Ruby lets slip

Ruby’s facade slips. The usual careful distance she keeps even in your candid talks falls away for a moment, and what is left is open and hungry.

“I have only ever dreamt of a cock like that,” she says, voice low enough that it barely carries. “My husband is… fine. Average. Polite about it. He never needs me the way you still lust after Natasha. I would give a lot for someone to look at me like that, to want me that badly even when I was being difficult. To be stretched and filled and still wanted the next morning.”

She holds your gaze, cheeks faintly coloured, the athletic lines of her body suddenly more noticeable in the quiet kitchen. The sisterly ease is still there underneath, but it is no longer the only thing between you.