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Victoria’s pussy is just as wet and ready as Harper’s. Harper doesn’t waste any time: she leans in and runs her tongue directly over Victoria’s clit, from bottom to top, in one long, wet stroke.
“I love it…” Victoria exclaims, digging her fingers into the sheets and involuntarily lifting her pelvis.
Harper smiles against her ex-wife’s damp skin. She works her tongue expertly, alternating quick, flat strokes over her sex before returning to her clitoris. At the same time, she slides two fingers inside Victoria, drawing a hoarse, wrenching moan from the throat of the usually unflappable executive.
“Let’s see if you can still give orders now,” Harper whispers against her sex.
Victoria completely loses control. She, who always needs to direct every aspect of her life and career, surrenders to the whirlwind Harper is creating between her legs. Her thighs tremble against Harper’s cheeks, and her hands leave the sheets to grab her ex-wife’s hair, guiding the rhythm with wonderful desperation.
“Faster… Harper, please…” Victoria pleads, her voice fading amid ragged gasps.
Harper doesn’t give an inch. She sinks her fingers to the knuckle into Victoria’s burning heat, while her tongue never stops circling her swollen clitoris. The intimate sound of their shared passion becomes thunderous in the stillness of the room.
Victoria’s body tenses like a bow about to release, and the climax overwhelms her.
Victoria’s contractions are powerful, rhythmic, and prolonged. Harper maintains the rhythm with almost obsessive dedication, feeling Victoria’s sex clench tightly around her fingers as she comes against Harper’s mouth. Victoria’s legs tremble uncontrollably over Harper’s shoulders as the orgasm courses through every last fiber of her being.
Harper slides up slowly, kissing Victoria’s sweaty belly, her heaving breasts, and finally, her lips. Victoria pulls her in with almost desperate force, wrapping her in her arms and legs, pressing her against her spent body as if she feared that, if she let go, she might dissolve beyond the confines of that room.
Their naked bodies remain entwined on the rumpled bed. Both of their heartbeats gradually slow, giving way to a deep, heavy peace filled with unspoken meanings.
“That was…” Victoria begins, her voice hoarse and exhausted.
“Unparalleled,” Harper finishes, resting her chin on Victoria’s chest and looking at her with a radiant smile.
They remain silent for a few long minutes, listening to the steady beat of their hearts. The grayish light of a Saturday dawn in New York begins to seep gently through the slats of the blinds, illuminating the chaos of clothes scattered on the floor and the serene beauty of two women who, after years of cold war and physical distance, have finally found their way home again.
“I don’t want this to be just a brief interlude lasting a few nights…” Victoria says suddenly, breaking the silence with a seriousness that has nothing to do with her earlier teasing. Her fingers rest on the nape of Harper’s neck.
Harper looks up, meeting her ex-wife’s frank and sincere gaze.
“And it won’t be, Victoria,” Harper replies, resting a hand on the art director’s cheek. “But we still have to face Eleanor.”
Victoria smiles, and for the first time in years, it’s a smile devoid of all arrogance, filled with blind faith in the future.
“And we will…” Victoria says, kissing her deeply on the lips. “This time, we’re on the same team.”
Chapter 18
Soon, Harper realizes that pretending she doesn’t want to sleep with her ex-wife again is going to be very difficult.
Victoria is wearing a tailored charcoal gray suit jacket, an ivory silk blouse that reveals her collarbone—the very spot where Harper sank her teeth in the early hours of the morning—and her hair pulled back into a low ponytail that clears the line of her neck. She reviews the last few pages of the dossier with the focus of someone who has never lost control of a situation.
“How fake,” Harper thinks, stifling a snort.
“Can you stop staring at me?” Victoria murmurs without looking up from the paper, turning a page.
Harper startles, slapping her own folder back into place.
“I wasn’t looking at you.”
“You’ve been doing it for about thirty seconds,” Victoria replies, slowly looking up. “And yes, I’ve been counting them.”
Harper presses her lips together, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks.
“Shut up.”
The corner of Victoria’s mouth turns up. That silly gesture is enough to make Harper’s stomach do a little somersault for no rational reason.