Chapter 14: A Sticky Awakening
The first thing Rose became aware of was warmth. Not the stifling heat of the previous night’s exertion, but a soft, living warmth pressed along the length of her back, a knee hooked over her thigh, an arm slung across her waist. The second thing was the light—pale, granular, and gentle, striping the silk sheets through the gauzy curtains. Dawn.
She blinked slowly, her mind swimming up from the depths of a profound, sex-drunk sleep. Her body felt… different. Used. A pleasant, deep ache pulsed between her legs, a ghostly echo of the brutal fullness that had rendered her unconscious. She shifted, and the body behind her—Maria—made a soft, sleeping sound, nuzzling into the coppery tangles of Rose’s hair.
Rose’s hand, which had been resting on her own hip, drifted lazily downward, following the curve of her own body until her fingers brushed the back of Maria’s hand where it lay on Rose’s stomach. From there, it was a natural, sleepy slide. Her fingertips trailed over the back of Maria’s knuckles, down the delicate bones of her wrist, and into the thatch of dark, damp curls between her thighs.
Maria sighed in her sleep, a husky little exhale.
Rose’s fingers didn’t encounter the resistance of closed legs or dry flesh. They slipped, without preamble, into a slick, startling heat. Maria’s cunt was open, swollen, impossibly soft. The folds were puffy and tender beneath Rose’s exploratory touch, and they yielded immediately, welcoming her fingers into a soaked, velvety interior that was still noticeably loose.
“Mmm,” Maria murmured, her hips pressing forward involuntarily, grinding her used hole against Rose’s hand.
Rose was fully awake now, a sharp, predatory curiosity cutting through the morning haze. She shifted, rolling slightly onto her side to face Maria, though her hand remained buried between the younger woman’s legs. Maria’s eyes fluttered open, dark and clouded with sleep and immediate, needy recognition.
“Hey,” Rose whispered, her voice raspy.
“Hey yourself,” Maria breathed. Her cheeks flushed.
Rose slider her finger in to the knuckle with obscene ease, meeting only a clinging, molten warmth. “Jesus, Maria. You’re ruined.”
The word hung in the dawn-lit air. Ruined. It wasn’t cruel. It was awed. A fact.
Rose added a second finger. They slid in just as easily, parting swollen, cum-slick flesh that had been stretched to a mind-bending width only hours earlier. She could feel it—the residual looseness, the memory of a monumental intrusion etched into the very tissue. She scissored her fingers gently, and Maria gasped, her back arching, her large breasts pushing against Rose’s chest.
“She split you open,” Rose murmured, her eyes locked on Maria’s.
“Y-yes,” Maria choked out, her own hands coming up to clutch at Rose’s shoulders, her nails biting in. “God, yes.”
From the bathroom down the hall, the steady rush of the shower stopped. A beat of silence, then the clear sound of the glass door sliding open.
It lit a fuse in Rose. The lazy exploration vanished, replaced by a raw, greedy urgency. “I want to taste what she did to you.”
She didn’t wait for permission. She shoved Maria onto her back, the sheets tangling around them, and dove between her legs. The smell that hit her was unmistakable—the musk of spent sex, of Sasha’s unique, salty scent, of Maria’s own arousal, all blended into a potent, intoxicating perfume. Rose buried her face in it.
She didn’t tease. She licked a broad, flat stripe from Maria’s perineum up through her soaked folds, gathering the tangy, complex flavor. Then she zeroed in on the opening itself. She pushed her tongue against it, and it gave way, allowing her to spear into that incredible, slack heat. She fucked Maria with her tongue, plunging it in and out, mimicking the brutal penetration of the night before but with a wet, agile softness.
“Fuck! Oh, fuck, just like that,” Maria babbled, her thighs clamping around Rose’s head, her hips pumping uselessly against the mattress.
Rose moaned against her, the vibration making Maria shriek. She was ravenous. She lapped at the tender, stretched ring of muscle, dipped her tongue as deep as it would go to taste the lingering echoes of Sasha’s cum, then sucked greedily at Maria’s swollen clit. She was marking the territory Sasha had claimed, making it hers, too. It was filthy, it was possessive, and it was working. Maria’s body was coiling, seizing around the relentless, wet point of Rose’s tongue.
“Rose, I’m gonna—”
The bedroom door clicked open.
Rose didn’t stop. She sucked harder, her fingers digging into the soft flesh of Maria’s thighs.
Sasha stood in the doorway, a towel wrapped around her torso, her dark hair dripping onto her shoulders. She leaned against the frame, her hazel eyes taking in the scene: the tangled sheets, the morning light glistening on the sweat on Maria’s heaving chest, Rose’s head buried between her legs, the obscene, wet sounds filling the quiet room.
A slow, deeply satisfied smile spread across Sasha’s face.
Maria’s orgasm hit her like a silent seizure. Her body bowed off the bed, a strangled gasp the only sound as pleasure, sharp and sudden, ripped through her. She shuddered violently, her cunt fluttering against Rose’s tongue.
Rose drank it all in, lapping at the fresh flood of wetness, until Maria collapsed, boneless and whimpering, into the wrecked sheets.
Finally, Rose pulled back. She rested her cheek on Maria’s trembling thigh, breathing heavily. She turned her head and met Sasha’s gaze across the sunlit room. Rose’s chin was glistening, her lips swollen.
Sasha pushed off the doorframe, the towel slipping slightly. She walked to the edge of the bed, her gaze tender and heated. “Couldn’t wait for me, huh?” she asked, her voice a low, amused rumble.
Rose smiled, a wicked, cum-stained thing. “Just doing cleanup,” she said, her voice hoarse. “Tasting your handiwork.”
Sasha reached down, her damp fingers tracing the line of Rose’s jaw, smearing the wetness there. She brought her thumb to her own mouth and sucked it clean, her eyes never leaving Rose’s. “And?”
Rose’s smile widened. “Needs a refresher.” Her eyes dropped meaningfully to the towel tented around Sasha’s waist.