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There was, Beau thought with extreme satisfaction, nothing quite like this.
This often encompassing a broad spectrum of things like "this relationship" or "this level of trust" or "this thrill of anticipation," but right now, more specifically, Beau stood with her back straight and her fingers relaxed as Yasha finished buckling cool, soft leather around her wrists and gave the short chain between them a tentative tug. This. Nothing like it.
"Too tight?"
Beau knew the answer already and truthfully Yasha probably did too, but she rolled her shoulders and reached to touch her fingertips to the inside of Yasha's wrist as she turned to smile up at her. "Just right."
And gods, Yasha was always stunning but the sight of her brow unfurrowing as she consciously stepped further into her role for the evening with a smile of her own - it was all hot already, but with her wrists bound behind her and the knowledge of where things were headed, Beau was unsurprised to feel a flare of heat between her legs just from that one simple moment. The instinct to reach for Yasha ran up against the reminder of her situation about forty more times in the following second as Yasha bent her head to kiss the bare skin between Beau's shoulder blades. "You're perfect, Beau. You look so good."
Shivers exploded down Beau's spine and along her bottom jaw. "What can I say? Blue's my color."
"Mmm." Yasha's hands left Beau's wrists with a final tug and spent a heady few seconds slowly winding Beau's braid up into a bun. She pinned it in place with a clip from her own hair, and then those hands came to rest on the deep aqua sash holding up her Reserve pants - all she had left of the day's work. "It really is your color," Yasha murmured, "but sometimes less is more." As much as Beau wanted to comment on how smooth that was she found her tongue glued to the roof of her mouth as Yasha's fingers slipped just inside to toy with her hipbones.
What came out was more of a strangled "hurrgh" noise that Beau coughed to hide before trying again. "Damn, you might be more into this than me. And I'm very into it," she added hastily when Yasha's hands stilled. "Like, top ten fantasies kinda thing, making my dreams literally come true, all of it."
A soft huff against her hair as Yasha buried her nose in it and pulled Beau's hips back flush to hers. Or as close as, given Beau's arms in the way. The temptation to steal a swipe of her fingers over the seam of Yasha's pants was strong, but Beau breathed in deeply and reined it in. Her hands were out of bounds for a reason. They were getting to that.
"You really dream about eating me out with your hands tied?" Her voice was equal parts playful and genuinely curious.
"Sometimes blindfolded," Beau chirped. "Or in a harness, or while also being fucked from behind - that one's gotten me through some boring-ass meetings, let me tell you."
Her voice cracked on the last words as one of Yasha's hands left her waist to drag blunt, black nails up her stomach and between her breasts before touching them lightly to Beau's lips. The touch was unsure of itself, a question answered by the curl of arousal stirring again in Beau's gut and more obviously when she tipped her head forward and carefully took two fingertips in her mouth. She enjoyed the sharp little inhale and the tightening of Yasha's grip with her other hand made her eyes flutter closed with a tiny groan of her own as she laved Yasha's fingerpads with her tongue.
She didn't bother to be prim, and when Yasha finally drew her hand away it was with a long spider's thread of shining silver that quivered a moment in the lamp light before breaking under its own weight.
"You're incredible," Yasha said wonderingly. Then: "Gods, I need you naked right now."
Her body heat vanished from behind Beau as her hands flew to fumble with her sash, and Beau couldn't help the snigger that fell out of her as she braced one leg in the sudden hurry. "Oh good. I was worried you were gonna go slow til we both exploded."
She jumped with a little yelp of a laugh at the flash of Yasha's teeth on the ass she was wasting no time baring and lifted her feet to assist. "I don't think I could be slow with you right now. Not looking like this."
Dirty talk was one of those ideas further along the timeline of Beau's fantasy chart when it came to Yasha and her blunt propensity for stating obvious facts, but there was an opportunity here that she couldn't resist as her pants were ripped impatiently away and thrown somewhere. "Looking like what?"
"Like…this," Yasha repeated, which Beau had pretty much expected, and then she added, "tied up and helpless," which she had not and found herself nearly choking on her exhale. "I know you're not - helpless, exactly," Yasha added hurriedly, evidently having mistaken the hitch in Beau's breath for protest. "You're just…pretending, kind of. And that's so much better."
"Yash." Beau took a long, slow inhale through her nose, and when she opened her eyes her girlfriend was standing in front of her and watching with those dark and mismatched eyes. Hungry. Curious. So, so affectionate. "If you don't hurry up and get comfy in that chair and spread your legs so I can give you the slowest, gentlest tongue fucking of your life, I might actually die. Just a heads up."
The blush rising in Yasha's cheeks had absolutely no right to make this much a ruin of Beau's insides. "Okay." Yasha gave a jerky little nod. "Yeah. Um." She looked down at her breastband and her pants. "I just have to-"
"Uh huh," said Beau. "You do." Her voice came out raspy with an affected coolness, but only because her mouth was literally dry as she stood there bound and bare and aching with the helplessness of being able to do nothing but watch Yasha scrambling to present herself. She thought of the big plush chair in the living room and the fire she could hear crackling in the hearth, the single glass Yasha had set out on the little table beside it and the tall, dark bottle of wine Beau had selected. Yasha was righter than she knew about pretending and the way this all worked. No part of her existed that would lounge in that big, soft chair totally naked and let - maybe one day demand - that Beau suckle and service her on her knees with her hands tied until she fell apart under Beau's teeth and tongue. No part of Beau was at any point truly helpless, less for reasons involving being able to slip her cuffs and more because Yasha would die before she let anything make Beau feel truly helpless in her presence. But here they were, pretending, and for two people as committed to seeing the truth of each other there was an exhilarating kind of vulnerability wrapped up in it.
It was there in the way Yasha watched Beau sink to her knees off to the side of the chair and look up at her with a tiny smile and an encouraging nod, there in the way the two of them blushed and giggled a bit as Yasha figured out how to sit so that Beau could lean and reach her. Exposure in the mouthwatering bloom of her cunt opening before Beau's eager eyes, yes, but more in the way Beau made sure to look right at her as she planted the first kiss far from it on the inside of her thigh. There was a hesitance in Yasha that had lessened without fading entirely. As a rule, Beau tended to insist her partners be as into whatever it was they did at least as much as she was. Somewhere between the cuffs and here, Yasha had hit a snag.
Which seemed on brand for what was an objectively awkward sort of dance - as much as Beau loved to have Yasha call the shots, the fact remained that she was the one Yasha depended on to make things happen. No problem. Her mouth still worked, right?
"Hey."
Yasha's eyes found hers, looking a little lost. "I'm okay."
"You're perfect, but I take your point."
Yasha smiled, thin but earnest. "I think I feel…a little silly. You know, up here. I don't know how to focus on anything but you."
"I am tragically easy to look at, it's true" Beau agreed with a mock gravity, earning a light chuckle from Yasha, "but this is about you relaxing and letting me take care of you. Not about me, though full disclosure I will be getting off to this for weeks."
Firelight flickered through Yasha's aqua eye as her lips pursed in unmistakable arousal. That was good. She was mostly on board already - just needed a little nudge. "That is part of the problem," she confessed. "I want very much to be the one having you like this. I…I guess I'm not sure where to start, when I'm not actually doing anything."
Beau's mind hazed a bit - images of Yasha unraveling in that chair, book forgotten and hands clutching the arms of it as Beau lapped her up relentlessly, gasping her name in that wrecked and ruined way she got towards the end…not actually doing anything was the grossest of misinterpretations, borderline offensive to consider, but Yasha always sold herself short when she was nervous. And nervousness was something Beau could help, tied hands or not.
"You'll be doing plenty," she assured, "but as for where to start, just get comfy. Actually open your book, pour some wine. Go on," she coaxed. "I'm not gonna just jump in."
A little bit of uncertainty left Yasha, and she nodded. "I can do that."
Beau smiled and leaned so that her head rested against the inside of Yasha's knee, watching her girlfriend relax into the mundane and well-trod ritual of opening a new bottle of wine. She'd enlisted Caleb's help finding it; Xhorhassian, weighty with sweet plum and a bitch and a half to make owing to the harsher climates. Divine intervention was needed to make something so sweet come from somewhere so tumultuous, and as far as Beau was concerned, that metaphor stacked perfectly with the gentle angel from the wastes pouring herself a deep glass of it from above. Yasha gave it a little sniff and blinked, then took another and a tiny, tentative sip.
"Oh," she murmured. "That's very good." Se set the bottle to the side and wiggled a little further down in the chair, looking worlds looser in just those few minutes. "You spoil me, Expositor Lionett."
"Mmmm. You ain't seen nothing yet."
Yasha hummed contentedly and found a perch for her heels on the fabric-padded lip in the front, pulling the book open with fingers that shook just slightly. Beau shifted slowly, peeling her cheek from the inside of Yasha's knee and keeping her eyes on the prize as she waited. "I think I would have already given in by now," Yasha mused in lieu of starting to read. "If I were…" Beau swallowed audibly at the tantalizing sight of her cunt so close, pink and wet and gleaming like a dream.
"If you were the kind of person who got off to cuffs and service, yeah. But you're not." She turned her head and kissed the inside of Yasha's other thigh. Just a few moments more, she told herself. It would be so fucking worth the wait. Yasha always was. "And there's no way I could pay attention to a book with you anywhere near me like this," she added, "so all of that's why I'm here and you're there."
Yasha's eyes looked through her for a moment. "I don't think I could pretend to like having my hands tied," she murmured. Beau could almost see the memories playing out behind her eyes and wished for the first time she had her hands free, just to stroke the sides of Yasha's face when she said, "I think you're braver than me."
"I have never been pretending less in my life."
Yasha chuckled a little at that and even took her second sip of wine, still smiling and not quite meeting Beau's eyes. "I…don't think I am either, right now." The scent coming off of her was growing stronger, starting to cloud Beau's thoughts even as she kept her eyes vaguely upwards. She couldn't help a lingering glance at those soft pink breasts though, or an aching appraisal of the creases shifting in Yasha's belly with every breath.
"Yeah?" Beau managed, a little breathless. "Kinda like feeling all special and cared for up there?"
Yasha hesitated even as her lips pulled of their own accord into a wider smile. "Yeah. I think I do. I like you," she elaborated. "And I really like that you like this."
Beau grinned up at her and straightened a bit, rolling her shoulders to lean in until her mouth was hovering hardly an inch from Yasha's open heat. "Good," she said, gratified by the way Yasha's breath caught. "Now get busy relaxing so I can chow down. Slowly."
Yasha's eyebrows moved as a unit, but Beau had gotten good at detecting the aura of single eyebrow lift a long time ago and felt the impression now, loud and clear. "Is that an order?"
Shit, she was going to ruin Beau, and Beau wouldn't lift a finger to stop her. "Yeah," she rasped. "S'all I got left before begging."
Yasha opened her mouth, closed it again. "Another time," she said, almost to herself. "We will come back to that another time. Wow."
That seemed like as good a word as any to really kick things into gear, and for all her frankly saintly patience Beau's mouth was starting to make more drool than she could be reasonably expected to contain. But it didn't matter anymore. It was go time. Beau pushed herself up on her knees, planted a soft kiss just above the tangle of Yasha's silvery curls, and finally, slowly lowered her tongue to Yasha's slit.
She paused when Yasha tensed automatically, counting to three in her head and smiling when she relaxed again right on cue. True to her word, she kept her touches light - nuzzling her nose gently against the nub of Yasha's clit in a kind of greeting and a promise but concentrating for now on slow, even strokes until she could sense the rest of the tension in Yasha melting. She kept it up for another minute and when she glanced up, it was to find Yasha's eyes settled, if a little restless, on the page.
Beau took her time, alternating her explorations to keep pressure off of her jaw and her girlfriend as she slowly worked Yasha's lips from a damp, modest pink to a glistening and eager red. She backed off whenever Yasha would twitch, swapping for a moment to smear slick, open-mouth kisses along her thighs and her stomach before diving back in, the wood on her knees and the tension of her bound arms reminding her where she was and what she was doing at all times. It was almost like meditation, and frankly if this had been the teaching method she wouldn't have had half the issues focusing. She certainly didn't have any now.
Time ebbed and flowed around them, Beau content to lose herself in the taste and the feel of Yasha all around as she sucked and licked her up and worked her back down. The world fell away, narrowed, until eventually, she heard it - a whimper, so quiet as to be nothing more than a sigh of need when Beau pulled away at the next soft twitch. A thrill of anticipation rippled through her, and Beau flicked her eyes up to find Yasha watching her in a mesmerizing haze of blush and lust, eyes blown and lips slightly parted as she held the book shut with one hand and the near-empty glass of wine in the other. Bingo.
"Fuck, Beau," she breathed. "Please."
She'd already heard her cue, but at those words an arc of arousal struck Beau's own cunt and pulled her awareness to it for the first time since she'd drifted like this. She shifted her knees as she swirled her tongue inside of Yasha and had to close her eyes with a soft groan at the realization that she was absolutely soaking. The movement smeared slick along the insides of her own thighs, trailing down and cooling even in the warmth of the nearby fire. Beau sucked Yasha's clit into her mouth with damn near a whine at the way her hips arched beautifully, riding the expected wave expertly and sparing a very brief thought that if she were to somehow fuck up this rhythm she'd created with Yasha, she at least couldn't think of a single hotter reason for a nosebleed.
She didn't fuck it up though. Beau wasn't even thinking at this point, just bobbing her head and lapping at the little nub between her lips as Yasha's breathing grew steadily more ragged. Her legs bracketed Beau's head and fell open again with the sound of a book hitting the floor, and then one of her legs slipped off the front of the chair as her thighs began to shake in a familiar way.
"Beau," she whimpered. "Beau, baby…"
She didn't dare change a thing, just let her body take over as her mind clouded with the heady smell and heat of Yasha all around. Going down on the women she liked was genuinely one of Beau's favorite things, and getting to go down on someone she absolutely adored as much as Yasha - hands tied, nothing but her lips and her tongue and the pressure just right…gods.
Yasha locked up around her with a soft and strangled cry, the telltale sign of release as the roll of her hips took on a more jagged twitch that deterred Beau not at all as she followed those movements with a complete disregard for her aching jaw. There was no floor, no burn in her arms anymore or wet heat between her own legs. Just Yasha, unraveling and shaking and taking harsh little sips of air until her twitches turned to the sort of overstimulation. Then and only then did Beau release her, press a final chaste kiss to her clit, and sit back on her heels.
And oh - something about it all was as familiar as breathing, but the way Yasha was half-propped in a position wholly unsuited to the chair, covered in a thin sheen of sweat glistening gold to her usual silver, one hand still tangled in her own hair for something to hold onto…
"Holy shit," Beau whispered, then: "breathe, babe."
Half a laugh shuddered out of Yasha, not quite hysterical. "I can't. I think you took all my air."
There was a half-formed joke about taking her breath away in the back of Beau's mind, but calling it forward would have meant focusing on anything but the little aftershock gasps and noises Yasha made as she came down - and besides, she wasn't entirely sure right now which of them was the punchline.
Yasha sat up and dragged her hand through her hair before meeting Beau's eyes, the only warning she got before her girlfriend shifted forward to grasp Beau gently under the chin and pull her up and forwards. "Come here." Beau scrambled to get her feet under her, to comply, to speak up, anything. She was breathless and dizzy with arousal, and with her hands locked behind her there was a split second of a very real danger of stumbling. That's all she needed, was to eat shit right at the end and ruin the whole thing. The lack of agility itself was disorienting and unfamiliar, but Yasha's other hand was already reaching for her ass to haul her up on the seat without so much as a pause. That, at least, was extremely familiar: Yasha being there to catch Beau whether she was actually going to fall or not.
Her knees slid into the spaces on either side of Yasha's lap, skin tingling with the friction as she looked down at Yasha's dark eyes and swallowed at the sheer depth of them. "Hiya." She licked her lips and shivered when Yasha squeezed her ass in response, eyes fluttering briefly shut as the hand holding her jaw still trailed down her throat and over her scar without a trace of self-consciousness. Yasha said nothing, just watched her with that hungry gaze and her finger pads skated down over Beau's stomach and slid home amid her trimmed and wiry hair.
"Beau." She sounded torn between awe and an attempt to tease. "You're a mess. Just from that?"
The hesitance from earlier had fled entirely; bonds or no, Yasha knew exactly what to do with Beau at her mercy. And she was definitely at her mercy, even moreso right now than every other second she was breathing. She nodded dumbly and ground shamelessly against the finger sliding along her slit, self-control all but abandoned. "Should see yourself," she managed, gasping with a tiny roll of her hips as Yasha pushed that one finger up inside of her.
"I would rather look at you. Gods, baby."
Beau whined at the shift between her thighs as Yasha added a second finger, a stretch more pleasant for the sheer size of them but which wasn't quite enough. "Please," she ground out, and she knew by the flash of Yasha's eyes that she had recognized the echo of her own earlier exhalation.
The hand on her ass flew to the back of her neck and pulled her down into a tender, starving kiss that lit Beau up from the inside even as Yasha's fingers kept working her open from below. The angle was all wrong; without her hands, Beau had no way to help or steady herself for the ride that was coming. Ah, well. She'd had her fun with the cuffs, but practicality decreed that if she wanted the fingering of her life in this chair - and she fervently, desperately did - she needed to do her part to make it happen.
Beau leaned into Yasha's kiss and twisted an arm behind her, fingers reaching for the wide strap of the opposite wrist and catching just as Yasha pulled away and tightened her grip on Beau's neck. Beau froze instantly, like kitten scruffed. "What are you doing?"
Beau took in the wet slide of Yasha's lips and spared a pang of arousal for the realization that Yasha had to have just tasted herself all over her mouth. "I'm uh. Balance. I need - so you can rail me. Please rail me."
Cool air washed over her swollen lips as Yasha huffed, her hand loosening its grip. "Leave them on. You're not going anywhere."
Three fingers, and the stretch was so delicious. Beau felt full, held with every centimeter Yasha claimed inside of her. "Hnggk," she managed, eyes closing as she bore down as hard as she dared.
Yasha spread her thighs to push Beau's legs more firmly against the padded arms of the chair, bracing her as she pulled Beau's head down to her shoulder. "I've got you." Her hand disappeared from Beau's neck to latch on to the back of her knee and hold her steady as Beau arched hard into the stretch. "So good for me." Yasha pressed a kiss to Beau's shoulder, then added teeth and held on as Beau thrashed with the certainty of the grip on her thigh.
"Harder," she rasped into Yasha's neck, and even she wasn't sure if she was asking for more biting or a rougher fuck.
It hardly mattered. The fingers that had been rocking in an out of her experimentally began to pick up an earnest rhythm, and Yasha let go of her shoulder only as long as it took to seal her mouth up closer to the base of Beau's neck and bite down with significantly more force.
Beau's mouth opened for a long and soundless moment as she spasmed into and away from everything at once, and her breath when it tore out of her was a ragged groan she'd have been embarrassed about if she'd been able to summon a single thought of anything but the pleasure and pain looping through her on a live wire as Yasha held her steady with one hand and mercilessly fucked her with the other. Her thumb pressed against Beau's clit and she swore she heard a chuckle when she yelped against Yasha's neck, but nothing changed except for the small circles she started up and which had Beau writhing and making guttural whines in seconds. She had never been fucked like this, pinned with teeth and the raw strength of a hand holding her down as her hips jerked and her wrists pulled on their bonds from the pure instinct of wanting to grab Yasha and hold on as she started to come apart.
But there would be no grabbing - Beau was bound by Yasha's words more than any leather. She was stuck instead in the heady, overwhelming feedback loop of trying to reach for Yasha, running up against her bonds, and remembering her situation with a fresh flash of arousal before the whole thing started again.
She might have managed words - pleas, swears, a portion of Yasha's name - she couldn't be certain. There was only the pressure of her forehead on Yasha's shoulder, the burn of the teeth in her own, and the absolute conviction that she was being unmade entirely by the relentless hand between her legs. Spots exploded behind her eyes, a broken wail higher than she'd heard from her own mouth spilling out and jerking along with the cut strings of her body as she bucked helplessly on Yasha's fingers.
And then it was over. The blood cooled slowly in Beau's ears as the pressure on her clit let up by degrees, and her shoulder burned with cool air when Yasha's mouth released her to press a soft kiss over the ache. She guided Beau to sit back and rest her weight on her thighs, steadying her and lifting a hand to brush away a damp strand of hair from Beau's face. "Good?"
There was no room in Beau's head for words. She just nodded, trembling uncontrollably and finding it within her to blush when Yasha swiped a thumb under her lip and marveled at the shiny drool that came away.
"You're incredible," she said proudly. "Come on. Let's get you unbuckled and warm."
Beau exhaled at the sensation of loss as Yasha withdrew her fingers and leaned again to rest her head on one silvery shoulder. Yasha put a hand under her thighs and stood like Beau wasn't even there, like it took literally nothing to hold her close and carry her to their bed. She thought about saying something, decided to pass for now since the only fragmented thoughts she could yet gather were things like "hot" and "fuck" and "please," which seemed...unwise. If Yasha took her up on it she might pass out, and she was too comfy and blissed out to risk it.
Only once she'd been set lovingly on the bed and Yasha's fingers were at work on the leather binding her did Beau find her voice and something worth saying. "That's two."
The first cuff slipped free; Beau's hands lifted of their own accord and drifted, trembling, to the front. "Two what, baby?" Yasha made quick work of the other cuff while Beau rubbed her sweaty wrist, and when they'd been tossed to the side she gently took over the soothing motions.
"Fantasies. With the cuffs. Fuck," Beau added emphatically, "you're so fucking gorgeous, Yash." It wasn't quite the phrasing necessary for Beau to convey the depth of the feelings swirling around in her right about now, but a shared history of growing up with a limited vocabulary for things outside of survival gave her some confidence that Yasha heard her anyway.
She certainly seemed affected. Her focused expression relaxed into the sort of overwhelmed smile she always got when Beau did things like take her on tower dates or insist she let herself relax and be gently fucked - the kind of face she got when Beau succeeded in making her feel special. "And you're a mess," she teased, which made Beau giggle and squirm when Yasha bumped her nose against her forehead. She chased it with a soft kiss, then pressed another to the back of the hand in hers. "Wait here and I'll get some towels, okay?"
Beau nodded and reluctantly pulled her hands back to her lap, collapsing backwards on their furs almost as soon as Yasha's back was turned. Part of her wondered how they'd gotten here, from Beau taking care of Yasha to the other way round, but these days it was nothing at all to think of how much Yasha adored being in the rare position to take care of her and remind herself that in all likelihood, Yasha considered this part as much of a luxury as the wine.
When they were clean and snuggled up under the heavy blanket Caduceus had gifted them on his last visit, Beau lifted her chin from Yasha's chest and pressed a sleepy kiss to the underside of her jaw. "Hey…love you."
She could feel Yasha's smile in the dark as she kissed the top of her head, even before it came out in her voice. "I love you too, baby. So much."
Beau hummed happily and settled in, warm and content - and utterly, completely caught off guard when the silence broke above her once more: "So were you thinking Jester for that other fantasy, or someone else?"
"Oh my gods, babe. You cannot spring a theoretical threesome on me literally two seconds before bed. It's a thing."
"I'm hearing a yes on Jester."
Beau huffed without any heat. "I know other people too, you know. Like Reanie. She's there sometimes."
A beat. "Who?"
Beau sighed. "Ah, yeah. Forgot. Go to sleep, babe. I'll tell you about her tomorrow."
"Promise?"
"Yup." Beau smiled and tangled her thigh further between Yasha's. "Apparently I've created a monster here. No stopping things now."
"I am very thorough," Yash agreed. "And you have good ideas. Goodnight, baby."
Art by the lovely casukaga on her private twitter! (Uploaded with permission of course). Find her at candidlycasu, 18+ only.