Emily’s heart hammered against her ribs as she slipped through Rose’s back door, the scent of lilac and sweat thick in the air. Rose stood waiting, her dark eyes hungry, her lips parted. “You came,” Rose whispered, fingers tracing the curve of Emily’s hip through her sundress. “I knew you would.”

They fell into a storm of kisses, Rose’s tongue sliding against Emily’s, tasting of wine and rebellion. Rose’s hands slid under Emily’s dress, pushing it up until the fabric bunched at her waist. “Those thighs,” Rose breathed against Emily’s neck, “like a goddamn pillow.” She pinched Emily’s nipple through her lace bra, making Emily gasp and arch her back.

Rose lowered her undies, beheld the wet, pink folds of Emily’s pussy glistening in the dim light. “You’re already so fucking wet for me,” Rose growled, sliding a finger between Emily’s dripping lips. “This cunt is mine tonight.” Emily let out a choked moan as Rose’s finger pushed inside, curling to touch that sweet spot, while her thumb circled the swollen clit engorged and proud.

But Rose pulled back, leaving Emily on edge. “No, I want to taste this first.” She pushed Emily onto the sofa, spread her legs wide, and dived in. Rose’s tongue was a slick, hot muscle, lapping at Emily’s clit with firm, slow strokes. Emily’s juices flooded Rose’s mouth, and the sound of her wet folds being parted mixed with Emily’s desperate whimpers. “Your pussy tastes like honey and sin,” Rose murmured before she buried two fingers deep