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“What are you drinking?”
Beca looks up from her nearly empty glass at the voice to her right. She tries not to let her reaction be too obvious because the woman who’s taken the stool next to her at the bar is devastatingly gorgeous: blue eyes, red hair, and a little black dress Beca would be as happy to strip off her to own it herself as she would be to see what it’s concealing. She could continue her plan for the night which is to lament her loneliness and drown it in booze before crawling back to her room in the hotel next door...or she could entertain this unexpected encounter.
“Whiskey,” she answers after a few seconds. She sits up from her slouch and watches as the newcomer orders another drink for her as well as one for herself.
“So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing drinking alone on a Friday night?”
Beca snorts at the compliment. “I need a reason?”
“There must be one.” The woman next to her turns on her seat to face her and Beca tries not to get lost in her unfairly blue eyes. “I can’t imagine someone would let you out of their sight for too long.”
“You make it sound like I’m someone’s property.”
“I don’t mean to,” she says quickly, eyes apologetic. “I just know that if we were together, you’d have something much better to be doing tonight.”
Beca lifts her eyebrows. The girl is bold. “And what would that be?” she asks as the bartender sets two glasses in front of them. They pick them up and Beca lifts hers in a quick cheers.
“Me,” the woman answers before drinking with Beca.
Beca nearly chokes as she swallows. “Anyone ever told you you’re incredibly forward?”
The girl shrugs. “Once or twice. I’m Chloe, by the way,” she says, extending her hand.
“Beca,” she replies, taking Chloe’s hand and bringing it up to kiss the back of it rather than shaking it.
“Ooh, suave,” Chloe says as she lets her kissed hand fall to rest quite obviously on Beca’s knee. “So, tell me about yourself, Beca. What do you do?”
Beca turns toward her slightly so as to not have to crane her neck so much and notes that the hand remains on her knee. “I work in music.”
Chloe’s eyes light up. “Really? Anything I’d know?”
“Probably.” Beca takes another sip of liquor and watches the excitement light up her guest’s face.
“Really? Are you famous?” She can see Chloe searching her memory. “The only Beca I’ve heard of in the music industry is the Beca Mitchell who produced Panic!’s new album. She’s featured on one of their singles, too.”
“At your service, ma’am,” Beca says as she reaches into the interior breast pocket of the leather jacket she’s wearing to toss a business card onto the bar between them. She had rejected the concept of having business cards a few years ago until she realized the power they could wield in moments such as this. Hers are simple but stately. A matte black soft-touch finish with a UV spot coat of her name, phone number, and email address in a thin sans-serif font. Also black. It shines nicely in the dark rooms she’s often working in.
She watches Chloe pick up the card while she takes another drink.
“Shut up,” Chloe says in awe as she reads it and then stares at Beca. “I saw them on tour two weeks ago. Were you there?”
“I don’t travel with my artists.”
“Oh, okay. Good.” Chloe slides Beca’s business card into her handbag.
Beca’s intrigued. Or offended? “Good?”
“Yeah. I didn’t want to find out I had the chance to meet you and failed.”
Beca thinks she might be blushing, or it might be the alcohol, but her face is warm. “For what it’s worth, I’d be just as disappointed.”
She’s not always the smoothest of talkers but sometimes she can land a gem or two and that one seems to work as her uninvited drinking partner bites her lip and looks away like she’s suddenly bashful. Or maybe flattered. Beca can see her gathering herself and takes pride in the fact that she was able to rattle her a bit.
“Now I’m even more confused why you’re here alone,” Chloe says once she can meet Beca’s eyes again.
Beca smiles. “What do you mean?”
“You must have people lined up waiting to take you out.”
“Do I?” she laughs.
“Oh, don’t even,” Chloe says with an answering laugh as she lifts her hand from Beca’s knee to shove playfully at her shoulder. “There’s no way there aren’t people clamoring over one another just to spend a night with you.”
Beca smirks at that. “Think so?”
“I know so.”
Beca just raises her eyebrows again in question.
Chloe leans in to speak warmly in her ear, “Because I’m one of them,” as her hand lands on Beca’s leg again, this time much higher on her thigh.
Beca has to struggle not to shiver. “I’m getting on a plane in the morning.”
“And?”
“Pretty sure we’ll never see each other again.”
“Then I definitely think we should at least make out.” Chloe’s so close when she makes the suggestion that her lips are almost on Beca’s cheek. She’s not even sure if Chloe’s actually still sitting on her stool or if she’s standing because of how close they’ve become.
“I’m staying at the hotel next door.”
“Is that an invitation?” Chloe’s hand slides dangerously higher up her thigh and Beca has to try hard to not whimper from it.
Beca swallows and holds back from kissing her right there in the bar. “Top floor. Room 1334.”
“Perfect.” Lips graze her cheek before Chloe steps away from her and heads further into the bar. “I’ll see you soon.”
Beca watches, body humming, as Chloe disappears into the restroom at the back of the bar. She hurriedly pulls a $100 bill from her wallet to drop it on the counter and slides onto unsteady legs to make a beeline for the exit.
Her room is a disaster right now; there’s no reason to keep a hotel room tidy when she’s going to shove everything into her suitcases after a couple of nights and she wants to at least make it presentable. She rushes back to her hotel and to her top-floor penthouse to throw her jacket onto the couch and kick her combat boots into the closet before doing a clean sweep. She gathers scattered clothes and shoves them into drawers and then stacks suitcases into the closet on top of her boots followed by a clean-up of her bathroom. Toiletries get swept into drawers and she makes sure the fresh bar of hand soap from the afternoon’s housekeeping is unwrapped.
Silly, she knows, but she doesn’t want to seem like a heathen.
She’s finishing touching up her makeup when there’s a knock on her door. It makes her heart race; despite the stereotypes that exist in the music industry—the wild nights, the drug and alcohol benders, the sex—Beca rarely partakes in any of them. She likes quiet and doesn’t like most people.
But she does like to indulge from time to time.
Particularly when a hot woman basically crawls into her lap at a bar.
She unbuttons the top three buttons of her crimson-colored sleeveless blouse as she walks to the door, making sure her cleavage peeks out just the right amount.
She takes one last moment for a deep breath before opening the door.
She thought she was prepared, that she knew what she’d find on the other side of the door, and that her own smokey eyes, tousled hair, and open blouse would be enough armor.
But she was wrong.
So wrong.
“Are you still at my service?” Chloe asks as she drops the belt of the black trench coat she’s wearing and though she doesn’t open it, it parts enough on its own to show Beca that the only thing Chloe is wearing under it is a set of black lingerie: bra, panties, garter belt, and stockings.
Beca has to swallow in order to speak. “Depends on what you need from me,” she says as she steps back to allow Chloe to enter her suite. She grabs the Do Not Disturb sign from the door handle and hooks it on the hall-facing side before closing and deadbolting it.
“I’m pretty sure you have everything I need.”
When Beca turns around, Chloe’s coat and purse are on the couch with Beca’s and she’s walking backward slowly toward the unmade king-sized bed.
“Fuck,” Beca breathes because labeling Chloe as “sexy” is a genuine understatement. She’s hit the proverbial jackpot tonight and she knows it.
Chloe stops when she’s at the foot of Beca’s bed and there’s an absurd distance between them because Beca’s forgotten how to move. That is, until Chloe crooks her finger in her direction. “Come here.”
She gets her feet working and crosses the sitting room to get to her and as soon as she’s close enough, Chloe’s fingers curl into the open collar of Beca’s shirt and pull her in, but she doesn’t kiss her. “What?” Beca asks, heart pounding in her ears. She’s already so turned on and nothing’s happened yet.
“I forgot to tell you how much I love your voice. I listen to that song all the time.”
It’s not quite what Beca expected her to say. “Thank you?”
“Makes me want to know what you’ll sound like when you come.”
Beca thinks she might whimper or whine or make some kind of pathetic sound but she doesn’t have time to figure it out because Chloe finally kisses her.
Beca reaches for her, eager to get her hands on the skin that’s on display for her, and grabs her waist to pull them close as they kiss. Chloe’s mouth is hot against hers, confident in the way she works to claim Beca, to assert a level of control Beca hadn’t been anticipating giving up tonight but is finding herself more than ready to surrender it.
She feels Chloe unbuttoning her shirt and slides her hands down to grasp the soft curves of Chloe’s ass. She can feel the lace and the garters and she moans when Chloe flips Beca’s shirt over her shoulders, though it can’t be removed unless Beca removes her hands, which she doesn’t.
Hands are on her waist and she feels a tug on the button on her black jeans. Things are moving much more quickly than she had expected, but then again, Chloe had shown up at her door already undressed for something they’d both agreed on. There was no need to be tentative. They were both here for a reason.
The things Chloe’s doing to her tongue with her own are making her dizzy. She needs a chance to catch her breath and she finally gets one when Chloe abruptly breaks away. She doesn’t have time to ask what’s happening because Chloe’s pulling her shirt off and then stepping behind Beca to push her forward, face-first onto the bed.
“Shit,” Beca says as she gets herself up onto her forearms as Chloe tugs Beca’s jeans down to her knees and then off. She’s not sure she’s ever been stripped so quickly before; it’s impressive, really.
She feels Chloe’s hands on her ass, palming it and Beca hates that she’s still wearing underwear. She wants to feel skin-on-skin, but she also knows it’s only a matter of time.
Chloe leans over her and she feels lips in the center of her back a moment later. Hands press into the bed on either side of her and Beca drops her head, content to let Chloe do as she likes, and what she likes is kissing a slow line along Beca’s spine until she’s pushing her hair aside to run her tongue up the side of Beca’s neck to tug on the shell of her ear.
Beca’s hands fist in the bedding and her hips press into the mattress. She’s already getting desperate for relief and she has a feeling she’s in for a long night. She can feel Chloe over her, the warmth from her body against her back, and the slight brush of lace where her breasts graze her as she leans over Beca to slowly drive her crazy.
“God, what are you doing?” she whines and she no sooner says the words than she feels deft fingers unhook her bra. Hands quickly replace it, following the band around her ribs until they’re covering Beca’s breasts.
“What does it feel like?” Chloe whispers in her ear before teasing it with her tongue again. She has to fold herself over Beca and her pelvis pressing insistently against Beca’s ass is torturous. It’s worsened when her hips rock forward to push Beca’s against the bed.
“Teasing me,” she says with a gasping breath when fingers tug at her nipples.
Teeth press into Beca’s shoulder and she can’t stop the shiver that runs through her. “It’s called foreplay,” Chloe responds before she’s retreating. Her lips follow the same path they’d just followed but this time they’re traveling south, fingernails following in their wake to draw goosebumps to Beca’s skin. Her back arches more sharply the farther she goes until Chloe stops at the waistband of Beca’s underwear.
She hesitates so Beca tilts her hips to encourage her to do it.
She hears Chloe sigh as fingers slip under the elastic to slide them down Beca’s legs until she’s naked save for her bra that’s still on her arms but pushed askew by Chloe’s hands. She strips it off herself and tosses it aside, keeping her head down because not knowing what’s going to be done to her next is too tantalizing.
She gasps when teeth sink into the soft flesh of her ass. “Holy shit.” There’s a hand making its way up her leg from her ankle in a slow weaving pattern. Her legs part automatically when fingers start dragging up her inner thigh. She knows she’s panting and probably looks pitiful but she doesn’t care. Not when she can tell Chloe’s kneeling on the floor behind her. She can feel her body against her legs. Can feel her mouth moving over the curve of her ass until it’s kissing the back of her thigh.
“God, you’re so wet already.” Chloe’s voice is hot against her skin and all Beca can do is whimper. She knows she’s wet; she hasn’t been this turned on in a long time. There’s something so arousing about anonymous—or mostly anonymous—sex. There’s no shame. No worry of being judged for asking for something kinky or skipping the small talk.
She can feel Chloe behind her, feel her hands on her ass and the way her shoulders force her legs wider and she groans when Chloe’s tongue teases into her cunt.
Chloe moans, too. “You taste even better than I thought you would.” Her voice is low and Beca almost feels it more than she hears it, hot on her wet, throbbing flesh and her mouth is on Beca again as soon as she finishes speaking.
Beca tries not to move; all she wants to do is clench her thighs and thrust her hips into the bed but this angle isn’t right for it. She needs to stay open and still to let Chloe lick her from behind. She chokes out a, “Please,” but she’s not quite sure what she’s asking for. More. Harder. Faster. Don’t stop. Fuck me.
Chloe’s tongue is torturously slow. Beca imagines it must be what an ice cream cone feels like, melting and dripping in the hands of the person who’s unhurriedly eating it. Uncaring if she gets messy.
She knows the angle’s not quite right. That her positioning, still on her stomach where she landed when Chloe pushed her there, is hindering things. Her groan, though mostly one of pleasure, is laced with frustration.
And damn it, it makes Chloe stop. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m not complaining,” she prefaces, “but can we do this the normal way?”
“What’s the normal way?” There’s amusement in Chloe’s voice and despite her position and general physical state, it makes Beca smile, too.
“You know: me on my back; your face between my legs.” She starts to crawl further up the bed and half-expects Chloe to grab her ankles to stop her, but she doesn’t. She makes it all the way up to the pillows to flop eagerly onto her back.
However, she has some immediate regrets. Namely, she wasn’t prepared for her eyes to land on Chloe in lingerie standing at the foot of the bed noticeably stepping out of her stilettos, nor was she ready to see the belt from Chloe’s coat swinging thoughtfully from Chloe’s hand. She doesn’t know how she even has it; Beca hadn’t noticed it with her but maybe it was wrapped around her arm. Beca was way more focused on all the other parts of Chloe.
“What are you doing?” she asks though it’s pretty clear what Chloe’s intentions are.
Chloe’s smile is so sexual should be illegal. “If I only get you tonight, I want to make the most of it.”
“And that involves tying me up?” Beca hopes the look she’s giving Chloe doesn’t betray how badly she wants just that to happen. She wants to at least try to not look like the desperate wanton woman she feels like tonight.
“If you want it to.”
“I mean…” Beca shrugs, desperately trying to be nonchalant until Chloe’s teeth bite her bottom lip as though Beca’s moment of coolness is tantalizing. “Not too tight.”
She watches with rapt attention as her answer washes over Chloe. A quiet exhale as though she’d been holding her breath. A setting of her jaw.
And then she’s crawling. Up the bed on her hands and knees toward Beca until she’s moving over her. Until she’s leaning right down to bring their lips together in a slow, sensual kiss that has Beca sighing.
Beca reaches for her; she’s had precious little opportunity to touch her with how Chloe’s chosen to take control of the evening. But the second her hands land on Chloe’s back they’re being pinned above her head and Chloe’s still kissing her.
“Shit,” she says with a nervous laugh between kisses. “You were serious.”
She feels Chloe’s hands loosen where they’ve seized her wrists. “Only if you want to.”
The consideration (or lack thereof) she gives the possibility of backing out is embarrassingly small. “I want to.”
Chloe pulls back at that and Beca has a moment of fear that she’s going to stop, which is dumb given the fact she showed up in lingerie at her hotel room door. She pulls back so she can see what she’s doing as she wraps the belt around Beca’s wrists, weaving it between them first before cinching it and tying the loose ends.
The headboard is nothing but a solid wall of padded fabric and since she can’t tie Beca to anything, she’s making extra sure she can’t untie herself.
The sound that leaves Beca at the sensation, at the loss of control, is embarrassing.
“You like this, hmm?” Chloe asks. It’s a rhetorical question, Beca knows, but she nods anyway. She doesn’t know what happens next but she does know her body is throbbing and that it’s borderline cruel that she’s already had Chloe’s tongue between her legs and now it’s almost like they’re back to first base.
Well, a first base that has her naked and tied up in bed and stockings and garter belts straddling her hips.
“You’re so pretty,” Chloe says as she moves back. It almost makes Beca mad because she knows it means Chloe’s in no hurry. She sits back on her knees over Beca to look down at her as if admiring her handiwork. “I bet you hear that all the time.”
“Sometimes,” Beca answers after having to swallow. “Why are you still wearing clothes?”
Chloe’s hand moves to the left strap of her bra to lower it down her arm but does nothing further to undress. “This counts as clothing?”
“You’re not naked.”
“That’s true,” Chloe says with a nod. “But you are.” She says it so pointedly Beca knows something’s going to happen and what happens is that Chloe’s fingernails drag up Beca’s sides until hands are covering her breasts.
It makes Beca’s eyes fall closed and arch her back to try to get more of herself into Chloe’s hands. It’s painfully quiet in the room and her own heavy breaths echo in her ears. She’s not used to doing this without music; sex for her is always associated with music. It happens in dressing rooms and in bathrooms of bars and in hotel rooms and her own home, and there’s always music throbbing, drowning out how needy she’s always reduced to sounding.
Not tonight, though; she was too busy getting ready to remember to put something on but it’s only a minor regret because now not only can she hear herself, she can hear the soft hush of Chloe’s stockings against the sheets when she shifts backward. She can hear Chloe’s breath in her ear before she hears—and feels —her tongue and lips on her neck and ear.
It makes her crane her neck to offer it to Chloe. She can tell Chloe isn’t leaving marks but part of her wants her to; the encounter from the moment it began has Beca feeling dirty, raunchy even and her inhibitions are melting away the longer Chloe’s mouth is on her neck.
“Please fuck me,” she says with a gasp after Chloe’s tongue flickers beneath her ear.
“I will,” Chloe answers simply. She sounds so unbothered and if Beca wasn’t so busy being painfully aroused she’d be mad about it. She seems to be in no rush but she does move back as she says it.
Her mouth travels lower, too, and Beca tries to brace herself as it draws nearer to her left breast. She can feel Chloe moving, and the sharp pinch of fingers against her nipple that Beca knows makes it even harder than it already is. Chloe’s tongue follows, warm and wet as the tip of it brushes the peak of her breast.
Beca whimpers and presses her face against her bicep. She knows she could drop her arms and they’d land on Chloe’s back. She could find Chloe’s head and tangle her bound hands in her hair. She could, but she doesn’t. It’s too good to let herself submit and be at Chloe’s mercy.
Chloe’s still in no hurry. She seems to settle against Beca like she’s getting comfortable, as though she intends to spend a good bit of time right where she is, and Beca’s more than okay with that. The hand at her left breast is almost still as Chloe’s focus is on how she’s using her mouth on her right. Her tongue is light against it but sharp as it brushes back and forth across the tip. Just when Beca’s about to flinch from it being too much she uses her lips and Beca moans as Chloe sucks on it ever so lightly.
Beca’s not sure how much time passes. She knows her nipple is almost aching from attention and the relief that comes when Chloe lets up is short-lived because instead of moving down to touch Beca where she’s so desperately wanted, she shifts her attention to Beca’s other breast and starts the entire process over again.
“You’re going to kill me,” Beca grinds out when Chloe finally starts sucking again.
Chloe just hums in response and sucks harder.
“Please.” Beca’s aware of how dire she sounds but she doesn’t care. The sheets beneath her are already wet from the way her body is responding to Chloe. Her inner thighs are slick and there’s no way Chloe can’t feel it with how she’s resting against Beca. Her position has made it impossible for Beca to rock her hips up and try to grind against her, and she can’t close her legs to seek relief that way, either, so all Beca can do is lie there and take it.
She wants to take it all.
“You want me to fuck you, baby?” Chloe’s voice sounds like honey and sex.
Beca’s body almost seizes at the words, like it’s considering orgasming then and there but it doesn’t. “God, yes,” she pants.
“Want me to fuck you with my fingers?” Chloe’s moving lower; Beca can feel it and the cool air that fills the empty space between them against her wet flesh.
“Yeah.” Beca knows she’ll say yes to literally anything right now.
“Or my tongue?” The words are hot breath against Beca’s clit and her hips jerk on reflex. She still hasn’t opened her eyes but she doesn’t need to to know that Chloe’s face is between her legs.
“Fuck, yes,” she groans. “Oh, my God, yes,” she adds when Chloe’s tongue touches her clit just as fingers press inside her.
“You’re so wet for me.” Chloe sounds proud and Beca knows she has every reason to be. She has three fingers inside Beca and it’s barely stretching her. Her tongue starts licking at Beca’s clit and it’s all Beca can do to stop from coming immediately. She groans and bites her arm to stave it and after a few seconds of the sharp pain, it passes and she knows she can hold off for a while now.
She can hear Chloe’s fingers moving in and out of her; it’s a steady pace but not too fast, one that has Beca’s hips thrusting to meet her. She can hear Chloe’s irregular breaths as she licks her and how it pauses when her lips close around her clit to suck on it and make Beca want to leap off the bed. She can hear herself moaning, a nonstop desperate mess of noise that mixes with Chloe’s own sounds of pleasure that make Beca wonder if she’s touching herself or if she’s just enjoying what she’s doing that much. She can’t work out where Chloe’s other hand is; the one inside her is way too distracting and she doesn’t care enough to think about it.
“What are you doing to me?” she whines. It’s a legitimate question because she’s sure she’s never before been pushed this high without coming and she’s had her share of amazing sex. She doesn’t expect an answer right now, or ever. She meant it as a compliment but for some reason, it makes Chloe pull back.
Beca gasps as Chloe pulls out and her mouth leaves her. That finally makes her eyes snap open. “Why did you stop?!”
It’s the first she’s laid eyes on Chloe since things turned serious and she’s no longer immaculate in appearance. Locks of her hair are dark and wet where they got in her mouth’s way between Beca’s legs. Her lipstick is smeared almost to nothing and Beca knows that it’s probably all over her neck and breasts. Chloe’s lips glisten, though, as does her chin, with Beca’s arousal.
Chloe’s looking up at her with dark eyes as she sits up until she’s on her hands and knees again and crawling steadily higher. She starts to lean down when they’re face to face and Beca readies herself to kiss her in a way sure to convey her frustration but instead, Chloe sits up and keeps moving higher until Beca realizes what’s happening.
“You said you’re at my service.” Chloe says it so plainly it’s almost as though she’s not telling Beca to lick her through what Beca’s just discovered are not your standard black panties.
They’re just for show, to sell the outfit when she’s standing but now that she’s straddling Beca’s face, there’s almost nothing to them. Nothing covering her.
“Fuck,” Beca breathes before lifting her head to service Chloe.
“Just like that, baby,” Chloe says through a sigh as her knees slide further apart and she settles astride Beca’s face.
Maybe Beca likes being dominated and praised. So? Maybe it’s a nice change of pace from being the boss every day. It’s one thing to be told ‘yes’ all day by the people who work for her but it’s quite another to hear it from a beautiful woman sitting on her tongue. She knows there’s no judgment from anyone tonight, not when one of Chloe’s hands moves down to part herself so Beca, her own hands useless, has even more access to the clit she can see throbbing after each lick she gives it.
She’s being watched, too. Chloe’s eyes are on her—her tongue—as Beca starts to move more quickly.
“Slow, baby. Nice and slow,” Chloe coos and Beca instantly slows down. Chloe’s hips begin to set the pace and it’s torturously measured, as though Chloe has all the time and patience in the world. Beca thinks they kind of do; they have all night to fuck each other. And the morning, until it’s time to throw everything into suitcases and catch a flight back to New York.
So she settles into the pace, crossing her legs tightly to get a hint of relief as she works her tongue against Chloe at the pace Chloe dictates.
Beca doesn’t have words for how Chloe looks like this: the black sheer stockings and garters and the peekaboo panties and the matching bra that leaves very little to the imagination. All of it above her riding Beca’s tongue slow and steady while Chloe watches, moaning every few breaths.
“I want you to make me come now, baby,” Chloe says and Beca can hear the strain in her voice in its effort to sound unaffected. It’s hot to know she’s trying and failing to hide just how Beca’s making her feel and Beca makes it a point to take an extra-long lick through her at the request, teasing her entrance before moving back to her clit. “Can you do that for me?”
Beca almost laughs. She considers a smart reply but it fizzles in her brain at the whine in Chloe’s voice. So instead, she nods and lifts her head to close her lips around her clit to pull until Chloe sits even heavier against her. Beca wants her clit in her mouth, not above it, and she hears Chloe’s broken moan as soon as she starts sucking on it.
“So good,” Chloe moans, still parting herself but she’s beginning to forget to watch. Her eyelashes flutter until Beca watches them close and she sags forward to hold on to the headboard.
Beca hums and Chloe gasps at the vibration. It makes Beca want to smile but if she smiles she can’t suckle on Chloe’s clit. So she doesn’t. Instead, she sucks harder and draws smooth lines up and down with her tongue and groans when Chloe starts grinding against her.
It’s a slow grind, just as her pace has been all night, but it’s a deep one and she finally removes her hand from herself to tangle her fingers into Beca’s hair to pull her up.
All Beca can do is moan and lick and suck and try not to come as she watches Chloe take what she wants from Beca.
“Yes, baby,” Chloe moans, and her steady pace falters with a sudden jerk of her hips. “Fuck yes, baby, don’t stop.” She loses her rhythm completely when Beca sucks on her again and she slips into wild abandon instead of measured control.
It makes Beca groan because this woman is fucking her face as though her life depends on it and Beca’s never been so grateful to be of service to anyone.
“I’m gonna—I’m gonna—” is all Chloe gets out before she’s coming, loud moans and shuddering and wetness that Beca feels dripping down her chin and neck.
Beca moans with her and nearly comes, too. She tries to keep Chloe in her mouth but she’s unpredictable in her movements and Beca finally gives up and just gives her the flat of her tongue instead to let her grind it out on.
“So good,” Chloe finally says with a sigh once she’s still. She sits back so she’s on Beca’s chest and seems to appreciate the mess she’s made of Beca as she moves her thumb across Beca’s lips and chin only to bring it to her mouth to suck. “That was so good, baby, thank you.”
She’s not quite sure when they slipped into this BDSM-light situation—no, she knows it’s the second she agreed to Chloe tying her up—but Beca can’t help but smile. “You’re welcome.”
“What do you think: is it your turn now?” Chloe asks thoughtfully as she works her way backward.
“Not to be dramatic,” Beca says with a huff as she brings her arms down because her shoulders are beginning to ache and her hands are tingling, “but I hope to God the answer is ‘yes.’” She watches expectantly as Chloe moves down her once again and anticipates a kiss that doesn’t come.
Instead, Chloe sits atop her comfortably and even plays with Beca’s fingers. “Still okay?” she asks.
“I appreciate the check-in, but I seriously just need you to fuck me right now.”
Her comment lands with Chloe and Beca can see the surprise on her face that she quickly schools into seriousness. “I think that’s up to me.”
“Do I need to beg for mercy?” She smirks as she says it and watches the consideration and desire play out in Chloe’s eyes.
“You don’t need to, but you might want to.” Chloe moves off her without warning and Beca immediately misses her as she slides off the bed and, Beca watches in horror, leaves the room.
“Where are you going?” she half-shouts, trying not to sound too panicked. She’s still tied up and though she thinks she can free herself if she truly needed to, she’d rather not have to. There’s no response but also no door opening and closing so Chloe’s still in the hotel room, somewhere Beca can’t see from her vantage point. She starts to sit up, awkward with her wrists bound, when Chloe reappears.
“Just needed to fetch a little something,” Chloe says sweetly and it takes Beca a second to see what’s different.
What’s different is that amongst the black lace still adorning Chloe’s hips are now strips of black leather and an empty silver O-ring sitting against her pelvis.
Not to mention the fact that she’s holding two dildos, a small blue one and a somewhat larger purple one. Not scary big but...sizeable.
Beca thinks her eyes probably widen comically if the pleased look Chloe gives her is anything to go by. “You brought that with you?”
“You kind of seemed like you want someone to bend you over and fuck you.”
Beca just gapes.
“Did I read you wrong?”
She snaps her mouth closed with a jarring click of her teeth. She’d be ashamed and embarrassed that her apparent need to be railed was so obvious if the statement of fact was coming from anyone else.
“Didn’t think so,” Chloe says cooly. “So, what do we think: purple or blue?” She holds them up like she’s asking Beca to choose which new cute top she should pick. “I’m thinking purple,” Chloe answers without giving Beca a chance to string a sentence of even one word together. The rejected toy gets set aside on the nightstand and Beca watches, still half-sitting, as Chloe threads the other through the ring on the harness to fix it into place. “Well? Stand up.”
Beca’s legs don’t want to cooperate but Chloe doesn’t help her; she just watches as Beca twists and scoots until she’s off the bed and on her feet.
“Good girl.”
Beca tries not to react too pathetically at the praise and sets her jaw but a whimper escapes when the approval is accompanied by Chloe plucking a small translucent bottle out of her bra, which Beca hadn’t even noticed, fixated on everything happening below it, as it were.
“I know, I know.” Chloe says it like she’s responding to a pet begging for food while the food is being prepared. “Soon, baby.” She makes Beca watch as slick, clear liquid dribbles along the length of the toy before the bottle’s tucked into her bra again. She looks at Beca pointedly, then at the toy between them. “Well?”
Beca must stare dumbly for too long, both unsure of what Chloe’s wanting and being unable to think hard enough to figure it out because Chloe’s hand snares the belt around Beca’s wrists to yank her hands forward onto the dildo.
Oh.
Beca’s left hand wraps around it and slides, spreading the lube up its length and along the underside. She strokes it slowly and watches Chloe watching her hand, lip snared between her teeth until Chloe darts in to kiss her so suddenly that it makes Beca jump.
It’s an aggressive kiss and even though it’s not necessary to do because Beca hasn’t forgotten, she knows Chloe’s re-asserting her dominance. She can feel Chloe moving her hips to fuck Beca’s hand and it’s agonizing that she’s being made to wait.
Not that Chloe makes her wait long.
“Turn around,” Chloe says after breaking their kiss abruptly. She doesn’t give Beca much of a chance to react before her hands are on Beca’s waist to make her turn more quickly. And she doesn’t even say anything when one hand seizes Beca’s hip and the other runs up her back until it’s between her shoulders to fold her—very willingly—in half.
She probably moans. Or gasps. Or both. She’s not entirely sure because she’s too busy catching herself before she faceplants against the bed again. It tweaks her right wrist but she doesn’t notice that very much, either. Instead, what she notices is the wet, smeared handprint she leaves on the sheet from excess lube.
“Spread your legs, baby,” Chloe says behind her; her voice sounds like honey.
Beca does as she’s told and then drops onto her forearms. There’s no way she can support herself with her hands bound; she’s not sure she’ll be able to support herself at all, soon, for that matter.
“You look so good like this,” Chloe purrs and her hand connects rather suddenly with Beca’s ass. It’s not quite a spank, but it could have been. Instead, it squeezes—not gently—like she’s trying to make sure she has a good grip. “Bent over for me.”
All Beca can do is drop her head and wait.
The hand that pushed her down drags its nails down her back to make her shiver. It scratches past her waist and over the curve of her ass and the back of her thigh before it turns and, without nails, runs up along her inner thigh.
She feels Chloe’s finger catch her wetness and chokes back a moan. She doesn’t want to beg. She’s made it this long, and she knows the end is near.
“God, you’re dripping.” Beca feels Chloe’s hand inelegantly wipe itself on her ass before that hand grabs her, too. Chloe’s being rough and it’s not something Beca’s used to but it’s wrecking her and she knows it’s going to become something she asks for in future sexual encounters.
The cold slick of the toy slides against her heat without warning and she can’t help the moan that escapes her.
“Oh, you’re so ready for me, aren’t you,” Chloe says through a moan of her own. It’s rhetorical, but Beca can finally find a word in her vocabulary.
“Yeah.”
The toy retreats and Beca tries to chase it but Chloe’s grip is firm and limits her range of motion. Chloe, thankfully, doesn’t make her wait and it returns to slide against her again but this time, as it pulls back, Beca feels Chloe change its angle and with the next forward push of Chloe’s hips, it’s sliding into Beca with steady, firm pressure.
“Fuck,” Beca gasps. She has to hold her breath to survive it because her entire body kicks forward in a jolt of pleasure. It’s not an orgasm, but it’s close.
There is no moment of patience, a courtesy of allowing Beca to get used to the girth and she braces herself for the discomfort when Chloe immediately begins to withdraw and push forward again, only...there is no discomfort and—
“Fuck, that feels amazing,” she says, groaning as she interlocks her fingers and rests her forehead on her fists. She thinks she probably looks a lot like she’s praying, if not for the goddess in black lace fucking her with a strap-on. She does say a quick one to whatever higher being that may or may not exist begging them to let her survive this if only to have the chance to survive it again.
Chloe hums in agreement and tightens her grip on Beca’s ass, and Beca knows she’s going to have bruises tomorrow as Chloe’s pace begins to pick up until it’s a steady 60 beats per minute. Beca hates that she can clock it, but it’s second nature. It’s a pace that she knows won’t quite get her there; it’s just going to drive her to the edge and then drive her crazy with the need to come. It’s also a pace that she knows from her own experience in Chloe’s position can be kept up by the wearer for quite a while.
There’s nothing Beca can do but wait until Chloe decides to take mercy on her and she’s suddenly reminded that Chloe said she might want to beg for it. Now Beca understands why. She’s powerless to reach down and touch herself to hurry it along. She’s powerless to move because Chloe won’t let her. She has no choice but to let Chloe fuck her however she wants.
“Faster,” she tries, sure it will go ignored.
And it is.
Instead, Chloe chooses harder.
“Oh, shit,” Beca says through a moan. The force pushes Chloe so deep that Beca feels it bottom out and it makes her vision blurry when she tries to open her eyes to look down her own body to see what’s happening between her legs so she gives up. Much like she’s given up every ounce of control she could possibly have tonight.
She’s losing control of her voice, too, and her attempt to not come across as desperate as she knows Chloe knows she is is beginning to fail as her moan echoes around them with every slow, hard thrust.
“You sound so good,” Chloe says. Her own voice is labored and something about that, that Chloe’s working hard to fuck her so well turns Beca on, somehow, even more.
“I sound better when I come.” She’s not sure how she put together an entire sentence of sass but she feels Chloe react to it with an extremely slow withdrawal that hesitates, just shy of slipping out of Beca completely. She remembers what Chloe had said when she’d arrived, that she wants to know what Beca will sound like when she comes, and Beca wants to show her that more than life.
Chloe seems to crack, to surrender the tiniest bit of control with a sound that’s somewhere between a moan, a cry, and a gasp, and lets go of her grip on Beca’s ass to run her hands up her back and down to hold her waist. “Then let me hear you, baby.”
Her thrust back in is short and quick and she sets a brisk pace. Beca would thank her but she can’t, at least not right now, because the only thing her voice is good for now is moaning and the occasional, “Fuck!”
Her body’s being rocked forward again and again and her overly sensitive nipples are dragging back and forth over the smooth bed sheet and she can hear the way Chloe’s body connecting with her own just as much as she can feel it, a lewd, wet slapping that Beca could almost be ashamed of if it didn’t feel like heaven.
She can’t get words out but her voice still works and she’s loud as her orgasm nears its tipping point and it seems to encourage Chloe who pounds into her even faster.
It’s possible she screams.
She doesn’t know or care.
All she knows is the pleasure that rips through her with her orgasm and that Chloe doesn’t let up, even as Beca tightens hard around the toy and the brutal pace seems to make it last impossibly long. Her arms give out, as do her knees, and she all but collapses against the bed but even that doesn’t slow Chloe down.
She just keeps fucking Beca.
And now, with Beca’s hips being shoved into the bed with every hard, fast thrust, her clit which has been begging for attention drags over the firm edge of the mattress again and again and Beca’s sure she’s going to pass out. She can’t even tell if her first orgasm ended but she’s coming again.
She can feel Chloe leaning over her back. Can feel her breath fast and heavy on her neck.
“Yes, baby, give it to me,” she’s moaning in Beca’s ear. “You’re so hot you’re gonna make me come, too.”
Beca just whines.
She whines because her orgasm finally (tragically) ended and she already knows she’s going to come again whenever Chloe does. Her body’s been wound up like a spring for so long and there’s no stopping its powerful need for release.
She desperately tries to catch her breath but it’s impossible. Chloe’s fucking into her so hard and fast, chasing her own orgasm, that she simply can’t.
“I’m coming,” Chloe moans with a sharp thrust of her hips. “Oh God, I’m coming!”
She pins Beca’s hips to the bed and grinds into her and it grinds Beca’s clit right into the bed and Beca sees stars.
When her wits return, she feels lips on her back kissing slowly along her shoulder blades and a still-heaving chest against her back.
She whimpers and it’s enough to get Chloe’s attention because she stretches up to kiss the shell of Beca’s ear before the comforting warmth and weight of her body is gone. Beca shudders when Chloe pulls out of her, slowly, until they’re no longer joined and she feels Chloe’s hand smoothing over her ass which is more than a little tender.
Beca works to haul herself onto the bed to roll onto her back so she can finally breathe and she feels Chloe slide up next to her a few seconds later, hands deftly untying the knot around Beca’s wrists to finally (tragically) set her free.
“Oh, my God,” Beca says through a heaved sigh. “That was fucking incredible.”
“Heck yeah, it was.”
Beca maneuvers herself onto her side with the last bit of energy she has and scoots closer to tuck herself into Chloe’s side. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, baby,” Chloe says with a kiss to the top of Beca’s head.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“I definitely told you I was coming.”
Beca can hear the smirk in Chloe’s voice and she swats her thigh playfully. “I meant to LA.”
Chloe laughs and catches Beca’s hand to intertwine their fingers. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“Well, mission accomplished. Strangers in a bar, though? Really?”
“Wanted a chance for a one-night stand with my fiancée.” Chloe’s free hand tickles Beca’s back.
“One-night-stand? So I should kick you out for the night.”
“Don’t you dare,” Chloe says with a pout of a laugh.
“You used your real name this time.”
“I honestly forgot not to. I was too excited to see you.”
Beca chuckles and presses a kiss to Chloe’s neck. “You got so feisty. I’m going to be feeling that in the morning.”
“Is that a complaint I hear?”
“No,” Beca laughs. “You really committed, though. I can’t believe you brought the strap with you.”
“I flew across the country just to have dirty sex with you, Beca. Of course, I brought it.”
Beca just groans and pushes her face into Chloe’s neck to breathe her in. Chloe-after-sex is always her favorite scent; everything about Chloe’s essence is amplified and Beca’s senses are heightened and she never gets enough of it. “You tied me up,” she mumbles, starting to feel her post-coital bashfulness set in. It’s not that she’s shy; she’s still getting used to being 100% open with Chloe and working on overcoming the bouts of it. She shouldn’t be bashful about sex with Chloe; she’s marrying her, for crying out loud.
“Was it okay?”
Beca takes a minute to decide how to answer that doesn’t make her sound too much like a kinky pervert. “More than,” she lands on. “Can we do it again?”
“Now?” Chloe’s voice is incredulous. Understandably.
“No!” Beca answers quickly. “God, no. I’d die. Just, in the future.”
“Oh, totes.” She can hear the smile in Chloe’s voice so she unburrows herself to lift her head enough to find and capture Chloe’s lips with her own.
“‘Kay,” she says when they part, her body going into an involuntary and much-needed stretch that has her rolling away from Chloe.
“Is that your way of telling me it’s time for bed?”
Beca glances at Chloe who’s starting to sit up and as worn out as she looks, she’s still the most beautiful person Beca’s eyes have ever seen. She almost forgets to answer her. “Mm, yeah. Take that off, though,” she says, pointing at Chloe’s chest, still semi-covered by her black lace bra. “It’s scratchy.”
Chloe just laughs and strips it off to toss it aside and gesture at her lower half. “What about the rest?”
Beca’s eyes roam down over the garter belt and sneaky panties and stockings and the fact that none of the garters are still clipped to them because they couldn’t withstand all the activity and she bites her lip. She could stare at Chloe like that for hours and never get bored. But… “Yeah, all of it. I want to be close to you tonight and I don’t want to get tangled up in all that business.”
“Beca Mitchell wants to cuddle,” Chloe whispers across the bed conspiratorially and Beca rolls her eyes only for them to land on Chloe again to watch while she finishes undressing. “Okay, come on,” she says once she’s fetched the blanket that ended up on the floor in the chaos to pull over the both of them.
Beca scrambles, as best she can, into Chloe’s arms under the warm blanket to settle against her for the night.
“What time’s our flight leaving tomorrow?” Chloe asks as she uses Beca’s app-connected phone to turn off the lights in the hotel room.
Beca grunts. She knows it’s sometime in the morning. “I don’t know. Check my calendar?”
Chloe sighs in mock irritation and Beca watches through one squinted eye as she pulls up Beca’s personal calendar to check when the privately chartered jet is scheduled to take her (and now Chloe) home. “10:30. That’s not bad.” Chloe sets an alarm and puts her phone on the nightstand next to the dildo that went unused tonight.
“Still too early,” Beca says with a squeeze of a hug to Chloe’s middle.
“But we have our cake tasting when we get back.”
On cue, her stomach rumbles. “Fuck, I’m hungry.”
“We’ll get room service in the morning. Go to sleep, baby,” Chloe laughs before twisting her neck to kiss Beca’s forehead. “I love you.”
Beca huffs and then works her way closer, exhausted—and grateful—enough to overcome her stomach’s demands. “I love you, too. And I’m gonna get French toast.”
The end