The command landed like a hand between her shoulder blades.
"Phei…" Sierra's voice was a low, velvet warning laced with pure heat—half behave, half don't you dare stop.
But Maddie was already obeying, thumbs hooked in the flimsy white strings, already sliding the soaked scrap of lace down her golden thighs with a deliberate, teasing slowness.
The fabric peeled away from her cunt with a soft, wet sound, clinging for a moment to her swollen lips before dropping to the floor.
She stepped out of it daintily, then stood there—completely, absolutely, devastatingly naked—bathed in afternoon sunlight streaming through the massive windows.
How is she a virgin and this fucking bold? He wondered.
Her pussy was bare. Waxed baby-smooth, not a single stray hair to hide anything. The skin there looked impossibly soft—pale and flawless except for the deep flush that had crept over her mound and down the insides of her lips like spilled wine.
Pink and perfect and obscenely glistening.
