Work Text:
“Andrea,” Miranda called from inside her office. “Is everything prepared for tonight?”
“Yes, Miranda.” The younger woman shuffled in, pausing just in the doorway. “I have the book set to be delivered electronically and your things have been sent over to the Met already.”
“My things? Is there some pressing engagement that will keep you from accompanying me tonight?” Miranda inquired trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice. “Oh right,” she tapped her bottom lip with her finger before rolling her eyes. “You have plans with your fry cook.”
Andrea smirked. “Of course not. Our things are being delivered as we speak. And, as discussed well in advance, I will be leaving early because, yes, I do have plans…with Nate.” Andy emphasized her boyfriend’s name, seemingly amused at the moniker Miranda had given him. “Emily can handle the second half of the evening on her own.” Miranda wasn’t convinced that was true.
The Metropolitan Museum of Art had commissioned an exquisite collection of ancient jewelry and was set to open the exhibit at the gala that evening. However, this opening was unique in the fact that instead of the pieces being viewed behind a glass panel, they would be worn.
Designers and curators had come together to create a one of a kind evening where ancient pieces were paired with a gown and select patrons would model them. The theme was Miranda’s idea. One of her better ones if she must say so herself.
Naturally, the jewelry was not allowed out of the museum so the event would be under heavier than normal security and the items, once accessioned, would be delivered to the dressing rooms assigned to each participating designer so they may dress their model of their choosing.
Miranda had been selected by The House of Versace and Donatella had refused to give her a hint as to what she would be wearing. Stating only that she would ‘outshine cleopatra herself’. Miranda took that to mean her evening wear would be inspired by Ancient Egypt and she was practically beside herself with excitement. Not that anyone could tell, except maybe Andrea. That girl was far more observant than she gave her credit for.
At half past four, Miranda and her entourage arrived at the museum.
Donatella brought in the garment bag and Miranda, trying to appear unaffected by the long wait, studied her nails before the reveal. The moment the gown was removed from beneath covering Miranda was enamored with it.
Dontalla had not disappointed her. The gown was flawless. It was absolutely stunning and the champagne color that by all accounts should have washed her complexion out, instead gave her an almost nude appearance. The cutouts in strategic positions accentuated her curves and when paired with the Ancient Egyptian breastplate that she was wearing that night, well… even she had to admit she was a vision.
The breastplate was solid gold and heavier than she anticipated it being. Adorned with jewels, and symbols she didn’t understand, Miranda stood in front of the mirror and felt transformed. Like royalty, and not just in the typical fashion sense. No, there was something else. There was an uncurrent of energy flowing through her body that she’d never felt before. Must be the jewelry, she thought, and headed off to make her dramatic appearance.
∞
The sheer white Kalisiris gown was Donatella’s idea.
The golden Isis wrist cuff was Andrea’s.
Both were impossibly distracting to Miranda.
Andrea’s kalisiris criss-crossed in the back and the sheer white fabric draped in the front covering her voluptuous breasts but concealed next to nothing. Miranda was supposed to be focused on greeting guests but instead all she could focus on was the light ghosting of said breasts against her back as she leaned in to whisper names in her ear.
The little puffs of air, coupled with the light touches were causing Miranda’s heart to race and the previously subtle twinges in her groin had grown to a full-on throb. Unable to take any more, she excused herself to the powder room. She needed distance from the suddenly intoxicating presence of her assistant.
Once inside she splashed water on her face, careful not to get any on the antique breastplate, and tried to shake the filthy thoughts running through her mind. Apparently, she’d lost track of time because a concerned Andrea entered the bathroom softly calling her name.
“Over here. Just gathering my thoughts.” She explained, something so out of character it caused Andrea’s brow to furrow. “Shall we?” Miranda motioned to the door and strode past her.
But Andrea hadn’t moved. In fact, she appeared incapable of movement at that moment. The soft gust of wind she produced by walking past her had reached Andrea and she took a deep breath, her lungs expanding in her chest causing her perfect breast to rise and fall deliciously. Miranda felt an overwhelming urge to cradle them softly in her hands, to stroke her nipples until they became perfectly furled buds between her finger tips. And, what the hell was going on?
Miranda took a shuddering breath. The look of concern on Andrea’s face had vanished and had been replaced with confusion.
“Miranda?” Andrea said in askance. “I…I, um…” she stumbled on her words and her Miranda saw her throat work as she swallowed hard. “I feel funny.”
“Well that’s….” Miranda trailed off at the look on her assistance face. “If you’re going to be sick, please stand back.”
“No, it’s not… I don’t feel sick. Just, I don’t know, funny.” She explained and moved closer to Miranda who had begun to sweat. The mood between them shifted, the tension rose higher with every step Andrea took toward her and an unfamiliar pressure began to build in Miranda’s groin. Beads of sweat gathered at the base of her hairline and she was convinced she was either going to explode or die from heat stroke. Oh god, maybe both?
“I feel the same,” Miranda husked to her assistant who was now just a foot away. The pressure between Miranda’s legs continued to grow and Miranda noticed that Andrea was itching.
“Something isn’t right, Miranda. My body… I feel like I’m on fire. And my skin is itchy. And your smell… it’s making me feel light headed,” she continued and began rubbing her arms with earnest.
Part of Miranda wanted to run, to turn and walk out of the power room before this, whatever this was, got out of hand. But another part of her, a part driven solely by desire for the young woman in front of her, reached out. She only intended to stop Andrea from scratching, but the moment their hands touched a flood of pheromones was released and Andrea’s pupils dilated. Her brown eyes wild…wanton. Miranda scented the air instinctually, her mind running on some sort of autopilot, and Andrea’s essence flooded her senses. The seductively sweet scent of lilies hung heavy in the air around her, and the pressure that had been building like a spring coiled too tight erupted, causing Miranda to step away from the door as she doubled over in pain, her hand still held fast to Andrea’s wrist.
“Miranda? What’s wrong?” Genuine worry in her voice. “Are you ok?”
When the pain subsided enough for her to stand there was a noticeable bulge in the front of her gown. “I’m…uh, I’m fine.” Embarrassed, confused and uncomfortable, Miranda tried to turn away, removing the hold she had on Andrea’s wrist to cover the new appendage between her legs. Her breath was heavier now, nearly panting from the heat caused by the hormones raging inside her body.
“Miranda, turn around.”
“No.”
“Please? Let me help.” She took a deep breath, “I can help.” She stated with more confidence.
“Really?” Miranda drawled. “And how exactly do you think you can help with this?” She turned around and grabbed Andrea’s hand, bringing it to her very stiff, very real, very large cock.
Andrea’s eyes widened in surprise and her other hand flew to her mouth as she gasped. “Miranda! Holy shit, you have a… a…,” she trailed off, unable to say the word.
“A cock, Andrea.”
Her assistant licked her lips in a way that made Miranda’s insides burn hotter at the thought of that warm tongue on her. Andrea’s scent changed as her arousal permeated the air around them and Andrea let out a low whine as her fingers caressed the hardness in her hand. “you must be uncomfortable, turn around, let’s take this dress off and give it some room to breathe.”
Miranda arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow at the suggestion.
Andrea looked mortified as the realization of what she said sunk in. “Or-or I could just go wait outside. Right, I’ll do that instead.” She moved toward the door, but Miranda shot her hand out and caught her by the shoulder, emitting a growl that made Andrea’s body visibly shake in response.
“You’ll do no such thing.”
“B-but…,” she stammered.
“I. Said. No.” And somewhere inside Miranda something clicked, and she became consumed with the idea of claiming this woman. Of owning her, body and soul. “Mine,” she growled out.
Andrea whimpered and looked away, baring her neck submissively and Miranda wasted no time pushing the woman up against the door. The full length of their bodies touching as Miranda’s hands moved up to the creamy white expanse of skin exposed at her neck and into Andrea’s deep brown tresses. Holding her, caressing her, scenting her. Both women disoriented but content to hold one another.
For a fleeting moment Miranda remembered the fry cook and pulled back, anger on her face at the fact that her Andrea belonged to someone else. But she wouldn’t dare force her to do something she didn’t want. Wouldn’t force her to be unfaithful. Miranda wanted her badly but, more than that, she cared too much for the woman to disrespect her like that. And though the air around them told her that Andrea was agreeable, she needed the verbal confirmation.
Andrea leaned forward and nuzzled Miranda’s neck tenderly. “Miranda, please.” She whimpered, rolling her hips gently into Miranda’s, the friction sent a jolt right to her cock as it twitched in response.
“Sshh, I’ve got you,” she soothed. “But what of your fry cook, dear one?” She spoke gently not wanting to spook Andrea.
“Gone.” She spoke into Miranda neck.
“Gone?”
“Gone.” Andrea stated. “Now, please, less talking…,” she reached her hand down between them and caressed Miranda’s engorged dick as she whispered, “more fucking.”
∞
Andrea POV
She had managed to get Miranda to let her away from the wall long enough to undo the zippers on their gowns and get their lingerie off. Now, Miranda stood before Andy, naked, her cock rock-hard and twitching. It was gorgeous and all she could think about was how much she wanted to taste it, taste her. Her legs suddenly felt like jelly and she dropped to her knees in front of Miranda. Slowly, and ever so gently, she ran her tongue along the underside of the shaft.
Heat spread through Andy’s body and swirled in her abdomen as she wrapped her lush lips around the bulbous head. The moan from above her caused a flood between Andy’s thighs, and she felt the slight movement of Miranda’s hips as she began to rock into her mouth, developing a tentative rhythm. Andy bobbed and drooled as Miranda’s hand pushed on the back of her head, pushing herself deeper, until she was rubbing the back of Andy’s throat. She’d never taken a cock this deep before and she gaged a little.
“ssshhhh,” Miranda said. “Relax your throat.” Andy did. “That’s it, dear one. Now take all of me.” And she pushed back in until Andy’s lips touched the base. Over and over she slid into her mouth and Andy’s head was swimming. Miranda was leaking precum and she tasted as wonderfully as she smelled. It was intoxicating but Andy needed more. She needed to be filled. Her pussy was aching and the intense desire she had to be owned was overwhelming her.
Miranda let out a low, displeased rumple when Andy stopped and when she stood, Miranda backed her into the wall again, pinning her and grinding against her pussy. The pressure on her clit made her gasp and cry out “yes!” against Miranda’s neck. She turned to nuzzle her again this time nipping and licking gently on the cord of the editor’s neck and that was all it took.
The next thing Andy knew, Miranda carried her to the sink and pushed her over the counter, ass in the air. Her pussy was dripping, she could feel the liquid running down her thighs like a river.
Miranda ran a finger through her slit. “Oh, Andrea. You absolutely soaked.”
Andy was panting, needing more, nearly frenzied with need. “Miranda, please!”
“Please what, dear?”
“Stop stalling, I need you. It hurts. I need you inside me.” Andy wiggled her hips seductively and the editor, taking pity on her poor mate, slipped a single digit inside. “Yes! More, I need more!”
Miranda smacked her ass playfully. “Is that how you ask, Andrea?”
“Please, please, please” she panted. “Take m--,” she was interrupted by the swift and deep thrust of Miranda’s dick. “eeeee….FUCKYES!”
Miranda moaned and Andy could hear her repeating “mine, mine, mine…” as she thrust deeper and deeper into her, her hands griping Andy’s hips setting a neck breaking pace. But Andy couldn’t care, she was lost to the feeling of Miranda filling her; fucking her. But something was missing, something vital, a deep growing need to be claimed; filled to the brim with Miranda’s seed; Mated and sated. She didn’t know where it came from, just that she desired it.
Miranda must have sensed it too because she moved a hand to Andrea’s hair and pulled her upright. In the mirror she could see the rivulet’s of sweat running between her breasts and Miranda behind her holding her tightly, possessively, by her hair.
Andy could feel the pressure of something building at the Miranda’s base. Something bigger, stopping her from bottoming out on her mate’s cock and she wriggled around trying to work it in. She needed it.
“Andrea, I need… I think this might hurt, but I need to be inside… fully inside you.” Their eyes met in the mirror. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I-I th-think so,” she had trouble getting words out while she was being pummeled and restrained from behind. “Oh-o-own mmmeee, MirandaaAAHHHHHH”
Miranda pushed so deep into Andy that she thought she would rip in half. The editor growled “Mine,” before she yanked her head to the side and sank her teeth into the flesh at the base of Andy’s neck and shoulder. She cried out in pain and pleasure when she felt the pop of Miranda’s knot and they both came as she chanted Miranda’s name like a prayer to the gods. The editor’s sweet essence filled her and the sense of euphoria that swept over Andy caused lights to flash behind her eyes. The two stayed still, lingering in each other’s embrace, Miranda softly laving the bite she’d given Andy and caressing her arms.
“Did I hurt you?” Miranda asked, concerned that her mate might be uncomfortable.
“No, it was perfect.” She sighed coming down from her high.
Miranda preened at the praise and her cock twitched inside Andrea. “So, round two?”
Andrea giggled. Never in her life had she felt such a connection with another person. Never had she felt so completely owned and cared for. When she met the steel blue eyes full of hope in the mirror, she knew right then that this was forever, for both of them. She took Miranda’s arms and wrapped them around her torso, interlocking their fingers lovingly. “Round two,” she said with a wide smile.
∞
It wasn’t until after the third round that the two women removed themselves from the powder room. Apparently, no one at the gala even noticed they were gone and when Andy looked at the clock not a single minute had passed. Time had literally stood still for Miranda Priestly.
When they turned the ancient breastplate back in to the museum, Miranda’s new ‘friend’ disappeared. Simply dissolved into thin air.
“Did you have a good time, Mrs. Priestly?” one of the curators asked.
“Just Miranda, and yes…” she trailed off for a moment before finishing brightly. “I did.”
∞
Later, research about that particular piece of jewelry turned up some rather fascinating information. They found out that it was created for the Egyptian fertility god Min and it was intended to increase the virility of the wearer. Rumors that it was imbued with magical properties floated around but had never been confirmed.
Miranda laughed.
A very pregnant Andrea waddled over for a good morning kiss and slipped the museum auction notice on Miranda’s stomach. Two day’s later, Miranda found herself the proud new owner of a familiar piece of jewelry.
FIN