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When the realization that Vi’s fingers were still buried inside her permeated her consciousness, it hit like a runaway train of pure lust.More.
She raised her eyes to Vi’s and saw her own hunger reflected in them. Before she knew it, Vi was moving, dragging her dress down, exposing her breasts and yanking Chiara to the edge of the desk while kneeling down in front of her.
Her vision grayed as the mouth tasted her, and she may have blacked out, because it seemed like she was coming again within seconds, Vi’s ravenous mouth refusing to let up. Chiara needed her unsteady hands to push weakly at that silken hair to make her stop, too sensitive now, too overcome, too overwhelmed, by both her orgasm and the reality suddenly as present as Vi’s grip on her thighs.
Rising up, Vi wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, the gesture as irreverent as it was sexy, and Chiara’s mouth watered. She wanted to lick herself off those lips. Wanted to push Vi against the wall and take her apart, exactly like she had done for her.
But when she reached out, Vi stepped back. Her eyes were wide, fever-bright, surveying Chiara closely for perhaps a moment too long. Because as Chiara’s breathing stilled and she sat up, she became aware of the state Vi had left her in. The dangerous, self-satisfied glint in those eyes began to make sense, even if she wanted to hide.
She was spread on the desk, dress bunched up, leaving her naked from the waist down, exposed and vulnerable, sated and bruised. She knew she looked like she felt, fucked six ways from Sunday and begging for more.
“Vi…” She still did not recognize her own voice, but it was tremulous this time. Like she’d screamed herself hoarse. And maybe she had, since there’d been that rather conspicuous moment when she was almost certain she wasn’t entirely conscious. God, the things this woman did to her. After all this time. The power this woman had over her. Vi destroyed her. Sexually and emotionally.
Even now, simply looking at her, eyes feasting on what the mouth had done just moments ago, Chiara felt exposed. Defenseless. Wrung inside out for her own pleasure and on this one woman’s whim. Because despite the satisfaction and the haze of her orgasms, Chiara was left completely clueless as to what it meant.
Vi had not allowed her to touch, other than their kisses, and even as Chiara lifted her hand to pull down the hem of her dress, Vi watched her every move speculatively.
“Are you going to fuck me or hit me, Vi?”
Well, that made those eyes finally tear themselves away from the marks on her skin, from her naked breasts and meet hers.
“Is there a difference?” The voice was remarkably steady. Vi lowered her head and came closer again, taking Chiara in her arms with soul shattering gentleness. Like she was broken. Like Vi was the one who broke her.
“I was rough with you. I apologize.”
Chiara shook her head, but Vi simply laid a finger on her lips and she quieted.
Yes, Vi was very much aware of her own power these days.
“Shhh…” The sound, the same one Vi had uttered when her fingers were inside her, caused a Pavlovian reflex in Chiara. Her throat worked, and Vi’s lips curved into a smirk. Arrogant. This was new, too. And it was sexy. Chiara opened her mouth and licked at the finger still resting against her lips, finally tasting herself. The smirk widened, and Vi’s voice took on that low tone.
“You have such an aversion to apologies. It’s an unhealthy habit.”
“I seem to have many of them. And most of them where you are concerned.” Chiara’s hands reached up and tucked a lock behind Vi’s ear, letting her fingers trail over the delicate shell, delighting in the shiver her gesture caused.
Vi caught her hand, bringing it to her chest, keeping it there, perhaps thinking Chiara couldn’t do much damage that way. Instead, she could feel Vi’s heart beating a steady tattoo and Chiara took solace in the rhythm and strength from it. It beat too rapidly, giving Vi away in a way her eyes and her smile did not.
“I was under the impression that you lived a healthy lifestyle, Chiara.” Vi squeezed her fingers, and she wondered at the choice of words. Was Vi asking about what she had been up to these past years? Because she’d been so insistent on being totally disinterested only days before.
“I think five years of dieting makes it imperative that I fall off the wagon every once in a while. At least till I get my fill before my next fast. Plus, I can’t abstain now. I need to… to you…”
She stumbled over the words, feeling foolish once again. Needy, still aching, and already ready for more. And had she mentioned foolish? She wanted to bolt. She couldn’t yet.
They watched each other then. Combatants behind drawn lines, a short armistice to discuss terms. Terms Chiara wished she understood, since she had no idea where her words were coming from or what Vi was really thinking.
The heart under her fingertips kept its elevated beat, and Chiara felt like it was the only honest thing about them, limbs intertwined, mouths inches apart, Vi’s fingers still holding the scent and the essence of Chiara.
Vi’s heart was the only true thing? Chiara wanted to laugh at herself. Wasn’t this how she had gotten hersbrokenthe last time?
Some of her thoughts must have shown on her face, because Vi let go of her hand and gravity did its job, both of them watching it fall limply into her lap.
“You don’t need to do anything. And I already apologized for being rough with you earlier. But I won’t be your ‘cheat meal,’ Chiara. I’ve had the dubious honor of settling for that role once before.”
Well, what the girl hadn’t been capable of—that cruelty—the woman had become masterful at.
Chiara pushed her away and, with whatever strength her shaking knees could muster, slid off the desk, righting her bodice, tucking away both naked skin and whatever dignity she had left.
“Remember how during that night you said you were afraid that I’d break you?” She straightened her shoulders, pleased when Vi’s eyes followed her every move. After a second, the gray orbs lowered, and the nod Chiara received was jerky. “Well, you broke me first.”
