Chapter 10: Afternoon Promises

The fresh sheets felt like a small luxury after the chaos of the night—cool, crisp cotton against warm skin as they tumbled back into bed, robes slipping off shoulders and pooling on the floor like forgotten whispers.

Sunlight poured through the open curtains now, turning the room bright and golden, every curve and mark on their bodies illuminated without shadow or shame. It was well past noon, but the day still belonged entirely to them.

Susan lay on her back, one arm tucked behind her head, the other tracing feather-light patterns along the slope of Debra’s spine. Debra rested half-draped over her cheek on Susan’s shoulder, one thick thigh thrown possessively across Susan’s hips, fingers drawing slow, reverent circles through the soft auburn curls on Susan’s belly.

They spoke in murmurs, voices low and intimate, the words secondary to the feel of breath against skin.

Susan tilted her head, lips brushing Debra’s temple. “Tell me something you’ve never told anyone in bed before,” she whispered, the warmth of her mouth sending a shiver down Debra’s neck.

Debra hummed, lips grazing the hollow of Susan’s throat. “I’m terrified of being too much,” she confessed softly, the words vibrating against Susan’s pulse. “Too loud, too needy, too ... everything. I usually hold back.” She lifted her head, eyes searching Susan’s in the bright light. “But with you, I didn’t want to. I couldn’t. And you made me feel like everything was exactly what you wanted.”

Susan’s hand stilled on her back, then resumed with a slower, more deliberate stroke—fingertips tracing the curve of each roll, the dip of her waist, the swell of her hip as if committing them to memory. “I do want everything,” she murmured, voice husky with truth. “Every sigh, every tremble, every inch of you spilling over my hands, my mouth, my body.” She smiled, slow and wicked. “Especially the parts that make you loud. I plan to spend a lot of time earning those.”