The Naked Piano Player
Copyright© 2026 by jackmarlowe
Chapter 7
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 7 - Fiona feels attracted to Laura, her piano teacher. She suspects that the teacher may feel the same way about her.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa Consensual Lesbian Fiction
Laura turned the key in her front door and stepped aside, allowing Fiona go in first. The drive from The Lantern had been quiet and uneventful, with neither of them saying very much, but the moment the door clicked shut behind them, Laura sprang into action. She pushed Fiona against the hallway wall, her lips crashing against Fiona’s with a hunger that left no room for doubt or hesitation. Fiona gasped into the kiss, surprised at the suddenness of it, but more than willing to play her part, her hands scrambling for purchase against Laura’s shoulders.
Eventually, Laura pulled back, just enough to murmur against Fiona’s mouth, “You know you’re a bad girl, don’t you?” Her fingers tangled in Fiona’s hair, tugging sharply. “Tell me, is it proper to go out somewhere with me and then spend the entire time looking at other women?”
The accusation sent heat flooding to Fiona’s cheeks. She hesitated, unsure how to respond, not knowing if Laura was just teasing or was genuinely annoyed with her.
Laura tightened her grip, pulling Fiona’s head back sharply. “Answer me.” Her voice was low and rough, a tone Fiona had only heard during their most intense sessions.
“N-no,” Fiona stammered. “It’s not proper.”
Laura’s lips curled into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Then why did you do it?” Her free hand trailed down Fiona’s side, fingers skimming the hem of her skirt before digging into the soft flesh of her thigh. “Did you forget who you belong to tonight?”
Fiona’s breath came in shallow bursts, her body arching instinctively toward Laura’s touch. “No ... No, of course not ... I’d never forget that ... But ... Burlesque dancers are new to me ... And I couldn’t take my eyes off them.”
Laura’s laugh was a dark ripple against Fiona’s neck. “Couldn’t? Or wouldn’t?”
The accusation sent a fresh flood of heat to Fiona’s cheeks. Again, she hesitated, not knowing how to respond.
“Perhaps you need to be taught a lesson,” Laura continued. “Perhaps you need to be reminded of who you belong to.”
“Yes, of course,” said Fiona suddenly, as though understanding had just dawned on her. “Yes, you’re right. I’m a bad girl and I ought to be punished.”
Laura’s lips curled into a predatory smile. “That’s better,” she murmured, stroking Fiona’s cheek. “That’s what I wanted to hear.” She took her by the arm, leading her toward the bedroom. “Actions have consequences. It seems that you understand that.”
Laura pushed open the door, and with a firm grip, she guided Fiona to the center of the room, then circled her slowly, fingertips grazing her shoulders, her waist, the small of her back, teeth grazing her earlobe. “Strip,” she commanded, stepping back just enough to watch. “Slowly. Like Evelyn did.”
Fiona reached for the top button of her blouse and undid it, aware of Laura’s avid gaze. The second button slipped free, revealing the lace edge of her bra. Laura’s gaze darkened, her lips parting slightly as Fiona teased the third button loose, letting the fabric gape just enough to expose the swell of her breasts.
Laura prowled closer, halting Fiona’s hands with a sharp grip. “Slower,” she breathed, her thumb tracing Fiona’s lower lip. “Make me wait.” Fiona swallowed hard, her fingers trembling as she obeyed, rolling her hips slightly as she slid the blouse off one shoulder, then the other. The fabric pooled at her wrists before Laura snatched it away, tossing it aside.
“Now the skirt,” Laura commanded, her voice edged with gravel. Fiona hooked her thumbs into the waistband, easing it down inch by inch. “Turn around,” Laura ordered. “Show me how well you learned from Evelyn.” Fiona obeyed, pivoting slowly, her back to Laura as she arched her spine, rolling her hips in time with the memory of Evelyn’s movements.
Laura’s breath hitched. “Impressive,” she murmured. “You really watched her closely, didn’t you? Every - single - move.” Fiona’s skirt slid lower, before it ran out of thigh to cling to and fell to the floor, pooling around her ankles. Laura yanked it away. “Now the bra,” she breathed. Fiona remained facing away from her and reached behind her back to unhook the clasp.
Fiona let the bra come free gradually, the straps slipping down her shoulders, before she finally let it fall, catching it midair, just like Evelyn had, before finally discarding it. Laura gazed at Fiona’s bare back. “Tease,” she accused, her voice rough. Fiona now turned around, Laura’s pupils dilating as her bare breasts came into view.
Fiona rolled her hips, as she remembered Evelyn doing, doing her best to mirror the stage performance. Then she eased her panties lower, just a little, exposing the curve of her hips. She rolled her hips again and this time kept rolling, the panties slipping lower with each movement until they finally fell to the floor.
Laura looked over the now fully naked Fiona, nodding with approval. “You did that very nicely,” she said. “You’re clearly a quick learner.” She moved closer, putting her hands on Fiona’s arms. “But we’re not finished yet. You still need to be punished, don’t you think so? In fact, you said yourself that you ought to be punished.”
“Yes,” said Fiona. “I ought to be punished.”
Laura’s fingers curled around Fiona’s wrists, guiding them behind her back with a firm grip, the sudden restraint sending a shiver down her spine. Laura leaned in, her breath hot against Fiona’s ear. “And what do bad girls deserve?” she murmured, her teeth grazing the shell of her ear just hard enough to make her gasp.
“Discipline,” Fiona whispered, the word trembling on her lips. Laura rewarded her with a low hum of approval, her free hand sliding down Fiona’s side, fingertips tracing the dip of her waist before landing a stinging slap on the curve of her backside. Fiona jerked forward with a sharp cry, the sting blooming into heat.
“That’s for starters,” Laura commanded, her voice thick with authority. Fiona swallowed hard, bracing herself as Laura’s palm connected a second time, harder, the sound cracking through the room. Fiona’s knees buckled, but Laura’s grip on her wrists kept her upright, her bare back arching as she panted.
“Count,” Laura ordered.
“Two,” Fiona gasped, her voice cracking as Laura’s hand descended again - smack - the sharp sound mingling with her shuddering exhale. “T-three...” Laura chuckled darkly, delivering another sharp slap. “Four.” Laura was unrelenting, her hand connecting again. “Five,” Fiona choked out, her skin burning.
Laura circled her, fingertips trailing over the reddened area where the smacks had landed. “You’re taking it so well,” she murmured, pausing to press a kiss to the heated skin. “But we’re not done.” She pulled Fiona backward abruptly, guiding her onto the bed face down, her wrists pinned to the small of her back.
The cool satin sheets against Fiona’s flushed skin made her shiver - or maybe it was the anticipation. In any event, she didn’t have long to wait, as Laura had already raised her hand again. Fiona flinched, but the impact didn’t come. Instead, Laura’s fingertips ghosted over her sensitized skin, tracing the outlines of each welt she’d left behind.
“You’re so responsive,” Laura mused, her voice laced with something between admiration and hunger. “Every little touch, every sound you make, it’s all so honest.” Fiona whimpered as Laura’s fingers dipped lower, skimming the curve of her backside before delivering another sharp smack, this one lower, right where thigh met cheek.
Fiona’s breath hitched, her hips jerking involuntarily. “Six,” she gasped.
Laura hummed, her nails scraping lightly over the fresh sting. “You’re still counting, well done.” The praise sent a conflicting rush of warmth through Fiona, shame and pride tangling together in her mind. Laura lifted her hand again, delivering another sharp smack – crack - this one landing high on her thigh.
“Seven,” Fiona gasped, her voice breaking as Laura leaned over her, pressing her weight into Fiona’s pinned wrists.
“This is so good for you,” Laura murmured, her lips brushing the nape of Fiona’s neck. “You can thank me later for teaching you such a good lesson.” Her free hand trailed down Fiona’s spine, fingertips lingering at the small of her back before delivering another stinging slap, harder this time, the sound sharp enough to make Fiona flinch.
“Eight,” she choked out, her thighs trembling against the sheets.
Laura exhaled slowly, a controlled, deliberate sound, before dragging her nails down Fiona’s welted skin. “You’re holding your breath,” she observed. “The tension must be getting to you.” She allowed herself a small chuckle, before delivering the next slap. This one was even harder than the last, the crack of the impact even louder.
Fiona arched with a choked cry. “Nine.”
Laura’s fingers curled into Fiona’s hips, anchoring her in place. “Almost there,” she murmured, her breath skating over Fiona’s heated skin. “But I think you can take one more.” Her palm connected again – crack - this time right where her thigh met the curve of her ass, the sharpest blow yet.
“Ten!” Fiona sobbed, her body jerking against the sheets. Laura released her wrists immediately, her hands smoothing over Fiona’s trembling shoulders as she rolled her onto her back. Fiona’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her skin flushed, eyes glazed with tears and something darker, something hungry.
“Now you can thank me.” Laura’s laugh was dark. “You can thank me for teaching you a lesson you so clearly needed.”
Fiona swallowed. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice hoarse. She hesitated, then added, “Ms. Middleton.” The formality tasted strange on her tongue now, after everything that had passed between them. Laura’s smirk deepened, fingers tracing Fiona’s collarbone, nails scraping lightly over the flushed skin.
“That’s nice,” Laura purred, leaning down to nip at Fiona’s throat. “But words are easy, aren’t they? Gratitude should be demonstrated, don’t you think?” She straightened, standing right alongside the bed. “On your knees. Facing me.”
Fiona scrambled to obey, her skin still tingling from the spanking, her breath uneven as she knelt on the bed. Laura’s fingers threaded through her hair, tilting her head back. “Show me,” Laura murmured, thumb tracing Fiona’s bottom lip. “Show me how grateful you are.”
Fiona hesitated for a second. “I’m ready and waiting,” Laura reminded her.
Fiona leaned forward, her hands reaching out to unbutton Laura’s blouse. As she popped the buttons out, the blouse gaped open, revealing the lace edge of Laura’s bra - black, like always, sheer enough to hint at the shadows beneath. Fiona exhaled shakily, as she moved to the next button, working it free.
The fabric parted further, revealing the swell of Laura’s breasts beneath the sheer lace. When the last one gave way, Laura shrugged the blouse off her shoulders, letting it slither to the floor, before unhooking her bra with a practiced flick of her fingers. The straps slipped down her arms, and Fiona watched, transfixed, as the garment pooled at Laura’s feet, leaving her bare from the waist up. Laura’s nipples were already hard, and Fiona’s mouth watered at the sight.
“Touch me,” Laura ordered, her voice low and rough. Fiona obeyed instantly, her hands rising to cup Laura’s breasts, thumbs brushing over her stiff peaks. Laura arched into the contact, a soft gasp escaping her lips. “Good girl,” she murmured, fingers tightening in Fiona’s hair. “Now show me.”
Fiona didn’t need further prompting. She leaned in, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to Laura’s sternum before trailing her tongue down to one taut nipple. Laura’s breath hitched as Fiona took it into her mouth, swirling her tongue in slow, deliberate circles.
Laura’s fingers tightened in her hair, guiding her movements. “Harder,” she demanded, her voice ragged. Fiona obeyed, sucking firmly as her free hand kneaded Laura’s other breast, pinching the nipple between her fingers. Laura’s hips jerked forward, her thighs brushing Fiona’s bare shoulders. “That’s it,” she hissed. “Show me how much you appreciate your lesson.”
Fiona continued to work both nipples, her actions drawing a sharp gasp from Laura and causing her body to arch into Fiona’s mouth. The effect she was having on her was intoxicating, but suddenly Laura yanked her head back, her pupils blown wide. “Enough teasing.” She unbuttoned her trousers with quick, impatient tugs, shoving them down her hips along with her panties.
Fiona’s breath caught at the sight - Laura’s thighs, the dark curls between them, the glistening evidence of her arousal. Laura kicked the fabric aside and gripped Fiona’s chin. “Look at me.” Fiona obeyed, her lips parted. “You want to taste me, don’t you?” Laura’s thumb pressed against her lower lip. “Say it.”
“Yes,” Fiona whispered, her pulse hammering. “Please.”
Laura’s smirk was predatory. She stepped forward, guiding Fiona’s face between her thighs with a firm hand. “Then prove it.” The first brush of Fiona’s tongue drew a shuddering exhale from Laura, her fingers tightening in Fiona’s hair. “Slow,” she commanded, hips rolling forward. “Like Evelyn teased the crowd.”
Fiona obeyed, tracing slow, deliberate circles around her clit. Laura’s thighs trembled against her shoulders, her breath coming in ragged bursts. “Good ... Just like that.” Fiona dipped lower, dragging her tongue through slick heat before sucking gently. Laura cursed, her grip turning punishing. “Again.”
Fiona repeated the motion, slower this time, swirling her tongue in a way that made Laura’s hips jerk forward. A choked moan escaped Laura’s lips, her free hand clawing at the sheets. Fiona could feel her own arousal dripping down her thighs, the ache between her legs sharpening with every muffled sound Laura made.
Laura suddenly broke away from Fiona’s attentions, climbing onto the bed. As she lay on her back, legs parted, she crooked a finger, beckoning Fiona closer. She eagerly obeyed, crawling towards her, understanding that she was to continue her ministrations. Laura spread her legs wider, gripping Fiona’s hair as she guided her head back down.
“Keep pleasing me,” Laura murmured, “keep that tongue working.” Obediently, Fiona bent back to her task, her tongue tracing lazy patterns up Laura’s inner thigh before reaching the target area. Laura’s breath stuttered, her fingers flexing against Fiona’s scalp as Fiona curled her tongue just the way she knew Laura liked.
“That’s good,” said Laura, breathing heavily now, “keep it going.” Fiona could feel Laura’s thighs tensing around her head, the telltale sign that she was getting close. She redoubled her efforts, alternating between broad, languid strokes and quick, teasing flicks, causing Laura to arch off the bed with a strangled gasp.
Fiona knew that Laura was teetering on the edge. She calmly maintained the rhythm she’d established, knowing how well it was working. Laura’s fingers tightened in Fiona’s hair, her thighs trembling as she again arched off the bed. “Don’t stop ... Don’t stop...” Her voice was rough and ragged, barely controlled.
Fiona continued, swirling her tongue in tight, insistent circles, the taste of Laura’s arousal flooding her senses. Laura’s hips jerked upward, her breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts. “Yes ... Yes ... Just like that.” Her words dissolved into a ragged moan as Fiona sucked lightly, then flicked her tongue rapidly against Laura’s clit.
Laura’s thighs clamped around Fiona’s head, her fingers twisting in Fiona’s hair almost painfully. Fiona could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, Laura’s entire body taut like a bowstring. Then, with a sharp cry, Laura shattered, her back arching off the bed as her orgasm crashed over her.
Laura’s convulsions subsided and she lay sprawled across the sheets, chest heaving, her skin flushed from collarbones to thighs. She blinked up at the ceiling, still catching her breath, before tilting her head toward Fiona. “That,” she murmured, her voice rough, “was satisfactory.”
Fiona kept her voice soft, deferential. “Thank you, Ms. Middleton.”
Laura exhaled, dragging a hand through her own disheveled hair before pushing herself upright. “Satisfactory,” she repeated, reaching out, catching Fiona’s chin between her thumb and forefinger. “Your service needs to be rewarded. I think that’s only fair.”
Fiona barely had time to process the words before Laura took hold of her shoulders and pushed her onto her back. Her hands quickly trailed lower, running over her breasts, Laura noting how hard the nipples were already. “Does discipline excite you this much?” she asked, rolling the nipples between finger and thumb.
Fiona bit her lip, trying not to squirm under the attention. “I ... I don’t know—”
Laura pinched harder, cutting her off. “You do know.” Her fingers slid lower, tracing Fiona’s ribs, her stomach, then stopping just above the damp heat between her thighs. “Look at you. Look at how wet you are. You’re dripping.” She let out a snicker. “Tell me why being disciplined excites you so much.”
Fiona swallowed, her hips twitching involuntarily. “Because ... Because it’s you,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Because I want ... I want to be good for you.”
Laura’s fingers trailed lower, moving slowly, now torturously close to Fiona’s clit. “Even when I hit you hard?” She pressed the pad of her thumb against Fiona’s clit, fleetingly, before withdrawing. Fiona whimpered, a shiver running right through her. Laura tsked. “Look at you. You’re begging for it.”
Fiona squeezed her thighs together, her body aching with need. “Please,” she whispered, her voice cracking.
Laura smirked, tracing a single fingertip down Fiona’s inner thigh, stopping just short of where she wanted it most. “Please what?” she taunted, dragging her nail lightly over Fiona’s flushed skin.
“Please touch me,” Fiona gasped, her hips lifting instinctively, only for Laura to pin her down with a firm hand on her stomach.
Laura’s fingertip circled Fiona’s clit without pressure, the ghost of contact making Fiona whimper. “Well if you’re going to beg, then beg properly,” Laura ordered, her voice dark with amusement. “Tell me what you want. Be specific.”
“Your fingers,” Fiona gasped, her nails digging into her own thighs. “Inside me ... Please.”
Laura’s fingertip pressed down, slow and deliberate, circling Fiona’s clit just enough to make her back arch. “How many?” she demanded, her breath hot against Fiona’s ear.
“T-three,” Fiona choked out, hips bucking against Laura’s restraining hand.
Laura laughed low in her throat, her fingers moving lower to slide through Fiona’s slickness before dragging back up in maddening strokes. “Greedy.” She pressed two fingers against Fiona’s entrance, applying just enough pressure to make her whine. “But I think you need four tonight.”
Fiona’s breath hitched, her hips jerking involuntarily, as Laura pushed in slowly, the stretch deliberate, exquisite. Laura watched her face, drinking in every twitch of her lips, every flutter of her eyelids. “Count,” she ordered, curling her fingers just so.
“O-one,” Fiona gasped, thighs trembling. Laura’s thumb brushed her clit, a teasing counterpoint to the relentless stretch. “Two. Ooh!” Her back arched off the sheets as Laura twisted her wrist, filling her deeper. “Three. Please.”
Laura’s free hand clamped over Fiona’s mouth, muffling her cries as she scissored her fingers wide. “Shhh. You’ll take what I give you.” The third finger slid in alongside the others, and Fiona’s moan fractured into a sob. The fourth finger pressed against Fiona’s entrance, slick with her own arousal, and Laura leaned close, her breath hot. “Now count properly.”
Fiona’s entire body locked tight, muscles quivering, as Laura pushed in to the knuckle. The stretch burned, but resistance to the intrusion was out of the question. “F-four,” she choked out, tears spilling down her temples.
Laura’s thumb circled her clit with ruthless precision, matching the slow, deliberate curl of her fingers inside Fiona. “Good girl,” she murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction. “Feel how deep I have you?” She twisted her wrist, forcing Fiona’s body to accommodate every inch.
Fiona’s toes curled into the sheets, her hips stuttering against Laura’s hand, every nerve singing with oversensitivity. Laura’s fingers dragged against her inner walls, the stretch bordering on painful, yet Fiona’s walls fluttered greedily around them. “Look at you,” Laura breathed, her own arousal evident in the hitch of her voice. “Taking me so well.”
Fiona whimpered, her thighs shaking as Laura crooked her fingers just shy of that sweet, punishing spot inside her. “M-Ms. Middleton ... Please.” The honorific slipped out ragged, half-plea, half-prayer.
Laura smirked, her thumb pressing harder against Fiona’s clit, circling in tight, relentless strokes. “You sound desperate,” she mused, twisting her wrist to drag her knuckles against Fiona’s front wall. Fiona’s breath stuttered, her walls clenching around the intrusion, as Laura leaned down, her lips brushing Fiona’s ear. “But you haven’t earned it yet.”
Fiona’s hips jerked helplessly, her thighs trembling. Laura’s fingers moved torturously slow inside her, each deliberate curl sending sparks up her spine. “Don’t stop counting,” Laura ordered, her voice dark. “And this time, beg for it.”
Fiona whimpered, her nails digging into Laura’s forearm. “Five. Please.” Laura twisted her wrist, stretching her impossibly wider. “Six. Ooh!” Her breath hitched as Laura’s thumb pressed harder against her clit. “Seven. I can’t...” The fourth finger slid deeper, and Fiona’s vision blurred. “E-Eight. Please let me come.”
Laura’s laugh was a dark, husky thing. “Such a greedy little student.” She dragged her fingers out slowly, savoring Fiona’s choked sob, before thrusting back in with a sharp snap of her wrist. “Nine,” Fiona gasped, her thighs shaking. Laura’s free hand fisted in her hair, yanking her head back. “Ten,” Fiona choked out, just as Laura’s thumb pressed down hard on her clit.
The orgasm hit like a thunderbolt. Fiona’s back arched violently, her walls clenching around Laura’s fingers in ragged pulses. Laura didn’t relent, fingering her through it with ruthless precision, her thumb circling Fiona’s oversensitive clit until tears spilled down her temples. “Look at you,” Laura murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction. “Dripping all over my hand.” She withdrew her fingers slowly, holding them up for Fiona to see, glistening.
Fiona panted, short of breath, her body limp against the sheets. Laura studied her with a slow, satisfied smile, then leaned down, her breath warm against Fiona’s ear. “You’re mine,” she murmured, nipping at the sensitive skin beneath Fiona’s jaw. “Say it.”
Fiona’s throat worked, her voice hoarse. “Y-yours.”
“Again.”
Fiona’s body trembled, still oversensitive from her climax, but Laura’s command brooked no argument. She swallowed thickly, her voice barely audible. “I’m yours.”
Laura’s fingers tightened in Fiona’s hair, forcing her to meet her gaze. “Louder.” Her thumb traced Fiona’s swollen lower lip. “Let the neighbors hear.”
Fiona’s breath hitched. “I’m yours,” she repeated, voice cracking on the words.
Laura’s fingers tightened in her hair. “Again.”
Fiona’s voice shook. “I’m yours.”
Laura’s grip loosened, her thumb dragging down Fiona’s throat to rest over her hammering pulse. “Good.” She pressed her lips to Fiona’s collarbone, slow and possessive, before sitting back on her heels. “Very good.”
Fiona shivered, not so much from the thrill of being owned so firmly, but from the predatory look on Laura’s face as she looked her over. The silence stretched, thick with anticipation, until Fiona decided to break it. “Is there anything else you need from me, Ms. Middleton?”
Laura smirked and slid off the bed, standing tall before Fiona, still sprawled and breathless on the sheets. “Plenty,” she said. “But not right now.” She pushed her dark hair from her forehead. “Let’s call it a night.”
Fiona frowned, propping herself up on her elbows. “Do we have to?” The disappointment was sharp in her voice, but Laura shot her a look, half amusement, half warning.
“You want more,” said Laura. It wasn’t a question.
Fiona’s cheeks burned. “Isn’t that obvious?”
Laura’s smirk returned. “Patience,” she murmured. “If you get everything you want tonight, you’ll have nothing to look forward to.” She started gathering her discarded clothing. “Besides, it’s not like you’ve got a long wait. You’ll be here again in a few days, when you come for your next piano lesson.”
Fiona’s fingers twisted in the sheets. “I think that’s a long wait.”
Laura paused by the bedroom door, one hand resting against the frame. The dim light carved shadows across her cheekbones, her lips still kiss-reddened. “It isn’t a long wait,” she said simply.
Fiona shivered, caught between the urge to press her argument further and the fear of overstepping. Before she had resolved that conflict in her mind, Laura spoke again. “Remember the practice I set you,” she said. “Including the full version of In My Life.”
Fiona nodded, recalling the intricate fingering Laura had demonstrated last time, how she’d corrected her posture with hands that lingered just a little too long on her shoulders. “Yes, Ms. Middleton.”
Laura’s gaze darkened with approval. “Good. And don’t forget—” She stepped back into the room, closing the distance between them in two strides. Her fingers caught Fiona’s chin, tilting her face up. “—the dynamics aren’t optional. Pianissimo where marked, or I’ll make you play it again with my belt around your wrists.”
Fiona’s breath hitched, her thighs pressing together at the promise woven into the threat. “Yes, of course. The Andante. Pianissimo. I won’t forget.”
Laura’s thumb traced Fiona’s lower lip, slow and deliberate. “See that you don’t.”
“And if the lesson goes well?” asked Fiona.
Laura arched an eyebrow, deciding to give Fiona some motivation. “Then maybe we’ll go to The Lantern again next Saturday. If you’d like that?”
Fiona’s eyes lit up, lips parting slightly at the thought of Evelyn, the way her hips had rolled during her striptease, the teasing snap of her stockings. “Yes. Very much.”
Laura chuckled, releasing Fiona’s chin. “Then you’d better practice.” She turned toward the door again, pausing only to glance back. “And Fiona?”
Fiona straightened instinctively. “Yes?”
Laura’s fingers curled around the door frame, her knuckles whitening briefly. “I hope the reason you’re so enthusiastic about going to The Lantern again isn’t just the chance to ogle another woman.”
Fiona’s pulse spiked. “N-no,” she stammered, her fingers twisting in the sheets. “I like ... I like the whole experience. I like being with you in public. I want to be owned by you in public.”
Laura studied her, unblinking, before stepping back into the room. She dragged a fingertip along Fiona’s bare thigh, watching the goosebumps rise in its wake. “Liar,” she murmured, though there was no real malice in it. “You liked watching Evelyn.”
Fiona’s breath hitched. “Yes,” she admitted, her pulse fluttering beneath Laura’s touch. “But not more than being owned by you.”
Laura smirked. “That’s a good answer. But I can’t help wondering who you fantasize about the most.”
The answer was immediate. “You,” said Fiona. “Always you.”
Laura removed her fingertip from Fiona’s thigh. “That’s a good note to end the night on.” She picked up her clothes again and stepped away.
Fiona pushed herself up and slid off the bed. The night might be over, but both her body and her mind were still humming from everything that had taken place. She thought about Evelyn’s teasing, she thought about Evelyn’s body, she thought about her time with Laura on the dance floor, she thought about being publicly claimed by Laura, she thought about being spanked by Laura, and she thought about Laura’s hand working her to her climax.
When she arrived home, she was still thinking about all these things. It was heady stuff, thrilling stuff, her only regret about the night being that something more hadn’t happened on the dance floor, despite the two occasions that had promised to develop into something further. It could have made the night even more exciting than it had been.
When she awoke on Sunday morning, Fiona’s sheets were tangled around her legs, her skin still humming with the memory of Laura’s touch. The clock read 10:37 AM, far later than her usual weekend wake-up time, but exhaustion from last night’s relentless pleasure had dragged her into deep sleep. She stretched, wincing slightly at the tender ache between her thighs.
That afternoon, she decided to tackle the piano practice she’d been set, starting with In My Life. As she sat at the piano, the club’s energy from the night before still lingered in her mind, a quiet echo of rhythm and pulse. Fortunately, it acted on her in a positive way, putting her in the mood for music and making her fingers itch to move.