42. Chapter 42
forty-two
C écile was gone by the time Monroe woke.
She stretched luxuriously, a pleasant ache radiating through her limbs from the hours of lovemaking they’d shared.
Smiling into the pillow, she recalled how Chloé had bitten her own hand to keep from crying out as Monroe's tongue moved through her folds and circled her clit with devastating precision.
“I’m still thinking about your face when you ride me,” Chloé murmured, as if pulling the thought straight from Monroe’s mind.
“You like that position, don’t you?”
“I do,” Chloé admitted, pressing a kiss to Monroe’s shoulder, her grin mischievous.
“All the films act like all fours is the pinnacle of sexy, but I prefer to see it—the moment you can’t hide what you’re feeling—the way your eyes flutter, your thighs tense, and your mouth falls open just before it takes you over and you come. ”
Monroe chuckled. “And you’ve got access to my boobs.”
Chloé laughed, warm and full. “Exactly. It’s a win all around.”
Monroe twisted in Chloé’s arms until they were face to face, their noses nearly touching. “I like when you thrust up into me,” she whispered, “your hands gripping my hips, pulling me down to meet you. And I can either kiss you…or watch your mouth wrap around my nipples.”
Chloé grinned. “So, we’re in agreement.”
“Mmhm…but I’ve got another fantasy.”
“Do tell.”
Monroe nodded, her voice low and teasing. “I keep picturing us in a kitchen. I’m perched on the counter, and you’re standing between my legs… wearing your strap.”
Chloé’s eyes lit up, voice husky with intrigue. “You know…I do have a kitchen.”
“And,” Monroe said with a smirk, “we do have the place to ourselves.”
They both moved with equal speed. Monroe got a head start when Chloé paused to retrieve the harness from where it had landed the night before. She grabbed the lube and followed Monroe down the stairs and into the small kitchen before disappearing back into the hall.
“What took you so long?” Monroe teased, but then she noticed as Chloé stepped up to where Monroe was perched upon the countertop, now a clear two or three inches taller.
“I need my heels if I am to do this any justice at all.” Chloé chuckled, stepping into the harness and adjusting the base of the dildo until it sat just right against her clit.
Monroe reached for the lube, squeezed some into her palm, then took hold of the phallus, working her hand around it until it was coated. With her eyes still on Chloé, she used the rest to slick herself up.
“You look hot wearing that.”
Chloé smiled. “And you look hot when you touch yourself.”
Monroe felt a surge of confidence unlike anything she’d experienced before. Her fingers moved to lightly stroke her clit—performing, putting on a show solely for her lover’s enjoyment.
“Like that?” she asked.
Chloé nodded, transfixed.
“You do this to me.” Monroe moaned as she slid two fingers inside herself. “You get me so turned on…so…wet…”
Chloé stepped forwards, gently pulled Monroe’s hand away, and guided the dildo to her entrance.
“Then let me give you everything.”
Her hips pressed forward, the space between them vanishing. Monroe gasped, soft at first, then deepening into a guttural moan as her lover filled her.
Slow thrusts.
Fingers pressed into skin.
Soft moans.
In the quiet of the kitchen, it was utterly erotic.
Monroe’s arms wrapped around Chloé’s shoulders, hands tangled in her hair, her face pressed against her cheek.
“You like that, baby?” Chloé whispered, more of a statement than a question.
But Monroe nodded.
“Yes, harder. I need more.”
Chloé responded, hips pistoning—faster, harder, breathlessly. Her hands slipped beneath Monroe’s thighs, holding her open, keeping her in place.
Monroe clung tighter, her breath catching with every thrust. Her legs trembled in Chloé’s grip, muscles taut and desperate.
“Fuck, yes…” she gasped, voice raw with need. “Just like that.”
Chloé groaned softly, low and possessive.
“I love watching you come apart for me.”
She shifted her angle just slightly, enough to draw out another moan from Monroe, louder this time, broken. Chloé kept the rhythm, steady but unrelenting, her mouth brushing Monroe’s ear.
“I want to feel you come.”
Monroe's body arched, a shiver rippling through her spine.
“I’m close—don’t stop.”
“I won’t.” Chloé’s voice was all heat and promise. “Give it to me.”
And Monroe did—legs tightening around Chloé’s waist, nails digging into her shoulders as the climax hit, sharp and shuddering. She cried out against Chloé’s neck, lost in the moment, her entire body pulsing with release.
Chloé held her through it, slowing only when Monroe sagged against her, spent and breathless.
For a moment, they were still. Just the sound of their breathing, the faint hum of the fridge, and the warmth between them.
Then Chloé pressed a kiss to her temple, pulled back and asked, “All okay?”
Monroe let out a soft laugh, breath still uneven. “I’ve never been better.”
She hopped down, unbuckling the belt around Chloé’s waist. Monroe let it drop to the floor and sank to her knees.
“ You didn’t come,” she said, glancing up with a wicked smile.
“Not yet—” Chloé gasped as Monroe’s mouth latched onto her, a desperate need to reciprocate.
Chloé’s hands flew to the edge of the counter, gripping it for balance.
“Fuck…” Chloé breathed, head tipping back, eyes fluttering shut.
Monroe moaned softly against her, the vibration sending a fresh wave of heat through Chloé’s core. Her hands gripped Chloé’s thighs, keeping her steady, opening her further. She licked with purpose now—long, deliberate, unrelenting strokes.
Chloé’s hips twitched forwards, chasing the rhythm. “Yes…just like that.”
Monroe smiled against her, then circled her tongue tighter, faster, drawing gasps from Chloé that echoed off the kitchen tiles. She dipped her tongue inside, then back up to her clit, flicking, sucking, pulling every sound and shiver from Chloé’s body.
Chloé’s fingers tangled in Monroe’s hair—not guiding—just holding on. Her thighs trembled, breath shortening, pulse pounding in her ears.
“I’m—” she started, but the rest came out as a strangled moan, her body tensing and breaking all at once. Her release crashed through her, sharp and unstoppable.
Monroe didn’t stop until Chloé was pulling back, over-sensitive, her legs barely holding her up.
“Oh la Vache…” Chloé panted, sliding to the floor.
Monroe wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, smug and satisfied. “I’m no pillow princess.”
They stayed like that for a moment, limbs tangled, skin flushed, the afterglow wrapping around them like warmth from the oven.