Chapters (34)
- Table of Contents
- Other Books from G Benson
- Acknowledgements
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINE
- CHAPTER TEN
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- CHAPTER TWELVE
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN
- CHAPTER FOURTEEN
- CHAPTER FIFTEEN
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
- CHAPTER NINETEEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY
- CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
- EPILOGUE
- About G Benson
- Other Books from Ylva Publishing
- All the Little Moments
- Wounded Souls
- Crossing Lines
- Fragile
- Coming from Ylva Publishing
- Not-So-Straight Sue
- Heart Trouble
Her name had never sounded like that before, a breathy invocation.
Fingers finally released her shoulders in order to return to her hair, nails digging into her scalp as Cora tensed, hips losing their rhythm. “Harder.”
Frazer wrapped a hand around the hip, her fingers splaying over her stomach to hold Cora against her.
“Don’t stop.”
Stopping would be the problem. When Frazer curled a third finger, Cora came in a rush of words and fingers that gripped her like desperation. Frazer rode it out with her, only stopping when the fingers in her hair fell slack.
Frazer stood, her knees aching, and then crawled up Cora’s body to straddle her hips. Gently, she pushed dishevelled hair off Cora’s sweaty forehead. Breathing was the only sound in the room. As Cora opened her eyes, Frazer chuckled at the glazed look she found there.
“Hi,” she murmured.
“Holy fuck.”
Unable to hold it in, Frazer laughed and Cora smiled, sheepish.
“Frazer, that’s a compliment.”
“Oh, I know.”
Apparently able to move again, Cora ran a finger over Frazer’s bare thigh where her skirt had ridden up.
She shook her head as she watched her own fingers against bare skin. “That was—you—” She shook her head again. Frazer’s hand was right next to Cora’s ear, palm flat on the table so she could hold herself up, and Cora turned, her gaze on Frazer’s as she kissed the skin at her wrist. The touch sent a throb straight to Frazer’s centre. Cora’s hands ran up Frazer’s thighs, brushing the hem of her skirt and grabbing her open shirt that hung at her shoulders. She guided Frazer’s face to hers, kissing her.
“You,” Cora said, “have a shirt on. While I don’t.”
Even drunk and definitely interested, Frazer hesitated, unsure of just how far Cora wanted this to go. All she knew was that after the feeling of Cora coming undone, it wasn’t going to take very long for Frazer to follow. She sat up, her thighs straddling Cora’s hips. Her fingers ran between her own breasts and down to her stomach to toy with the hem of her shirt. “This shirt?”
Those usually amber eyes, now dark and searching, followed her hands, and Cora’s tongue darted out against her lips. She nodded, and Frazer slowly peeled the shirt off.
Cora slipped her finger under Frazer’s waistband and tugged. It sent Frazer falling forward. Her lips crashed into Cora’s as she balanced herself with a hand alongside Cora’s body. Shivers ran up her back as Cora’s hands trailed along her thighs, her stomach, the edges of her breasts. When nails grazed her spine, Frazer instinctively ground down on Cora, who gasped into Frazer’s mouth.