She waits for a beat, waiting for Hannah to tell her that’s enough, as she stares up at the ceiling in the darkness.

Instead, Hannah sighs. “Yeah, that sounds…. What else?”

Her mind is already running with this, beyond her control, and the words slip out with it.

“Kissing. With purpose. Sucking her lip between mine and grinding down against her, with both of us knowing where this is going. Feeling her body under mine, arching against me when I kiss and bite down her neck.”

Caroline’s heartbeat pounds in her ears at the release of her words, her hands twisting hard into the comforter on top of her. God, she does miss it and her body can feel it. The utter wanting that’s been unfulfilled for months, settling between her thighs.

“Oh. Yeah.” Hannah’s tone is breathless and it makes Caroline start to pulse. “Purpose. I really love that.”

“Yeah,” she echoes. “I miss teasing. Feeling how much she wants me and getting her worked up, touching until she’s desperate for more. Feeling her move against me.”

Caroline’s eyes slip closed of their own accord, and she can picture all of her words as if they’re playing out in her mind. Picturing a woman’s naked body under her own, writhing against her, hips arching, searching for more. She very deliberately won’t put a face on this woman, even though she knows.

And her body reacts, as she squeezes her thighs together. It does absolutely nothing but let her realize just how fucking wet she is.

“And that’s what you miss most?” Hannah’s voice is hoarse. Far beyond her usual sleepy rasp.

Caroline’s blood is rushing through her head, still heady and intoxicated, and the alcohol still has enough power over that she opens her eyes again, turning her head toward Hannah as the correction escapes her. “No, mostly I miss making her come.”

She didn’t expect Hannah to be rolled onto her side, her gaze so intently focused on Caroline. Her face, she knows from earlier, is flushed from the alcohol and it’s all Caroline can do to force her hands to stay just where they are.

Hannah’s warm breath washes over her cheek as she swallows and asks, “Not coming, yourself?”

Christ. She almost feels like she could come just from those words leaving Hannah’s lips. Her hips rock of their own accord, before she forces herself to be still.