She crashed her lips to Cora’s, and hands tangled in Frazer’s hair. Fingers yanked that black dress up and over, and Frazer tossed it somewhere behind her. For one moment, she got to stare at Cora half-naked, a glimpse of a black bra and soft breasts, before Cora dragged her tighter against her.

Their teeth clashed, and Cora wrapped her legs around Frazer’s waist, hips grinding against her. Frazer was already wet. Harder than she intended, Frazer dragged her nails over Cora’s skin, up her sides and against her bra. Cora’s moan encouraged her, and with the strap as her guide, Frazer undid it and pulled the bra away, cupping the softness of her breasts the second she could. Her thumbs rolled over already hard nipples.

With panting breaths in her ear, Frazer kissed Cora’s neck, tongue running over the ridge of her collarbone. Everything was Cora—her movement. The rocking of her hips that were desperate for touch. As she grazed her lips back to kiss Cora again, her fingers ran down Cora’s stomach, hands clutching at lace. Somehow, the buttons of Frazer’s shirt were undone and she tugged at Cora’s underwear in her hands, pulling them down and stepping back to remove them completely, her gaze never leaving Cora’s.

Cora was leaning back against the table, skin flushed and wearing only a pair of heels. Frazer slowly ran her hands from Cora’s knees along her thighs, goose bumps rising under her palm. Slower than before, Frazer kissed her again, the back of her fingers running over soft curls and softer skin. With a sigh, Cora’s head fell back as she sat completely on the table and Frazer ran her tongue down her neck, over her nipple, her fingers stroking, a whisper of a touch against sensitive flesh. The rhythm of her tongue against Cora’s breast was faster than her fingers. Hips seemed to beg at her to do more, but Frazer resisted, enjoying the subtle warmth against her fingers and dragging out Cora’s obvious enjoyment.

“Please.” The sound was a whisper or a groan or something in between.

Frazer bit down gently, and this time, the response was definitely a groan.

Then fingers were in her hair, pushing her down. “Please!”

That had definitely been spoken.

Dropping to her knees, Frazer traced patterns against Cora’s thigh, even as she did so. She pushed two fingers inside, curling them enough that Cora shouted, lying down on the table and reaching out blindly to grip at Frazer’s shoulders. Heels dug deliciously into Frazer’s back.

Those fingers gripped hard enough to bruise when Frazer pressed her tongue against Cora’s centre, stroking to match the rhythm of her hand.

At that moment, nothing existed but the pace Cora set with her hips, the taste of her, and the overwhelming urge to make her come, yet to have this last forever.

“Fuck, Frazer.”