Work Text:
You’re a few minutes early when you step into the bar where Sevika told you to meet her. It’s an immediate assault on your senses, one that briefly allows you to forget your nerves: the boisterous crowd inside dances and shouts under the hazy gleam of neon lights, with the thud of a heavy beat just barely discernible above the clamor.
But even in the chaos, your eyes are drawn to the formidable shape of her, lounging at a high-top near the back like she owns the place.
A part of you is a little shocked at the sight, even knowing there’s no reason for her to not be here. She invited you to this dingy little pub in the undercity only a few hours before, with all of her usual swagger. There had been a look in her eyes that left no questions about her intentions.
And you, of course, had no will to deny her. The only way you might’ve avoided this brash, possibly career-ending course of action is if she changed her mind and decided not to turn up at all.
But she did turn up. Of course she did. And she’s spotted you.
There’s no backing out now.
Licks of dark flame dance in her pearl-gray eyes as she watches you, one corner of her well-shaped mouth curving into a smirk. It’s full of knowledge, that smirk. Knowledge you’re not sure you want her to have just yet.
She chews the butt of her cigar, toying with it in a way you know is meant to draw your attention to the movements of her teeth and tongue. You respond just as she probably intends—hot fire snapping to life in your belly, like a match put to oil.
With a steadying breath, you compel yourself to walk into that fire, forcing a casual smile as you approach the table where she sits.
“You came,” Sevika purrs when you approach, voice grooved with a warm hoarseness that catches on something behind your collarbone and makes your heart beat a little faster. She gives you a long glance up and down before flashing a crooked grin. “You look good.”
No, I don’t, you nearly reply, knowing exactly how ridiculous you must look in your fine clothes and coifed hair. You came straight from work, so eager to find yourself in Sevika’s presence again that it hadn’t even occurred to you to change your outfit.
How stupid was that? You were born in the undercity, after all. And though it’s been years since you visited, you should know better. The thought that you’ve spent so long pretending to be a Piltie that you no longer have to pretend at all makes you grimace.
You pause for a moment, trying to decide if Sevika’s compliment is sincere—or is she making fun of you? The look on her face could absolutely be described as amused, and you’ve seen her smirk at your expense before. Though never in the cruel way she does when it’s one of her fellow council members. You like to think she respects you at least a little bit. But it does seem to please her to see you flustered.
It doesn’t matter, anyway. Even if she doesn’t respect you, you still would have accepted this invitation. Dignity be damned—you’re a mess for her. You’ve never met anyone like the new Zaunite Councilor, who very inconveniently happens to be your boss. But you sure as hell would like to know her more.
“I look precisely how I did the last time you saw me,” you eventually retort with a thin smile. “I suppose I should’ve clarified the dress code.”
You shrug out of your tailored jacket and toss it carelessly over a clear spot on the table, letting your hair down with your other hand and shaking it out with your fingers. Glancing down at your blouse, you undo the top few buttons, hoping some extra skin will add an edge to your appearance. You don’t miss the way Sevika’s gaze drops, traveling lazily over your newly-exposed cleavage.
Her smile widens, and she slides her eyes back up until they find yours again, making no attempt to hide her appraisal of you. She doesn’t seem overly concerned about your fashion faux-pas.
“Baby, you’re here with me. No one will say a word. Are you hungry?”
Ravenous, you almost moan in answer, before digging your nails into your palms in a desperate attempt to get a fucking grip. Her calling you baby right out of the gate certainly doesn’t help.
You both know why you’re here. The two of you have been trying to ignore the searing attraction between you for months, and you’ve finally given up on the never-ending mental circles of I want her/She’s off limits.
Yes, Sevika is technically your boss, but somewhere along the way you both decided it doesn’t matter. And you both knew exactly where things would lead after she caged you against the door to her office this afternoon and asked you to meet her in this undercity bar. She had specifically mentioned that it was close to her place.
Still. You don’t want to give her the satisfaction of being too eager. She’s smug enough about the whole situation as it is.
“I could eat,” you reply, trying to give the words a suggestive twist of your own. She raises an eyebrow, bringing a new, wicked glint to her eyes that sets off a swooping sensation low in your belly.
She extends a long leg towards a nearby stool, inches away from brushing against the fronts of your thighs, to hook her heel into the footrest and drag it closer. Close enough that your knees tangle with hers as you sit. You just manage to bite off the little gasp that brief contact sparks in your throat, forcing it into a cough instead.
Pathetic.
Sevika is watching you intently, the smirk that has yet to leave her face growing wider. She drags the cheese plate she had been working on between you.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d show,” she admits, picking up an olive and popping it into her mouth. “Thought you might be filling out a harassment complaint instead.”
That makes you laugh, remembering how stupid she’d made you earlier with her proximity alone—all you could do was stare up at her with wide, needy eyes and a slack mouth, feeling anything but harassed.
“Is that really what you were getting from my body language? Shock at the breach in professionalism?”
She gives an inelegant snort. “Wasn’t doing a whole lot of thinking in the moment, really. Mostly preoccupied with how good you smelled up close. How soft your skin looked.”
Her words send a little thrill up your spine, and you have to squeeze your thighs together to soothe the sudden flare of heat between them. You need to steer the conversation back to something safer. “Well. I did show, and you can rest assured not a single sheet of paperwork was filed.”
A delicious tension fills your chest as you let her hold your gaze, not sure what to do next. You need a damn drink.
Seeming to sense this, Sevika’s face relaxes into a smile. She raises her prosthetic arm to catch the barkeep’s attention, flashing two metal fingers before returning her attention to you.
“I’d ask what you want, but trust me when I tell you there’s only one thing worth drinking here. This isn’t one of those prissy Piltie bars.”
You hear the subtle note of defensiveness in her voice, and it finally dawns on you that her choice of meeting place was a test. Is a test. You know better than most how loyal she is to her home, and it’s occurred to you before that the only reason she’s entertaining the idea of taking you to bed, the only reason she ever tolerated you as her advisor in the first place, is due to your Zaunite origins. Should you prove too far gone in favor of Piltover, she’ll send you packing. And there’s a good chance showing up to a dive bar in a silk blouse didn’t win you any points.
The idea of never knowing what her lips taste like, of never being crushed beneath her body or clamped between her thighs…you bite your cheek in frustration. This is a test you will do anything to pass.
“Oh, I’ve been to far worse,” you assure her, maybe a bit too enthusiastically. It’s at least partially true—you’d just been too young to know any better.
That earns you a loud bark of laughter. “Check out this little badass,” she snickers, knocking the end of her cigar into the battered brass ashtray by her drink. “A regular trencher. Barely knows what sunlight is.”
“Shut up,” you bite out, though you can’t help but smile. “I’m just—just saying. This place doesn’t bother me.”
Her gaze pierces yours, as if trying to get your measure. “Were you worried it would?”
You consider for a moment. Truthfully, worrying about the venue itself hadn’t even entered your mind. The risk to your career? Certainly. Finding something to talk to Sevika about in a casual setting? Yes. What you would do if she made a move? Many times over. But the meeting place she’d chosen—well, if you’d bothered to think about that, you might be wearing something that didn’t make you look like some upper city nitwit.
You shake your head, giving her a loose shrug. “That was the one thing it didn’t occur to me to worry about.”
The moment is interrupted as your drink arrives, along with a fresh pour for Sevika. Instinctively, you reach forward to clink her glass with yours. “To taking pride in where you come from.”
Sevika hums in agreement, seeming to relax somewhat as she leans her elbows on the table and idly rubs the fingertips of her right hand over her metal knuckles.
You crack a smile, taking a sip of your drink. It’s strong. “You sure you didn’t order this just to get me to bed faster?”
She scoffs. “Please, baby. You’d throw your panties at me right now, dead sober. I don’t need to ply you with drinks.”
It’s all you can do to keep your face neutral, swallowing your scandalized protest—you won’t give her the satisfaction. You’ve been letting this woman get the better of you for months. Now that you know for a fact that she wants you back, you’re ready to meet her head-on.
Summoning your courage, you give her your sultriest grin.
“I’d have to be wearing some for that to happen.” It’s a shameless lie, one you’ll almost certainly be caught in before the night is over, but it’s worth it for the look on her face.
Her eyes widen for a moment, lips parting, but then her features relax back into that dammed smirk. “Liar. I’ve barely ever see you without your blouse buttoned all the way to the top. No way you made it all day commando.”
You roll your eyes at her, hoping she doesn’t notice the flush you can feel creeping into your cheeks. “How do you know I didn’t get rid of them before I got here?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart. I don’t think you had time.” She grins, wetting her bottom lip with her tongue in a way that makes you clench, and her next words come out husky and self-satisfied. “I think you ran here to get to me.”
Your retort dies on your lips as she reaches forward to trail her middle finger down your bare forearm, goosebumps springing up in its wake. It’s the first time she’s touched you so intentionally. You swallow hard, eyes flicking up to hers to find her staring at you. There’s something about that look—savage, possessive, greedy—like she means to take you, right there in the middle of the bar. It makes your breath catch in your throat, your joints go soft. You’ve been dancing around this for months and you can’t even say why you’re trying to play games anymore.
It’s time to act. If for no other reason than to get this shit out of your system.
“Want to get out of here?” The words tumble past your lips in a rush, worried you’ll lose your nerve if you think about it too hard.
Something visceral floods into her gaze, and her lips part just slightly before she nods. “Yeah. Fuck yeah.”
She drains the rest of her drink before depositing a clatter of coins onto the table, stool scraping loudly on the floor as she stands. You don’t have time to speak again before her arm snakes around your waist, pulling you from your stool until you’re pressed up against her side. She reaches out to collect your jacket with her prosthetic before you can forget it, and you’re oddly touched by the gesture.
“My place isn’t far,” you hear her say through your muddled thoughts, which are almost entirely occupied by the feeling of so much of her touching you. She’s warm. Soft in the right places, firm in the right places. All you want to do is bury yourself in her arms. While she’s burying herself inside of you, preferably.
Sevika’s right — her place is close. You’ve only followed her through a single alleyway and down another narrow path before she begins to make her way up the stoop of a weathered brick walk-up.
“You know, we could find you a place in Piltover, if you wanted,” you say without thinking, so used to spending your days helping her solve problems. “This can’t be an easy commute. You have the funds.”
She looks back at you, surprised, then scowls and shakes her head. “No. I need to be here. I need to live how my people live. My circumstances don’t improve until theirs do.”
You nod, immediately understanding. Admiring her for it. It’s the reason she’s so effective at her job, the reason you’re even considering this very serious violation of workplace ethics. You wouldn’t risk it if your interest in her was only physical. Her unwavering commitment to Zaun makes you feel guilty about your past ineffectiveness at times, but it also drives you to do whatever you can now to make up for it.
“You’re right, of course. I wasn’t thinking.”
Maybe you should consider moving here too, out of solidarity if nothing else. After all, it’s home for you, even if it’s been years since you called it that.
You can’t deny you like the idea of riding the bathysphere into work with Sevika every morning. You remember riding it up into Piltover with your father once or twice when you were little. It had felt like such a grand adventure at the time.
Rolling your eyes at yourself, you push away that train of thought. Who are you, thinking about relocating for a woman before you’ve even kissed her? As if there weren’t already a million things that could go wrong with the whole sleeping-with-your boss-thing without trying to become her neighbor at the same time.
“This way,” she says, pulling you back to the present as she pushes the heavy wooden door open. You follow her into a shabby but well-maintained lobby, dimly lit with lily-shaped sconces that show signs of recent dusting. The terrazzo flooring is cracked but gleaming with new polish, and the walls are freshly painted.
She gestures towards the once-opulent staircase that leads to the upstairs unit, reaching out for your hand as she begins to ascend. You try to bite back the little smile that pulls at your lips as her warm, calloused fingers close around yours. Just that simple touch makes something snap and sizzle between you, and her pace increases.
Faster than you can comprehend, she’s led you down a hallway and unlocked a door, throwing it open and tugging you inside. She uses your body and hers to close it, both of you stumbling as she pins you firmly against the sturdy wood. You have just enough of your senses to remain standing, fisting your hands in the folds of her cloak for support, before her tongue is in your mouth and nothing else matters.
She tastes hot and a little salty, with the lingering sweetness of whiskey. You let out a needy moan, completely forgetting any desire to downplay how much you want her. Her mouth is eager and insistent against yours, and all you can think about is more.
You drive into her hips-first, seeking contact, pressure. She makes a rough sound in response, and then her firm thigh is splitting yours, driving brutally upwards. Her prosthetic arm wraps around your waist to help you grind down on her.
“Sevika,” you gasp as the dulled pressure between your legs creates a sweet ache that only frustrates you. It’s too broad, too vague—you long for the more precise pleasure of her fingers, her tongue. You need far less fabric between you.
“My perfect little buttoned-up advisor. Let’s find out what it takes to unbutton you.”
As she says it, she pops the next button on your blouse with her thumb, following it with a maddeningly soft stroke down your sternum. The heat in her voice combined with the gentle touch leaves you raw and gasping, but you fight against the intensity of it, desperate to keep your wits about you.
“I’d say you’re well on your way,” you quip, attempting a cocky tone, but it mostly gets rubbed out by the needy rasp in your voice. She gives a soft huff of amusement, a knowing look in her eyes, before dipping her head to seal her lips over your pulse.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted you?” she growls into your neck after a moment of tasting you, ruthlessly raising the thigh between your legs until you’re balanced on your tiptoes and gasping. “Fuck. Of course you do. I haven’t exactly been subtle.”
A distant curiosity clears some of the lust-fog blanketing your brain. You cling to her thick shoulders to try and steady yourself, swallowing hard against the moan rising in your throat.
“I don’t, actually. How long?” you ask, trying to ignore the delicious pressure between your thighs and whatever incomprehensible things her lips are doing at your throat. “I used to think you hated me.”
“I did,” she admits with a low chuckle, pausing to nip the skin at the hinge of your jaw. “I thought you were an uppity cunt and hotter than you had any fucking right to be. The last thing I needed was that kind of distraction.”
You can’t help but giggle, remembering the violent looks you’d earned from her in those early days. A few times you’d actually braced yourself for an attack, though she’d never physically threatened you.
“No wonder you kept telling me to get the fuck out of your office.”
She huffs, pulling back to meet your eyes. “But you kept coming back.”
“There were times I nearly didn’t,” you admit, brushing a strand of dark hair out of her face. Your breath catches in your throat when her eyelids flutter a little at the touch. Fuck, she’s beautiful.
“But?”
You smirk, unable to resist throwing her own words back at her. “You were hotter than you had any fucking right to be.”
She leans away further, a look of pure disbelief on her face. “You kept the job ‘cause I was nice to look at?”
You let your head fall back against the door with a laugh, giddy and breathless as you circle your hips for some friction on her thigh. “And because after years in the trenches without results, I was not about to pass up the chance to elevate a Zaunite to a place of real influence in Piltover.”
“They expected me to fail. Wanted me to fail,” she acknowledges, stroking a warm thumb up the column of your throat before cupping your jaw, guiding your head back down until your gazes meet. “But not you.”
You shake your head gently, mirroring the serious look in her eyes. The vulnerability you find there takes you by surprise—you can see how much your support has meant to her.
“Idiots,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around her neck. “I took one look at you and knew you were going to be unstoppable.”
Sevika kisses you for that, long and hard. You groan against her mouth, clinging to her with renewed desperation. The pressure, the closeness—it’s everything. You lose yourself in the sensation of her tongue slipping between your lips, sliding sinfully against yours. You’re all heat and want and a deep, deep affection, one that takes you by surprise. If you could slip yourself inside her skin you absolutely would.
Her large hand moves over your body with intention as she kisses you, trailing down your arm, smoothing over the curve of your waist. You can’t help but let out little sounds of pleasure at every new touch, pulling away to suck in air as her fingers trail down to stroke the small of your back, the swell of your ass. She pauses, leaning back to look at you expectantly, waiting for an answer.
When you nod, she grabs.
“Fuck, that’s a good handful,” she purrs into your ear as she squeezes you through your skirt, her words kissing heat over the sensitive skin of your neck. “I knew it would be, but reality is so much better.”
Her metal hand smoothes down the line of your waist until she finds the other cheek, cool steel digging into fabric as she uses the grip to pull you against her hard. The sudden savagery in her touch makes something inside of you boil over, and you let out a harsh breath as you lunge for her mouth-first, unable to take another second of her teasing.
Sevika receives the kiss with a sound of feral satisfaction, her good hand releasing you to seize a fistful of hair at the nape of your neck. Her mouth drives against yours with a violent hunger, as if she means to devour you whole, and you’re eager to let her. Her kisses bruise and break and leave you clawing for more.
You don’t even know where to begin with all the straps and layers she wears, but the desire to feel her skin on yours makes you determined. Your fingers fumble in the gathers of wool at her right shoulder, searching for the clasp to her cloak.
After a moment, Sevika swats your hands away, and you hear something click and release as she tears the garment off without breaking the kiss. You immediately start searching her clothing again, trying to find something else to unbuckle, but she picks you up before you have any success, hoisting you half over her shoulder and carrying you to the couch.
She drops backwards onto it, bringing you with her, supporting you with an arm around your waist so you can straddle her and settle onto her lap. You let your skirt ride up until you feel cool air on the backs of your thighs, gasping sharply as both of her hands rise up to cup your ass. You let out a choked noise at the contrast of warm flesh and cold metal, rocking backward into her touch with a sigh.
“Shit, baby, those little moans. You’re so damn sweet,” Sevika sighs heavily, nuzzling into your cheek. “I usually scare off the sweet ones.”
“Maybe I’m not as sweet as I look,” you huff, leaning in to capture her earlobe between your teeth. You smile as you feel her breath hitch.
“You are though,” she presses, her hand sliding up over your ribs to squeeze a breast through your shirt as you continue to tease her ear. “Practically a fucking angel.”
You let out a soft wince of pleasure as her fingertips find your nipple and she twists, hard.
“I’m not feeling angelic at the moment,” you hiss when you can find your voice, unwilling to be written off so easily. You summon your boldness, snaking a hand down between you. Hesitating just long enough to make eye contact and give her a chance to protest, you cup her between her thighs, driving the heel of your hand against her. Your spine goes a little soft at the sheer heat of her through the soft leather of her pants, and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from moaning out loud.
Your attempt to prove your nerve earns a soft laugh from her, and her head falls forward until her mouth finds your neck. She sucks gently at the spot below your ear and then nips at the sensitive skin, hard enough to make you gasp, before covering your hand with her own so she can grind harder. “Taste just as sweet as you look,” she hums in a low bass, using her tongue to soothe her bite. “Bet you have pure honey between your legs.”
You blow out a breath, trying to slow your racing heart. “Only one way to find out,” you manage with a little shudder, struggling to keep the edge in your voice as she follows one of the tendons of your neck with her tongue.
“Oh, I plan to.” She weaves her fingers in the hair at your nape as her mouth works across your collarbone, and all you can do is squirm and press your palm against her harder, swallowing the pathetic whimper in your throat. “When I’m good and ready.”
You groan in frustration as cold metal closes around your wrist and she pulls your hand from between her legs, gently twisting it behind you and holding it to the small of your back. Her steely eyes meet yours, a wicked grin curving her full, dark lips.
“Sevika,” you complain, struggling half-heartedly against her iron grip.
“What?” she laughs, voice laced with a playful sort of cruelty. “I’ve been thinking about this for months. I’m not rushing it.”
Keeping your arm trapped, she untangles her fingers from your hair so she can roughly yank your top out of the waistband of your skirt. Then she has you on your feet, her thick forearm wrapped around your middle to steady you as she spins you around, pressing the entire length of her body against your back.
She walks you over to the small dining table across from the kitchen, casually kicking one of the chairs out of the way so she can press you into it. You’re breathless, shaking, all thoughts of keeping up with her utterly forgotten—you’re hers to do with as she pleases, and to your profound surprise, you love it.
All you can do is murmur little pleading noises as her hips drive hard into your ass, bending you forward until you have to plant both palms on the table for balance. You can feel the calloused fingers of her clawed right hand dragging up your leg, bringing your skirt with it. Her touch slides around the front of your thigh, sending heat pulsing through your core as her fingers toy with the lacy leg of your underwear.
“So much for no panties.” Her breath is hot in your ear as she lets out a soft huff of laughter, tongue darting out to taste the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. “Do you know how many times I’ve thought about getting my hand up one of these stupid little skirts?”
Just the thought of her imagining this while you’re both supposed to be focused on Very Serious Council Matters sets off a delicious thrill low in your belly, making your heart pound and your face flood with heat.
“Please,” is all you can gasp in reply as you press backwards into the cradle of her pelvis.
“Please what?” she teases. A deep laugh hums warmly against your back and you drop your head back against her shoulder, wanting to feel every bit of her you can. Hot fingers flatten over your lower abdomen, sliding slowly across your quivering belly until her powerful forearm spans your hip bones. You wriggle in her grip, grasping uselessly for her wrist as you try to push her hand between your legs.
Her arm doesn’t budge.
“Touch me, Sevika. Please. Touch—” But why is the request so hard to put into words? You’re hot and weak and panting in her arms, there’s not an ounce of dignity left in your body, but still you shy away from finishing your sentence.
“You know I’m going to make you say it,” she growls, and you can feel a smile in the kiss she presses to the top of your spine. A full-body shiver overtakes you as her hand moves back to your inner thigh, pressing her fingers into the soft flesh before pulling downwards in a way that shoots arrows of sensation directly to your clit. Then her nails dig into you and you groan, gripping the edge of the table for dear life as your hips squirm, seeking.
“Touch you where?” she presses, voice dark and rough.
“Fuck you,” you laugh, knowing perfectly well you can’t win this fight. “Touch my pussy,” you concede in a whisper, and not without a note of sarcasm. You’re grateful she can’t see the flush it brings to your cheeks—you don’t think your ego can take any more of her teasing.
The embarrassment is soon forgotten as she immediately rewards you, cupping her entire hand between your thighs and lifting, using her grip to pull you back against her. You cry out at the shock and pleasure of it, writhing into the touch as you gasp for air.
Fuck.
“Oh, baby,” she groans in your ear, readjusting her hand so her fingertips can slip your underwear to the side and trace up your slit with an unbearable softness. Her metal arm comes up to span your shoulders, keeping you firmly trapped against her. “You’re already this wet for me?”
You whine pitifully as she pulls her hand away to hold it up for inspection, pressing her forefinger and thumb together then slowly separating them. You can feel her grin against your temple at the string of slick it creates.
A soft huff of giddy laughter leaves you at the sight, and you somehow find the power to speak. “I’ve ruined good lingerie just watching you pace as you dictate notes to me,” you admit in a throaty voice. You begin to slowly rock your hips side to side against her thighs, teasing her, testing your power. “It’s a miracle I’m not dripping onto your floor right now.”
Sevika curses, metal arm tightening across your shoulders. Then, without warning, she releases you completely, falling backwards a step.
“Strip,” she demands, eyes black with lust when you spin around to look at her. “Unless you want me to rip up those pretty clothes. Though I do like the idea of sending you home in nothing but my cloak.”
The mention of being sent home makes you frown, but you do as she says, reaching for the last few buttons of your blouse and pulling them apart slowly, one by one. “Don’t I get to see you too?”
“If you earn it. Hurry up,” she barks, her eyes fixed on your hands as you move to the next button.
Not yet bold enough to test her patience, you pull the last two buttons open in a single tug, shrugging out of the flimsy blouse and letting it fall with a whisper onto the floor. You find the zipper to your skirt next, shaky fingers fumbling as you grow drunk on the intensity of her gaze on you. Eventually it falls to the floor as well and you step out of it, toeing out of your shoes in the same motion.
“Let me see those tits, baby,” she growls, fingers flexing at her sides as if it’s all she can do not to reach for you. There’s a wild, almost lost look in her eyes, like nothing exists to her in this moment but you.
Fuck, you need her to touch you. You pop open the clasp to your bra and let it fall away, reaching down for the waistband to your underwear—but then Sevika is on you, cold metal arm coming around your waist before she bends you backwards over it, savagely burying her face in your chest. She uses her right hand to push your thong down your thighs, briefly diving to pluck it away when it falls to the floor.
“Mine now,” she growls with a wicked grin, stuffing the garment into her pocket before lunging forward to suck one of your nipples into her mouth.
“Shit, Sevika,” you curse at the sudden shock of sensation. Her lips are opened wide over your breast, as if she means to swallow it whole—you’re transfixed by the sight, staring down as if to permanently carve it into your brain. You tangle your fingers in her hair until you’re pulling, hips driving towards her as you desperately seek out some friction.
A muscular forearm scoops under your ass and Sevika lifts you, your nipple still held fast between her lips. You wrap your legs around her waist and sigh in relief as you make contact with her hard abs. The sound becomes a low, needy moan as you begin to grind yourself against them.
“Fuck,” murmurs Sevika as she releases your breast, looking down at where you’re pressed against her. “I need that in my mouth.”
“Me too,” you agree breathlessly, fingers digging into her shoulders as you drive yourself against her harder. “Please.”
Suddenly she’s moving, thundering towards the bedroom at the back of the flat, smearing messy kisses across the tops of your breasts. You barely register that you’ve entered the room before you’re falling through the air, giving a little gasp of laughter as you hit the mattress with a soft bounce. When she doesn’t follow you down, you open your eyes. She’s standing over you, breathing hard and staring.
“Show me,” she says simply, before letting her gaze travel down over every inch of your naked skin. You swallow hard, knowing what she wants.
Bravely, you draw your knees up, splitting them apart for her slowly. You’re fixated on her face, mesmerized by her reactions. There’s a new, seething fire in her eyes as they settle on the curls between your legs. You’re desperate to pull her down, kiss her senseless, grab her hands and put them all over you—but instinctively you know she’s calling the shots. At least for this round. You bite your lip, barely holding back the instinct to beg.
A few breathless seconds pass and you begin to squirm under her hungry gaze, realizing how long it’s been since you’ve been naked in front of anyone—let alone spread wide for inspection.
Her eyes return to yours, seeming to notice your self-consciousness. She gives you a grin that turns your insides to lava.
“You’re so fucking pretty, baby,” she assures you in a warm, deep tone, resting a large palm on your right knee. Her thumb strokes you idly and she meets your eyes. “Perfect.”
Your face burns at the compliment and you can’t suppress the pleased smile that follows.
“You just gonna look? Or…” Your hips flex upward involuntarily as you say it, desperate to get closer.
One corner of her mouth quirks up, and she looks immensely satisfied with herself. “So eager.”
Her fingers stroke down to the crease of your thigh, teasing the edge of your curls. You shudder at the contact, so maddeningly delicate. All you’ve wanted from Sevika since the moment you first saw her was for her to lay hands on you, and the softness might drive you insane if it goes on for much longer.
“Fuck,” you pant, body twisting in desperation. “Sevika. Stop teasing.”
Finally, she seems ready to oblige. With a satisfied smile, she wraps both arms around your thighs and hauls you bodily across the mattress with a strength that takes your breath away. She settles herself until her lips hover just above your pulsing clit, flicking her eyes up to yours. Her smile grows wider.
Then her head drops and your world goes black at the edges.
You can see her cheeks hollow out as she sucks you into her mouth, full lips disappearing into your folds. She watches your expression intently as her tongue finds your entrance, swirling around it teasingly as best she can while maintaining suction.
“Fuck,” you pant, trying not to move, to do anything that might dislodge or distract her. Your hands claw at the sheets, desperate to ground yourself, to control.
Holding you in her mouth, she begins to move her head slowly head back and forth, creating a sensation that has your back arching and your legs shaking. It feels like she’s devouring you and it’s mind-meltingly hot. Any self-consciousness you might have felt is forgotten as she releases a desperate groan against your soaked skin, burying her face against you even harder. The sounds falling from your lips are messy, wild. You know you must sound ridiculous, but if Sevika notices, she doesn’t seem to mind.
She slowly pulls off of you, gently stretching the skin of your inner labia before letting it fall from her lips with a soft pop. Her eyes meet yours and she gives you a wide, satisfied smile. “You’re so fucking pretty, baby. You taste so good.”
The praise makes you clench, hard, filling your lower belly with little sparks of heat and excitement and an almost unbearable emptiness.
“Please, Sevika. I need...”
“Tell me.” Her voice wraps around your senses like velvet, lush and provocative. Making you want.
“I…please.” You let out a little huff of annoyance and thrust your hips towards her, knowing she knows what you need. Irritated she’s so intent on making you put it into words.
“Fuck, sweetheart. You’re not all buttoned up still, are you? Tell me what you want, baby. I want to hear it.”
You fidget in frustration, shuffling your feet and crushing the sheets in your fists, but you know you can’t deny her. She’s a woman who gets what she wants, and the last thing you want is to displease her.
“I—damn it,” you mutter, staring hard into her stunning gray eyes as the sheer heat in her expression injects new courage into you. “I want you inside me, Sevika. Your fingers, your tongue, I don’t care, just…fill me up. Fuck me. Please.”
You watch her lip curl in satisfaction before her mouth disappears below the curve of your cunt again, and despite your explicit request, you are wholly unprepared for the euphoria that follows as she dives, driving her tongue deep inside you. It’s hot, wet, thick, perfect. She thrusts into you once, twice, a third time…you’re overwhelmed, violent rivets of pleasure piercing you through with each stab of her tongue, and then her hand moves and your whole body seizes as you scream.
She’s trapped your clit between forefinger and thumb, working it back and forth while her tongue writhes inside of you, and you’re ruined by it, ruined by her, head emptied of everything but her touch and the pleasure she’s building inside of you. She holds nothing back, half-feral as she puts her whole body into consuming you. Her gorgeous nose is buried deep in your curls as her fierce silver eyes lock onto yours, making something hot and rich burst low in your belly. You arch your spine and throw back your head and lose track of how many times in a row you’ve sobbed her name. SevikaSevikaSevikaSevikaSevika—
Your hips begin to buck wildly toward her face, no longer under your control. Her metal arm clamps down over your abdomen to hold you in place, the cold, pinching metal easily forgotten as her mouth bears down even harder. The noises coming from between your legs are utterly obscene and only heighten your excitement, but you fight the orgasm, desperate to stay in this state of bliss for just a few moments more...
Then she pushes the pad of her thumb upwards against your clit in exactly the right way, and it all spins apart.
She stays with you as you collapse into your climax, working you through it with fingers and tongue. The intensity of it seizes through your muscles, limbs shaking and jerking as pleasure rips through you, as shimmers of light burst behind your eyes. You don’t know if you’ve ever come this hard.
And it was only her first attempt.
You’re not sure how long you lay there panting after, but Sevika is patient, pressing soft, messy kisses to the insides of your thighs as your breathing calms and the aftershocks relent. Your entire body feels heavy and weak, but you still manage to lift a hand to tangle your fingers in her silky hair.
“Good?” she sighs as she rests her cheek against your trembling inner thigh, and all you can do for a moment is reply with weak laughter.
“I didn’t even know what good was until just now,” you laugh, jerking a little as she presses a parting kiss to one side of your sensitive clit. Then she’s crawling up your body, dropping more kisses as she goes, until she finds your mouth.
After a moment of lazily indulging herself against your lips, she murmurs in that deep tone that makes you shiver, “Can you taste yourself, baby?”
You nod, the corners of your mouth curling into a faint grin. It no longer occurs to you to be shy.
She returns the smile with a pleased one of her own, running her thumb over your swollen lower lip. “Just like I guessed—sweet as honey. Couldn’t help but gorge on you a bit.”
“Consider this an open invitation to do so at your leisure,” you chuckle with a sigh. You’re probably pushing your luck, but you refuse to believe tonight will be your only night with her. Whatever she just awakened in you isn’t going to be satiated anytime soon.
A look of surprise opens up her expression, and she glances down. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say she looks…shy. “Make sure you mean that, ‘cause I’ll take you up on it.”
You reach up to brush a strand of hair out of her eyes, letting your fingers slide down her cheek to trace over the glowing veins of hex-blue that mark her there, and there’s a new softness in her gaze that snags at something behind your breastbone. You wonder how long it’s been since anyone has touched her out of pure affection.
“I mean it,” you reassure her, pressing your palm to the scar. The warmth of her alone is enough to make your heartbeat start to pick up again.
She leans into your hand, eyes fluttering closed as if savoring the touch. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not even close to being done with you.”
Then she dips her head to capture your lips again.