This was worship

Quivina made a soft, approving sound. “Let me see,” she murmured, shifting. She nudged Adunbi’s hand aside gently, and Osa felt the bed dip as Quivina moved down her body. Then, the warm puff of Quivina’s breath against her inner thigh.

Osa’s eyes flew open. Quivina was between her legs, the red kimono spilling open to reveal the magnificent expanse of her breasts. Her gaze was focused, analytical, and hungry.

“So pretty,” Quivina breathed. “So dark and pink and open.” She didn’t use her hands. She lowered her head.

The first touch of Quivina’s tongue was a lightning bolt.

It wasn’t the teasing, torturous flick of before—the anonymous tongue that had driven her mad. This was different. This was worship. This was cleaning.

Quivina’s tongue was broad, flat, and hot. She licked a slow, firm stripe from Osa’s perineum all the way up through her soaked folds, gathering the mixed fluids. She moaned as she did it, a vibration that zinged straight to Osa’s clit. Osa cried out, her back arching off the bed.

“Shhh, sweet thing,” Quivina cooed, pulling back only slightly. “I’m just tasting what my husband left for me.” Her eyes glinted up at Osa. “Tasting you.”

She dove back in, and this time her approach was less clinical. She nuzzled, she lapped, she explored. Her tongue circled Osa’s entrance, dipping shallowly inside, then swept up to find the hard, sensitized pearl of her clit. Osa’s hands flew to Quivina’s head, not to push her away, but to tangle in her thick, soft braids. She held on, her hips lifting off the mattress, seeking more.