"Leila, please..." Natasha's voice was a plea, but for what? To stop? To continue? She couldn't tell anymore.
Leila's response was to capture her mouth again, harder this time, her tongue slipping past her parted lips to claim territory. Natasha's hands fisted in Leila's hair, pulling her closer even as tears pricked her eyes. The kiss turned hungry, desperate—Leila's free hand cupping Natasha's breast through her shirt, and her thumb circling the hardening nipple with expert pressure. Natasha arched into it, a moan vibrating against Leila's lips.
"That's it," Leila breathed, breaking away to trail kisses down Natasha's neck, sucking marks into her skin.
"Let go, Tasha. Forget everything else. Just feel me."
She unbuttoned Natasha's jeans with deft fingers, zipper rasping in the quiet room, and slipped her hand inside, over the thin fabric of her panties. Natasha was already wet, slick heat soaking through, and Leila groaned in approval.
