Chapter Text
Harper’s tartan skirt joined Sweetpea’s lace bodice at the foot of the pencil post bed in the guestroom. Her gray dress shirt and the knit tie stayed on upon request. Sweetpea, naked, stretched out atop the sheets and stretched with her fingers interlacing and her toes curling. The floors were real pinewood, Harper could smell it.
“Pretty privilege is real,” Sweetpea sighed, as Harper crawled up her body to sit on her tummy. “You’re proof of that.”
“How now, brown cow?”
“Sleeping with a subordinate breaks some type of rule, I’m sure. And don’t think I don’t notice you’re much kinder to me than you are to Anraj.”
Harper hummed, planting her hands on either side of Sweetpea’s head to stare down at her. The mattress was firm. “You think I’m breaking rules and sweet talking you ‘cause you’re pretty?”
“You feel more inclined to, yes.”
“Wouldn’t that be boring?” Harper took Sweetpea’s ear between her thumb and her forefinger, rolling the warm cartilage of her helix in a massaging pinch. “You should know I’m adverse to making decisions based on how things appear.”
“Sapiosexual, then?”
Harper laughed. “Perhaps, but it’s rare I meet someone that’s a bigger smartass than me. Even if I didn’t take you on at Leviathan, you definitely needed saving from Pierpoint. I’m ready to sit on your pretty privileged face now, by the way.”
“Be my guest,” Sweetpea encouraged, scooting back to leverage her head on a plump pillow. “Keep talking to me.”
“What was it you said earlier?” Harper asked, shifting her weight to her knees as she scooched up and split her thighs around Sweetpea’s head. “You like it when I pay attention to you?”
“Love it, actually. Seems like if it isn’t numbers or exploitation, it’s hard to keep your fancy.” Sweetpea draped her hair around the pillow so it wasn’t caught under her shoulders and licked her lips. “There’s no way you’re heavier than my cat, so please, actually sit on my mouth.”
Harper obliged, spreading her legs a bit farther apart as she eased her weight on Sweetpea’s parted lips. Sweetpea’s arms hooked under-and-around her thighs, pulling Harper into a deliberate weight distribution from her legs to her groin. “Wow,” Harper breathed, her hands coming to grip Sweetpea’s hair for balance. “What a strong tongue you have.”
Even as Sweetpea smiled and licked up between her labia, Harper could feel her mind working around idle thoughts. “If only numbers or exploitation keep my attention, aren’t you worried I’m going to exploit you?”
“Mhm,” Sweetpea hummed, and the suction of her lips made an audible pop when she pulled away to add, “But I’m hella good at feeding you numbers, right?”
“Hella.” It was kinda fun riding a woman’s face, like balancing on a seesaw. Harper rolled her hips around to test the pressure of Sweetpea’s tongue against her clit, then dragged down to make her jaw open up. Every gust of breath tickled Harper’s light trimming of pubic hair. Sweetpea’s hands began an upward trek around her tattoos.
“Petra’s stifling me,” Harper blurted out. Sweetpea hummed again in a go on type of way, and her tongue seemed to stiffen up. “Nothing egregious. Just…uncomfortable.”
The silence was deafening. Harper liked to think while she was getting fucked, the brain activity was a necessary diffusion to the physical injections of happy hormones. It also allowed her orgasm to sneak up on her as a prowling panther instead of getting micro-managed into efficiency, Stern Style.
“I don’t like playing it safe,” Harper continued. Sweetpea had closed her eyes to focus on working her mouth around Harper’s cunt; she was mindful of her teeth and deliberate with the patterned strokes of her tongue. “There are other positions besides financial trading if safety or security is your MO. Leviathan Alpha is profitable, sure, but so is fucking Walmart.”
“You gonna chat with her about it?” Sweetpea asked.
“I don’t like to compromise. Keep doing that rolly tongue thing, please. A little to the left—your right, my left. Ah, Sweetpea, yes! Damn, you’re squirming so much,” Harper said, peeking over her shoulder to see her long, pale legs crossing and twisting over the other. “Does eating pussy turn you on? Nod for yes, shake your head for no.”
Sweetpea nodded, yes.
“My pussy in particular, or…?”
“Both.”
“Good answer.” Harper tilted forward, muffling Sweetpea’s mouth with the meat of her cunt. “Focus your tongue on my clit. You’re such a good girl, Sweetpea. You like working for me?”
Sweetpea nodded, her eyes fluttering shut again. The fabric rustled as she crossed her legs.
“You like my attention, you like eating my pussy, you like working for me. Wanting to be this close to me of all people is never a good sign—I don’t even want to know what your drama is.”
Sweetpea nipped her clit with her teeth, making Harper squeal with shocked laughter. It also felt kinda good. “Don’t act like it’s all one-sided.”
“Oh, I’d never.” Harper almost admitted right there that Sweetpea was one of her best co-workers, if not her favorite, but that could be weaponized in future negotiations and something told her they would be engaging in a lot of those. “Try to make me come in your mouth. I’m going to run something by you, same rules: nod for yes, shake for no.”
Sweetpea nodded, and sealed her lips around Harper’s clit, rolling it against her teeth. Harper’s nerves came alive with ticklish pleasure that made her womb clench upon itself. Her thighs clamped around Sweetpea’s ears and it took actual effort to relax against the winding tide of building orgasm.
“I’ve been talking with Otto,” Harper started, closing her eyes to focus on feeling, not seeing. “I’m pushing for a short-only fund. Completely in my control, so I get all the risk, all the reward. You still with me?”
Sweetpea nodded.
“Otto’s worried about the optics, but that’s him posturing. He’s equally exploitative, he just doesn’t like saying it without cloaking it in metaphors or euphemisms.” Harper had found a good rhythm with her hips and Sweetpea had pursed her lips so perfectly, sucking her clit with just enough tension to keep it sealed while permitting some to-and-fro. “You’re gonna make me come so hard.”
Sweetpea nodded.
“Fuck, okay, lemme focus.” Harper reached out to grab the headboard, bracing herself to give more mobility to her hips. “I talked a pretty picture for Otto, you know, I had to secure another hundred-million dollar investment. I told him I’d take an ethical approach, only target businesses that are engaging in fraud, misleading the public—companies like Lumi that are actually competent.”
Sweetpea nodded.
“Financial forensics,” Harper sighed, tilting her head back to breathe through the joyous undercurrent zipping through her nerve endings. Her skin was slicking with sweat. Sweetpea’s hands were groping her ass cheeks, kneading and pulling them apart. “People lie, numbers don’t.”
Sweetpea nodded. She started lathing her tongue all over Harper’s pussy to make up for the quivering in Harper’s thighs.
“The way you see numbers is basically surgical,” Harper said, releasing the headboard to clutch Sweetpea’s soft head again. “It takes me seven minutes to crunch numbers on a spreadsheet and I’ve literally watched you skim that shit like a receipt. If I could make your brain a hamburger, I’d eat it.”
Sweetpea snorted and said something that sounded like Americans imagining burgers.
“Yeah, yeah. I need someone to make my ideas tangible.” Harper’s thumbs were stroking Sweetpea’s sweat-slick forehead, smoothing her downy hairs with a tenderness at odds with the increasingly frantic face humping. “I need to know exactly when and exactly how much to short these businesses. I know you can read between the lines here. If you want to play it safe…”
Sweetpea nodded. One of her grabby hands had worked its way between her cheeks and Harper gasped in delight when she felt a fingertip graze her asshole. Her heart kicked it into high-gear.
“Yes! Push it in!” Harper tensed on reflex, then forced her anus to relax and push back against the probing tip of Sweetpea’s index finger.
The unusual tension was the perfect point of focus for the amorphous pleasure pooling in her lower belly. Her cunt was clamping with want for a similar intrusion. “Deeper, a little deeper!”
Sweetpea obliged because she wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty which is exactly why Harper needed her. She knew to rotate her finger in micro-circles and nibble Harper’s clit at the same time, and kept nibbling it when Harper’s thighs crushed her head.
Harper was selfish about it, trapping Sweetpea beneath her as she tried to push her entire body into her hot, active mouth. Her tongue was lashing her clit and burrowing in her hole, slurping at her arousal. Teeth were scraping her labia. Her finger’s in my ass! Her finger’s in my ass! Harper’s brain fixated on the thought, dropping all awareness to her stretching rectum. She wanted to corrupt this girl, unspool her innards, and swallow the canary on its way to the coal mines.
“Ohhh, Sweetpea!” The orgasm bowed her in half, pulling her muscles into a knot of implosive tensity before releasing through her body in uncontrollable tremors. White hot ecstasy jolted through her spirit and her clit spasming between Sweetpea’s teeth and tongue was the live wire. Her pussy was being juiced. “Stop sucking, you minx!”
The rebounding pulse of her womb combined with her ass squeezing Sweetpea’s finger made Harper physically shake with each crest of her climax working through her system. Sweetpea was moaning lasciviously into her pussy, pushing her tongue up for Harper to grind against. Her tiny body was overflowing with yummy contentment.
“Ah, fuck…! Come with me,” Harper huffed out, in no haste to ease off Sweetpea’s mouth. “You negotiate your contract, tell me your terms, it’ll be more pay. More freedom. I’ll look out for you.”
You’ll be mine, is what she doesn’t say, because she doesn’t want to steal the Ace out the deck before it’s had a fair chance to be dealt. She will, however, cajole the panther into a collar. Make it pink to match. Right after rubbing her cunt all over it to lay claim.
“Okay,” Sweetpea says, wiggling up to free her puffy, pink mouth from Harper’s possessive pussy. “I’ll follow you along, but only when it’s certain. I’m talking ink on paper, dotted line, sign here. Moving on from Pierpoint was a no-brainer, but Petra’s got, like, long-term career development.”
“Petra doesn’t have Otto Mastyn. And I’m hoping Petra doesn’t have you. You’ve made this little trip worth my while, Sweetpea. It’s only right that I return the favor.”