186 – Estela POV
"Daphne." I beg again, breathless. My voice trembles.
Somewhere to my left, she laughs softly — low, wicked, absolutely entertained by my state. I try to glare at her, but blindfolded and tied like this? Not much impact.
Then suddenly — my legs are spread. Wide. Firm hands grip behind my knees, pressing me open with no shame.
"For all your complaining," her voice purrs, closer now, "you're awfully eager, sweetheart."
Her fingers glide along sensitive skin. A teasing stroke. Then one finger slides in. Then two — slow, deliberate.
"Hmmmnn... but not wet enough. I want you soaking," she says, and I hear movement—and anticipation hums through me, nerves buzzing with the unknown.
The bed shifts. Her warmth moves between my thighs.
Then her hands.
One sliding under to lift my hips slightly. The other pushing my legs wider—her grip firm, possessive. I hear her breath... soft, steady. Focused.
Her lips brush against my inner thigh.
A gasp slips from me.
