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Riley’s barely finished tidying her hotel room when a knock comes at the door.
She tosses the top that she’s folding onto a chair, kicks a pair of platform boots under the bed, and casts a quick glance around for anything else she’s missed, when another urgent wrapping of knuckles on wood interrupts her. She can practically hear the impatience in the gesture, and grins even as she rolls her eyes.
“Alright, alright,” she says as she unlocks the latch, “I’m not going anywhere.”
Blake does not wait to be invited inside.
She has a habit of entering every room like she owns it, and it’s no different here. If Riley really wanted to be a brat about it, she’d call her out, but the truth is that she likes that Blake feels so comfortable in her space. While she locks the door, Blake checks out this week’s hotel room, hands in her back pockets and gaze touching upon the subtle signs of life that Riley has already brought into the space.
Inspection complete, Blake pivots around to face her and smiles—smug, the way she knows gets under Riley’s skin.
“You cleaned up for me,” she notes, checking Riley out. “Cute.”
Riley scoffs.
“I am, aren’t I?” Without her shoes on, Blake’s height advantage is pronounced. Riley glares at her boots as she closes the gap between them. “Maybe that’s why you got here so quickly after sending that text. That’s got to be a record, I think. Couldn’t wait to get your hands on me, could you?”
Blake does not take the bait, but nods her head in amused agreement.
“Something like that,” she says, and slides her hands around Riley’s hips once she’s close enough to touch.
Riley meets her on her tiptoes.
The kiss is slow, not tentative but indulgent. Eyes closed, Riley wraps her arms loosely around Blake’s shoulders and angles her head ever so slightly to one side, better to deepen it. Blake’s tongue meets her own, seconds later, and Riley sighs into the kiss. Between the bus and the latest challenge reveal, they’ve had little time for this, and she’s missed it. A little too much, if she’s forced to be honest with herself.
The thought does not scare her like it should.
It lingers, warm, at the edges of her mind, her own private indulgence.
Then Blake tugs her in close by the hips, and it evaporates completely.
“Oh. I wondered where that went.” Riley pulls back from the kiss to find Blake already watching her, over-confident and far too satisfied with herself. She trails one hand down from Blake’s shoulders, her chest, over her stomach, then cups the bulge between her legs. Blake sucks in a breath as Riley pushes the toy up against her, the smile on her face faltering for just a second before she recovers it. “This is why you were in such a rush, huh?”
Blake’s teeth graze her bottom lip.
“Do you know how tight these jeans are? I’m not getting papped in 4K while I’m wearing a dick.”
Riley laughs loudly.
“Why not? It looks fucking good on you,” she says, and grins when Blake preens.
“Obviously. But this isn’t for the world to see.”
“It’s for me?” Riley asks with a mock-gasp, but Blake looks far too pleased when she nods her head. “You spoil me. Sit down.”
Blake falters, surprised, when Riley shoves her backwards towards the bed, but she catches herself before she can stumble. She sends Riley a mock-glare that’s immediately spoiled by her smile and the way that she does, in fact, take a seat on the edge of the bed. Riley watches her with something far too close to fondness, then lowers herself to her knees.
Before Blake can get excited, Riley tugs one of her boots nearer and begins to unlace it. Trust Blake to put on the boots without a zipper before leaving her room; just for that, Riley takes her time unfastening them. Blake doesn’t seem to mind. She leans back on her hands like she’s got all the time in the world and nowhere better to be, all while admiring the view.
“You know, I wondered when this would happen,” Riley says, her gaze darting up briefly to the noticeable bulge in the front of Blake’s jeans. “When you told me to leave it with you, I thought this must be what you were planning.”
“You hoped I was,” Blake says, and it doesn’t sound like a guess.
Riley meets her gaze with a smile.
“I did.”
The first boot comes loose and Blake pulls her foot out of it, leaving Riley to work on the second. By the time she’s finished and stands, Blake’s grown impatient enough that she slides her hands around the backs of her thighs, urging her nearer. Riley lets herself be guided. Her hands go to Blake’s shoulders as she kneels on the bed either side of her hips, then lowers herself into her lap. She is just close enough that when she rolls her hips forward, testing, Blake groans as the toy is pressed up against the apex of her thighs.
“Does that feel good?” Riley asks, and kisses her.
Blake moans against her mouth.
Her hands wrap around Riley’s hips, where she urges her to repeat the move, and Riley does. There is no rush in their movements, just a slow sensuality as the kiss deepens and every lingering line of tension from their day loosens and falls away. Riley could stay like this all night. Her arousal is a dull buzz that she could ignore, set to one side, in favour of how warm Blake makes her feel when her hands slide up the back of her t-shirt, palms flat against her bare skin.
“Tell me you’ve got all night,” Blake mutters as she draws back, just far enough so that she can duck her face into the crook of Riley’s throat, instead, and lay a trail of kisses there. Riley tilts her head back to give her better access, and the dull buzz of her arousal hisses as it ignites. When Riley doesn’t immediately answer, Blake nips at her skin, not hard enough to leave a mark. “Tell me we’re not going to be interrupted.”
Riley gasps and sinks a hand into her hair, keeping her there.
“My phone is on silent,” she manages, breathy. “And I told everyone I’m having an early night. They won’t come here unless production plan something last minute.”
Blake groans at the idea and lifts her head to capture Riley’s lips in a kiss.
Beneath Riley’s t-shirt, clever fingers find the clasp in her bra and make short work of unclipping it. It falls loose around her breasts, and Blake’s hands immediately slip underneath, finding her nipples with her thumbs. Riley gasps into her mouth, her hips stuttering out of rhythm, and that’s all the cue Blake needs to pull away just long enough to rip the t-shirt and bra away from her body.
As her clothes fall to the floor, Riley sits back on her heels, flushed and breathing heavy.
The room is not cold, but the sudden shift in temperature causes goosebumps to raise over her chest. Blake pouts when she notices, but it’s mock-sympathy and she does a poor job of keeping it up around her smirk. She makes up for it when she cups her hands around Riley’s breasts, not gently. Riley gasps and rocks her hips against her almost just out of reflex.
“Sensitive,” Blake tells her, and it sounds like an accusation, but her expression verges on the cusp of awe as she rolls dusky nipples against her thumbs, studying Riley’s face for reaction. “I think I could get you off just like this. Sometimes, I’m tempted to try.”
Riley fights her reaction, pressing the back of her hand against her mouth.
Blake tuts, disapproving.
“Don’t hide it.”
“I have neighbours, you know?” Riley tells her, shaky, but lowers her hand.
Blake shakes her head. “I really don’t fucking care.”
With that, she ducks her head and takes one of Riley’s breasts into her mouth. Riley’s reaction is immediate: her body folds, shaking, until she is bent low with one hand sunk into Blake’s hair, her mouth hovering just above the shell of her ear. A barely audible curse stutters out of her as Blake draws her nipple between her lips, sucking forcefully, then pinches it between her teeth.
Riley jolts.
The noise that leaves her is high-pitched and embarrassing.
“Gentle,” she hisses, and then whimpers as Blake immediately follows instruction.
She takes her time with her, pressing the flat of her tongue against the tight bud of Riley’s nipple, then pulling it between her lips. She keeps any contact with her teeth minimal, incidental, and then—tilting her head up just enough to catch the expression on Riley’s face—she pulls back almost completely, until the only feather-light touch is from the very tip of her tongue as it flicks back and forth against the stiff peak of her nipple.
Riley draws in a shuddering, stuttering breath and swears again.
Her pleasure teeters just over the cusp of too much.
With a whimper, she cups her hands beneath Blake’s jaw and urges her away from her breast and up to meet her mouth. There is nothing slow about this kiss. Tension in her arms makes Riley’s hands shake as she licks her tongue into Blake’s mouth, seeking out her own. Her hips begin to rock against the bulge between Blake’s legs, and suddenly she’s close. She’s mortifyingly close and her orgasm is within reach.
As if she can tell, Blake cups her breasts in both hands and urges her on right until the end—when she pulls away, drops her hands to Riley’s hips, and forces her to stop. Riley hisses and blinks open her eyes, and for a moment there is nothing in her but fury and unrealised arousal. Then she sees Blake’s grin, and a different kind of heat coils in her belly.
“Fuck you,” she says, and feels her cheeks heat as they turn pink.
Blake’s grin deepens into twin dimples on her cheeks.
“Fuck, you’re cute when you’re this needy.”
Then she laughs and pecks at Riley’s lips.
“Slow down, sweetheart,” Blake murmurs against her mouth. “I’ve got all night.”
“I’ve not,” Riley frowns, and shoves the leather jacket off Blake’s shoulders.
Blake removes it with help, but there’s an amused little smirk on her lips the entire time. Her tank top is next, pulled up over her head and all her hair, until Riley can toss it, with heat, over the side of the bed. Her irritation is curbed, briefly, by the sight of Blake’s topless body.
It’s unfair that she looks this fucking good naked, Riley thinks, that she can almost forgive her teasing.
She watches as her own hands slide up Blake’s ribs to take handfuls of her breasts, her bottom lip drawn into her mouth. It is a travesty that Blake can’t be seen in public like she is—with her tits out, her lipstick smudged, and a bulge between her legs—but Riley can’t deny the thrill it gives her to be the only person in the world, right now, who gets to see it.
As always, Blake’s mouth has to ruin the moment.
She wets her lips, grins, and tilts her chin up towards Riley until she captures her attention.
“Like what you see?”
“Yes,” Riley immediately answers, with a look of complete sincerity that stuns Blake almost as much as it charms her. “You’re beautiful.”
She does not give Blake time to get in her head about it, but kisses her, close, until she can feel soft breasts against her own. Riley hums against her mouth at the sensation, her hands snaking around to Blake’s back, up under her arms to feel the tension in her shoulders. Good. She’s not the only one affected. Sometimes, with Blake, it’s hard for her to tell.
“Take these off,” Blake says, pulling back, with a tug at the waistband of her trousers.
Riley nods her head and tries to stand, but Blake beats her to it, taking the full weight of her as she pushes herself up from the bed. Riley fumbles for her footing, dazed, but Blake’s smile brings her quickly back down to earth.
“Show off,” she scoffs, and rips the button on her trousers open.
Blake denies nothing as she does the same to her jeans, and Riley hesitates, distracted, as she watches the strap spring loose from between her legs. Blake grunts like it hadn’t been comfortable to keep it so confined, and kicks her jeans off both her legs until she’s standing fully bare. Riley hurries to catch her up, and then it’s just the pair of them, naked, gently flushed and chilled by the cool air.
Blake’s gaze falls down her body and does not hurry to recover.
“Come here,” she tells her, voice thick and low in a way that threatens to take Riley out at the knees.
When she’s close enough, Blake slides her hands around to her ass and kisses her. Riley moans against her mouth and leans closer until there’s not a breath of space between them, and then she’s warm. Then she’s burning. She slides her hands along Blake’s pale skin, mapping the subtle definition of her ribs, the muscle in her arms, greedy for every tattooed inch of her. Between them, the toy pokes uncomfortably against Riley’s thigh, until she reaches down to readjust it. Blake pulls away from her kiss and tilts her head to better see the way that Riley’s fist automatically picks up a slow, pumping motion along the length of it.
“There’s lube in my jacket pocket,” Blake tells her, distracted.
“I’ll get it.”
But when she attempts to move, Blake’s hands keep her firm in place.
“No,” she says, and drags her gaze up to see the confusion in Riley’s face. “Get on your knees.”
For a second, Riley thinks she’s misheard her.
Mostly, because the blood rushes past her ears so quickly, suddenly, that it overwhelms all other sound coming from the room. Riley shivers and feels a terrible heat between her legs. She is doe-eyed and slack jawed in the face of Blake’s unwavering gaze, and she cannot help it. A part of her wants to hesitate for longer, wants to see what Blake might do if she just doesn’t react, but even as the thought crosses her mind, Riley wobbles with barely restrained anticipation as she lowers herself to her knees.
She settles on the hardwood flooring, head tipped back, expression receptive.
Blake’s breath shuddering past her lips is the only indication that she’s affected. From this angle, her jaw is a hard line, her dark eyes impenetrable and distant. Riley slides her hands around the backs of her knees, tilting her head to one side, and blinks up at her as though she needs instruction on what to do next.
Blake tilts her chin up, once.
“Suck it.”
Riley does not try to mask her smile.
Pressing up as tall as she can while on her knees, she drags her blunted nails up the backs of Blake’s thighs until she shivers, and parts her lips. Riley does not break her gaze as she finds the toy, at first just the very tip of its silicone head, which she presses with a lazy kiss. Above her, Blake swallows and subtly shifts her hips forward, as though she means to push the toy inside, but Riley eases backwards so that it misses her, and laughs at the look of irritation that crosses Blake’s face.
“Relax,” she tells her, nudging the toy with her nose. “I got this.”
“You’re so fucking annoying,” Blake sighs, and cards a gentle hand through her hair.
She does not move beyond planting her feet at shoulder-width apart, as though to ground herself, and so Riley rewards her with messy, open-mouthed kisses along the length of the toy’s shaft. It is the same slender, black dildo that she’d used on Blake herself, all those nights ago; not intimidating, but just enough that she has to press her thighs together in aching anticipation of feeling it inside of her.
Blake releases a quiet breath as she watches.
There is a strain in her jaw, but her gaze is fixed and unmoving, burning through Riley like something fresh from a pyre as she works her way over the full length of the toy. When she gets too close to the base of it, to the smell of musk and sex that makes her salivate afresh, Blake sucks in a breath and her fingers grow tight around her hair.
Riley moans, not quietly, and drags her tongue along the underside of the shaft as she returns to the tip, only to immediately take it into her mouth. Blake’s moan chokes out of her. With both hands around her thighs, Riley can feel the line of tension in the muscles there, the way that Blake holds herself back from thrusting forward—just like she’s been asked. It makes her dizzy, and so grateful that Riley takes another inch inside her mouth.
“Fuck.” Blake sighs, a glassy sheen to her eyes. “I wish I could feel you.”
Riley hums around her in equal agreement, and Blake’s fingers briefly tense in her hair as the phantom sensation buzzes through her. Amused, Riley relaxes her jaw and eases the toy out just to the tip, which she lathes generously with her tongue before taking it inside again. She picks up a gentle bobbing motion, inching the toy gradually further, until she catches the back of her throat and a fresh sting of moisture wells in her eyes.
Noticing, Blake attempts to ease herself backwards, but Riley only moans around her and continues. It turns Blake slack-jawed above her, finally dismantling the impression of control that she has over the situation. She is transfixed, barely breathing, as she watches Riley work her mouth over the toy.
Finally, Riley eases it completely out of her mouth, swallowing the excess saliva from the tip.
She gasps when she parts from it, her wet, brown eyes blinking up at Blake from the floor, and then she grins with all her teeth.
“You look like you’ve never had a girl suck your dick before,” she teases, and sinks her face between the very apex of Blake’s thighs, where she wets open-mouthed kisses along the straps of her harness. Blake groans somewhere above her, but Riley’s eyes are closed, her heartrate spiking, lost to the taste of salt and sweat against Blake’s skin. She avoids Blake’s pussy, but this close she can smell her arousal and it makes her moan and clench her thighs together.
Riley isn’t sure how long she gets away with it, before the fingers in her hair finally tighten just past the point of comfort, and drag her backwards away from between Blake’s legs.
Blake stares down at her, lips parted, looking flushed and only mildly infuriated at her loss of control.
Riley bares her teeth at her, grinning.
“Get up,” Blake says, loosening the grip on her hair.
She takes a shaky step backwards, turning to the bed, and Riley almost off-balances without her support. She catches herself before she can falter, but her legs feel weak beneath her when she stands. Blake’s back is to her, her expression hidden, as she reaches for her jacket. Her fingers fumble at the pockets before she finally pulls free the aforementioned bottle of lube.
Riley presses close to her from behind, hands at her hips, and sinks a kiss into her shoulder.
“Don’t be sore,” she mutters against her skin, but when Blake turns around, she’s smiling.
“I’ll remind you of those words, later,” she says, and Riley squeals when, in one quick move, Blake wraps her arms around her and tosses her onto the bed. She is still laughing when she lands, but Blake is quick to follow her, crawling between her legs until the toy brushes against her thighs and makes her gasp. “Comfortable?”
“Yes,” Riley nods, breathless, and Blake smiles when she kisses her.
She’s warm, and doing very little to keep the full weight of her body off her, but Riley likes it. She hooks her legs around Blake’s hips and locks them there, like she might just be able to trap her. When Blake parts from her on one lingering, lazy kiss, and blinks her eyes open only to look down at her with a smile that verges on smitten, Riley thinks she’d let her.
Arching her chin up, she silently begs her for another kiss, and Blake indulges.
She can be so generous, when she wants to be.
It’s one of Riley’s favourite things about her.
That, and the snarl and spike of her. The way Riley can be herself around her without fear of showing her something too ugly, because Blake’s seen it all, first hand, several weeks before. Sometimes, she catches herself wondering what they could have been, if they had met organically outside of the pressure cooker that is BOTB. Likely, nothing more would have come from it. They both take their careers too seriously to have allowed this to develop into anything like it has, if they weren’t forced to see each other every day.
Sensing her distraction, Blake rolls her hips between Riley’s legs and makes her gasp as she’s dragged back into the moment.
Their lips audibly part as Blake pushes herself up onto her elbows.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she asks, nudging their noses together, and pecks her lips.
Riley tilts her face up for another kiss, sighing when Blake takes the hint.
“Nowhere,” she whispers. “I’m right here.”
“Good.” Blake grins down at her. “Stay with me.”
Then, she’s pushing herself up, away.
Cool air swarms in at Riley’s chest, pebbling her nipples, as Blake sits back on her heels and finds the bottle of lube that she’d brought to bed with them. She wets her lips in anticipation as she pops off the cap, and steels a brief glance down at where Riley is lying, flushed, as she pools a generous amount of lube into her waiting palm.
“I don’t even think you’ll need that,” Riley comments, too aware of her own arousal, but Blake still works her hands over the toy.
“I may be a raging bitch, but I don’t actually want to hurt you,” she says dryly, then smirks at Riley. “Not unintentionally, anyway.”
Snorting laughter bubbles up from Riley’s chest.
“And they say romance is dead.”
“Not while I’m around,” Blake winks, and tosses the bottle aside.
Riley’s chest tightens with excitement. She plants her feet against the bed, legs parted, and tips her chin up towards Blake as though to tell her, come here. Blake shuffles closer on her knees, one hand around the base of the toy, that she can lower the very tip of it down over Riley, dragging it through the arousal at her entrance and up over her clit.
This is payback for last time, Riley assumes, but fuck if she’s not enjoying it.
She drags her palms up over her own ribs until she grasps her breasts, while Blake rubs the toy against her. That distant, distracted look from before threatens to completely overtake Blake’s expression as she watches, but Riley takes pity on her—and on herself. Scraping her teeth over her bottom lip, she squeezes her own breasts and tips her hips up against the toy.
“Go ahead,” she tells Blake. “I’m all yours.”
Blake does not immediately acquiesce, but drags her lazy gaze over Riley’s body until she finally lowers herself over her. The hand around the toy guides it lower, down towards Riley’s entrance, while Blake holds herself above her just out of reach, better to see the different shades of brown within her irises.
“I like the sound of that,” Blake muses. “Say it again.”
Riley’s gaze moves from one eye to the other, a slow smile turning at her lips.
“I said, I’m all y—ah—oh!”
And Blake is inside of her.
Hips flush.
Buried to the hilt.
When Riley catches her breath, she moans and wraps her legs around Blake’s hips, immediately matching her rhythm. Blake’s stupid smile is all she can focus on, until her thrusting picks up and Riley has to push a hand through long strands of black hair to keep them from falling in her face.
“You’re so not funny,” she gasps as Blake rocks into her, and Blake laughs and kisses her chin.
“Shut up, I’m hilarious.”
Riley surges up to kiss her, if just to shut her up, and it works well enough to drag Blake back down over her. Riley maps the tensing, shifting muscles in her back with her fingers, then drags them over Blake’s shoulders, down her arms, bracelets her wrists. Getting an idea, Blake shifts her body weight onto her elbows and finds Riley’s hands, threading their fingers together as she pins them against the mattress.
And that’s good.
It’s nice, being this close to her, feeling Blake’s body on top her hers, the generous press of her breasts, the matching rhythm of their hips. There is no rush in their movements, in the kiss, as if climax isn’t the end goal but an unintended, not unwanted, afterthought to their closeness.
It’s so nice, that a bubble of emotion wells up into Riley’s throat, threatening to choke her until she swallows it back down again. The sensation makes her gasp and part from the kiss, and for one horrified moment Riley thinks Blake has noticed—she peers down at her, her thrusting unchanging, as if she can read the new flush in Riley’s cheeks.
“Harder,” Riley says to distract her, and Blake grins and releases her hands.
The toy shifts inside of Riley as Blake lifts herself back up onto her heels, and her legs fall back to the bed with a groan as this new angle stretches differently. Blake’s hands grip her around the hips as she finds a new rhythm, holding her body in place as she fucks the toy into her with more power behind her thrusts.
Almost immediately, Riley’s heels begin to burn with the threat of her climax.
This new angle hits just right on that sensitive, needy patch of nerves inside of her, making her head tip back into the mattress and her hands grasp at the sheets for purchase. The pleasure is almost numbing, is white-hot in the strain of her muscles, but the toy is just imprecise enough that Riley already knows that it won’t get her off. Not like this. A long, whining noise escapes her, and it’s like Blake knows, for her thrusting picks up speed until fresh tears spike in the corners of Riley’s eyes.
Finally, her body convulses, just close enough to orgasm that it becomes so abundantly, devastatingly clear that she will not come like this.
Riley bites into her cheek until she cries.
“Wait,” she gasps, and Blake’s hips stutter as they pause above her. For a second, an expression of uncertainty crosses her face, until Riley drags her back down over her by her arms. “Like this,” she whispers, tucking herself close again, wrapping her legs around Blake’s hips and not caring that Blake is so close, now, that she can’t possibly hide the torment on her face from her. “Stay close like this.”
Blake’s gaze moves around her face before she begins to move again, slower than before, like she’s waiting to be told to stop.
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” Riley nods, and sighs in relief as she relaxes back into the bed, Blake warm and far too close above her.
If she sees the truth in Riley’s expression, Blake does not challenge it.
She moves above her in long, languid strokes, rolling her hips into Riley’s. When Riley has relaxed enough, Blake closes her eyes and kisses her, and that’s how they stay for the night—or so it feels like. Riley could. Fuck her early start, fuck the competition. She knows that she only feels like this because Blake is with her, inside of her, filling her. She knows clarity will return to her as soon as she orgasms, but in the moment, she can’t bring herself to care about it, about anything else at all.
All she wants right now is Blake, and she doesn’t want to overthink it.
Their lazy kissing is finally interrupted by Blake, who moans against her lips before she pulls away. Her thrusting picks up steadily, not hard and fast like before, but with enough intent that Riley quickly realises that she’s getting close to climax. Her own arousal spikes with the acknowledgement, and she rolls her hips up into Blake to better encourage her to take what she needs.
The space between them fills with the exchange of their mingled breaths, with heavy-lidded gazes, until Blake shies away from it and tucks her face into the crook of Riley’s neck. Instinctively, Riley bares it for her. She offers herself up for the taking, and is not disappointed when Blake drags lazy, open-mouthed kisses against her skin.
Quiet, muffled noises begin to emanate from the space where Blake hides her face, steadily growing in volume and frequency as she rocks her hips against Riley’s. She stutters to find a better rhythm, groans impatience into Riley’s skin, and then attempts to chase her climax by picking up her speed.
Riley feels her body, tense, above her.
Hard lines and straining muscle.
Finally, Blake grunts, frustrated, and ruts her hips up into her until Riley is clenching around the toy. But there is no relief for Blake. Riley realises too late, when one large, hard thrust drives into her, causing her to gasp on just the wrong side of pleasure. Riley’s body jolts at the sudden twinge of discomfort, not enough to really hurt, and she clutches at Blake’s shoulders.
“Easy, baby.”
Blake stops moving.
She lifts her head above Riley and looks like she has just realised what she’s done, and is immediately sorry for it.
Riley shakes her head.
“You’re good,” she promises, and pushes soft, black hair back over Blake’s shoulder.
When Blake still doesn’t look convinced, an uncertain frown on her face, Riley cups a hand around the back of her neck and urges her down, close enough that she can kiss her. Blake lets her. There is something hesitant about the way she kisses her back, and Riley nips at her bottom lip with her teeth until she groans. The distraction works, for the most part, and while Riley deepens the kiss, Blake presses her down into the mattress to take control of it.
Better.
Still, Blake has stopped moving inside of her, and as much as Riley enjoys the closeness, she cannot forget those needy, desperate whimpers that Blake was making against her throat when she was so close to coming. Riley wants her back there. Gasping. Crying. Thrusting into her with abandon.
Parting from the kiss, she presses on Blake’s shoulders and tells her, “Move over a second.”
For a fleeting moment, Blake just looks at her, confused. Then she begins to move carefully onto her side, that the toy will ease out of Riley gently. Ruining the attempt completely, Riley chases her with her body, pushing on Blake’s shoulders until she’s lying on her back. Riley lands on top of her, straddling her hips, and gravity does the rest. The toy buries itself inside of her as deep as it will go. While Blake shakes her surprise, Riley tests the new angle with a few gentle thrusts.
When she catches Blake’s gaze, Riley smiles.
“Good?”
Blake nods her head, heavy-lidded. “Yeah.”
“Good.”
Riley beams down at her with all her teeth, so pleased that Blake groans at the sight, and then picks up the pace of her rolling hips. And that’s better. Even if the toy is doing nothing for Blake, Riley’s body on top of her is. Their hips press flush together where they meet, skin on skin at just the right angle that, before long, Blake is rocking her hips up to meet her every thrust.
“Here,” Riley says, taking Blake’s hands which had come to rest on her thighs and bringing them to her hips. “Touch me.”
Blake does not require further instruction.
At first, her grip firms around Riley’s hips, and she uses her leverage there to set the pace of their rocking hips. Riley falls into it with ease, a little bit too eager to please, and then Blake’s hands slide around to palm her ass. Her touch is generous, teasing, one hand creeping up to cup her breast, until Riley is making quiet, mewling noises on every exhale. Her hips stutter out of rhythm. With a whimper, she cover’s Blake’s hand with her own and removes it from her breast, knotting their fingers together.
Below her, husky laughter catches in Blake’s throat.
Riley throws her a dirty look, but that just excites her.
Fine.
Setting her jaw, Riley presses her free hand flat against Blake’s abs and picks up her speed. The mattress barely absorbs the sound of their bodies, the ring of skin hitting skin hanging alongside the smell of sex in the air. This new pace has her own impending arousal burning up into her muscles, but she ignores it, forsakes it, in favour of the mounting devastation that overtakes Blake’s expression.
“Like that,” Blake hisses, white-knuckle grasping at her hip.
Riley draws her bottom lip between her teeth to contain a moan.
“Like that?” she mimics, teasing.
She is helpless to do anything but watch as Blake’s head tips back against the mattress, eyes closed, a gasping yes barely out of her mouth before her hips buck up beneath her. And then she’s shaking, her legs bending, curling up until her thighs are flush with Riley’s back. Riley eases her through her orgasm with a gentle rolling of her hips until Blake releases a startled, half-muffled cry and falls heavily against the bed.
“Fuck,” Blake breathes, and hangs an arm over her face.
The room falls quiet around them, peaceful.
Riley settles back against Blake’s bent knees, flushed in the cheeks and far too satisfied, that when Blake finally uncovers her face and looks up at her, she groans. Riley laughs quietly and splays her palms over Blake’s stomach. Her skin is warm and dewy with perspiration, that Riley has the sudden urge to drag her tongue over it. Blake’s hands at her thighs stop her, the feather-light roaming of her fingertips as she recovers from her high.
She looks satiated in that freshly fucked kind of way, and it suits her.
Riley smiles as their gazes meet.
“I think you needed that.”
Blake blows out a heavy breath. “I think so, too.”
Easy, Riley thinks. It’s so easy between them, in these few and fragile moments of post-coital clarity, before Blake can recover her snark (before the truth of what they’re doing can terrify Riley into making everything one big joke). Beneath her, Blake tilts her head to one side and flexes the legs that Riley is using as a backrest.
“Oh, and you’re completely unaffected, right?” she drawls, a mixture of amused and unimpressed.
“What?” Riley scoffs. “I’m peachy.”
“You’re a dirty fucking liar,” Blake tells her, without heat, and pinches at her waist until she cries and jerks her hips. Blake immediately tenses beneath her, overstimulated, and Riley laughs again. Glaring up at her, Blake curls her hands around her hips. “I can feel how wet you are.”
Riley tips her chin up, challenging.
“Then why aren’t you doing anything about it?”
For a second, silence.
Then Blake arches an eyebrow up at her and Riley half expects her to call her out for her goading, and how it’ll take a lot more than that to get Blake to give in to her. Instead, Blake just looks interested. She drags her hands down to Riley’s thighs, palming them generously, before she trails her fingers towards the triangle of curls between her legs.
Riley holds her breath as Blake lays her palm flat against her, then slides her thumb down towards her clit.
At once, she’s reminded of her own arousal, of the fact that Blake has been inside of her now for god knows how long, and she hasn’t even come yet. She feels herself clench around the toy still buried to the hilt, and sighs. Blake’s thumb, while firm against her clit, does not offer further reprieve. Riley frowns down at her, almost accusatory, until it makes her smirk.
“What?” Blake asks her, tone sharp. “You know what you want, don’t expect me to do all the work for you.”
Perfect—she’d be so fucking perfect, if she didn’t open her mouth.
Groaning, Riley gives a few testing rolls of her hips. Blake follows the movement expertly, applying pressure to her clit, and she’s not nearly as mean about it as Riley was expecting. But then she catches the look on Blake’s face—that dazed, enthralled expression of parted lips and heavy eyes—and wonders why her first instinct was to expect cruelty. Blake is looking at her like she’s something bright and burning, that it reminds Riley suddenly of the stage.
Well.
If it’s a performance that she wants.
Sighing, Riley pushes a hand through her own hair and picks up a steady rocking motion with her hips, arching her spine in a way that perfectly accentuates her breasts. The toy feels good inside of her. Blake’s touch against her clit, even better. She tips her head back and lets herself enjoy it, eyes closed, face to the ceiling. She can feel Blake’s gaze on her, and it feels good. It feels right.
She would be content with this lazy rhythm, too, but Blake grows impatient.
Her thumb against Riley’s clit picks up in pace, beginning to circle it in gradually quicker movements, that it encourages Riley to match her pace with the rocking of her hips. She tips her head back down, catching Blake in her dizzy gaze, and seeks out Blake’s free hand with one of her own. Their fingers interlock as though they’ve practiced for this moment, and Riley does not try to quiet the moans that leave her mouth as she rocks herself to climax.
It is burning through her, hot in her heels, climbing up her calves.
Below her, Blake is flushed pink and staring, her dark eyes compelling Riley not to look away.
Riley lets herself fall into them.
She lets go of her reserve, of the last frayed edges of her self-restraint, that warning voice inside of her that has grown in volume throughout this entire competition, telling her not to get too close. Not to trust her. Not to lose sight of why she’s here. And it’s easy. It’s so easy, when Blake is touching her, when Blake is looking at her like she’ll do anything to keep her in her grasp.
Riley’s orgasm surprises her, that she gasps when it crests.
Her spine straightens and the muscles in her hips convulse and lose their rhythm, as Riley clenches down hard around the toy. A noise like something being torn out of her breaks the quiet, and then she’s falling—inexplicably, she’s laughing—down into the warmth of Blake’s chest, where a pair of arms immediately catch her, pull her close.
Riley buries her face into Blake’s shoulder and shivers as the last waves of her orgasm wash over her, muscles shaking as the last of her pleasure is rinsed out of her body. Then she falls still, boneless, with Blake’s arms wrapped around her and her hair in her mouth.
Groaning, Blake stretches her legs down the bed and repositions her body for comfort. She does not try to move Riley from her chest, and so Riley lets herself linger. Eventually, and with effort, she uncovers her face just enough to pull a dark strand of lovingly conditioned black hair away from the corner of her lips.
“You’re drooling,” Blake tells her, and Riley sighs and wipes her mouth before lowering her head again.
Her body is tired and aching in a way that feels more satisfied than sore. She is no longer clenching down around the toy still buried inside of her, that it feels… nice to keep it close, as an extension of Blake’s body. While her limbs feel weighted and sluggish, Riley’s mind is quickly waking. Her thoughts touch on the latest challenge, on the ever-present knowledge that she needs to be doing more, but Riley quickly shoves that familiar anxiety away.
Not yet.
Not here, when Blake’s body is warm beneath her.
Not when she is this dangerously close to asking herself if it’s all still worth it, if she won’t be allowed to explore this thing with Blake further, once it’s done.
Stirring, Blake sniffs and runs a hand along her spine.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks, and Riley blinks.
“Why?”
Blake hums quietly. “Your heart just went crazy.”
Oh.
Her heartrate spikes again with the realisation, and Riley pushes herself up onto her elbows to put a little space between them, but that only brings them face to face. There is no hiding from Blake, here, she realises. Riley wonders if she even really wants to, or if the instinct is so strong within her that it’s become something of a reflex, just waiting to flare up every time somebody gets too close.
Blake’s dark eyes roam her face and Riley can do nothing to stop her, especially not force herself to look away.
She wonders what Blake sees that ultimately makes her scoff and roll her eyes, before she pulls the whole world out from underneath her by rolling Riley over onto her back. Her body lands in the mattress, the toy twisting deliciously inside of her that Riley cannot help but moan as Blake lands on top of her, crowding in close. The noise only makes her grin.
Puffing out a breath, Riley snakes one hand free to push dark hair back over Blake’s shoulder, uncovering her face.
As she does, Blake’s smug expression softens into something that laces, tender to the point of smarting, right through the soft of Riley’s belly.
“Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you are?”
The words trip out of Blake like she hadn’t meant to say them, and she frowns but does not take them back.
Heat curls in Riley’s chest.
She opens her mouth and grasps around herself for her best flirtatious line, something to tease Blake with, something to poke the very bear of her until it makes her bite her back.
Instead, she blushes.
Blake’s face creases with delight as she watches it happen, a girlish laugh trilling up from her chest, and when Riley tries to look away Blake only cups a hand against her cheek to prevent her. There is no hiding, she remembers, not from Blake’s laughter that sounds more charmed than mocking, not from her dark eyes and the way she cannot tear her gaze away from her. Not from Blake’s mouth, when she kisses her, warm in a way that reminds Riley of the toy still buried inside of her, tender in a way that threatens to reopen some old wounds.
Beneath her, at her mercy, Riley closes her eyes and gives herself over to it.
She’ll live, she decides, though maybe just about.