The Fiancée Farce

by Alexandria Bellefleur

“You don’t believe me?” Gemma reached out, prying Tansy’s lip from between her teeth, running her thumb along it, making her shiver. “Maybe I should prove it to you. Get down on my knees like I promised. I could show you just how desirable you are.” The hand she had braced against the bookshelf dropped to Tansy’s hip, fisting the fabric, bunching the satin between her fingers and dragging it up Tansy’s thigh. “I’ve lost sleep thinking about you, you know that? Thinking about how you might taste, the sounds you’d make if I was lucky enough to get my mouth on you.” Gemma lowered her forehead to Tansy’s, and her breath—whiskey warm and cinnamon sweet—wafted against Tansy’s mouth, making her ache from the tip of her nose down to her toes. There was a heavy sort of heat pooling beneath her belly button, a pulsing. The hand cradling her jaw drifted lower, wrapping gently around the front of her throat. “The things I want to do to you, the power you could wield over me, Tansy. You have no idea. I’d worship you, if you’d let me.”