At the sound of it, Jules did too, then kissed her again, sliding her hand up and down Vivian’s rib cage, feeling the heat of her through her soft knit shirt. It was a wrap blouse: comfortable, stretchy, and promising easy access if Jules just popped open the three big buttons right here on the side…

Not yet. Take it slow. Savor this. Jules wasn’t a teenager, for crying out loud.

So instead of trying to tear Vivian’s clothes off, Jules started in on her throat again, and this time she didn’t hesitate to use her teeth. Nothing likely to leave a mark, just little nips in between softer kisses while Vivian trembled and whimpered some more.

When Jules pushed her blouse aside so she could get to more of her shoulder, Vivian said, “Julia,” and rubbed her nose in Jules’s hair. That was more than enough to bring Jules back to her mouth. By the end of the kiss, they were clutching each other and panting for air, and Jules had slid one hand under Vivian’s blouse to touch her soft, warm skin.

“Ah.” Vivian pulled her in for another kiss.

Jules rubbed her hand up and down, her fingertips tingling because she still wasn’t used to touching Vivian, certainly not like this, and she wondered if she ever would be. “You feel good,” she mumbled against Vivian’s mouth. She kissed a shoulder again, felt the shudder it provoked. “You like this?”

“Ah,” Vivian said again, and added, “Don’t stop.” She slid her own hand down, cupped Jules’s hip, and kissed just by the ear.

The brush of Vivian’s lips on her cheek made Jules think of their first evening together on a sofa in London, when she had sealed their deal with a chaste little kiss to Vivian’s hand that had nearly blown the top of Jules’s head off.

She thought of the dizzy, terrifying joy that had taken hold of her at that moment and still hadn’t let go. It had just been the two of them on that glorious evening. Nobody watching them. Nobody but them, nothing to stop them from—

“God,” Vivian moaned, arching into her touch, which was a good thing because Jules had cupped her breast without even thinking about it.

And now she couldn’t stop, couldn’t stop stroking that soft weight in her palm, longing to feel it without all the layers in the way. Vivian probably wouldn’t object. She’d tilted her head back and closed her eyes.

“You like this?” Jules whispered again, so hot that she wondered if all her clothes were going to burn right off. She could feel Vivian’s nipple even through all the layers of clothes, and she rubbed gently at it with her thumb. “Is that good?”