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Jeremy has taken off her fancy date clothes and is lounging on the bed in the white cut-off tank top she likes to sleep in and some red briefs with a cut-out heart for the occasion by the time Jean is done in the bathroom. They'd gotten home and Jean had gone to the bathroom, so Jeremy had taken Jab out for his bedtime walk and already put him back up and gotten undressed for bed, hoping Jean's stomach wasn't upset. They'd tried a new restaurant for Valentine's Day, and Jean had been brave with the food choices, after all.
Jeremy looks up as Jean closes the door behind her and her phone drops from her hand to the bed, and her jaw drops along with it, because gone is the gorgeous burgundy wide-legged, flutter-sleeve jumpsuit with a steep v-neck she'd been wearing on their date. Now, the only thing adorning Jean's beautiful body is a lingerie set that makes Jeremy's mouth water.
Her legs are covered by semi-sheer bright red micro fishnet thigh-high stockings with red dots scattered about them, a wide band of lace sitting high on her thighs with a large heart on the front, nearly hitting her panty line. Jeremy barely gets a solid look at her before Jean speaks, only noticing the thin, lacy panties sitting low on her hips, seeing that there's a floral pattern on them, as well as the bra, which is so tiny Jeremy wonders if Jean's really been wearing it all night and if so, feeling incredibly impressed.
"Happy Valentine's Day," Jean says, her husky voice pitched even lower than normal. Jeremy almost whimpers and melts to a puddle right where she's sitting on the bed. When Jean rests her body against the door, Jeremy takes it as her cue to stand, and she walks over to her girlfriend, eyes wide and drinking her in. She's a vision, and tonight Jeremy feels blessed to have eyes. Jeremy stops in front of her, hands to herself and mouth dry, and Jean shifts, cocking her hip up and bringing a hand to play in her long, black curls, teasing and tantalizing. "Do you want your treat?"
Jeremy hits her knees with a soft moan and her hands land on the tops of Jean's feet. When Jean doesn't correct her for touching, Jeremy slowly trails her fingers up Jean's stockings, loving the way they feel against her skin. As she pets the soft fabric stretched over Jean's strong ankles, over her sculpted, perfect calves, up the backs of her knees, and to the hems of them high on Jean's thighs, Jeremy's breath comes in short pants, her eyes following her fingers and then going off on their own journey, past where her fingers stop. Jean's thighs pudge the tiniest bit over the tops of the stockings and Jeremy wants to nibble on the soft swell of skin, but she doesn't. She isn't allowed yet.
Jean's body is incredible, insane, and divinely made specifically to drive Jeremy wild. She lets her eyes feast on Jean because her hands can't yet, and it's so devastating that even allowing her eyes to look feels torturous.
"Yes," she whispers, not even realizing that the window for normal response time has long since expired. Her whisper comes out strained, somehow, but she doesn't clear her throat to try again. She wants Jean to know she's struggling for coherency right now. Jean deserves it.
Jean deserves anything she wants.
The beautiful goddess above her just laughs, a little low and throaty, and Jeremy swallows in response. She wants those chuckles to break off into gasps and moans, wants to pepper her thighs and pussy with so many kisses her lips are permanently etched into Jean's skin, even without lipstick. She wants to pull Jean's panties to the side, or just completely off, and press her face in until Jean's lips part around Jeremy's mouth and give her access to the perfect, tangy taste of Jean, the flavor Jeremy wakes up with as a ghost on her tongue most mornings, the flavor Jeremy can find in her mouth hours after she's brushed her teeth, the flavor Jeremy craves so much she might have some kind of vitamin defficiency.
Her eyes finally rise to Jean's panties and the close-up *vision of them gives her a new struggle, because they're shiny and silky-soft. The lacy pattern in the center, that surrounds Jean's pubic mound and goes between her thighs around to her ass, is the same pattern of the hearts front and center on Jean's thigh-highs, and the delicate floral pattern on the sides of her panties is the same as the pattern on the wide band at the tops of the stockings. Fringing the bottom hem and flirting with the soft skin of Jean's hips and inner thighs is a ruffly kind of swooping lace pattern that Jeremy wants to trace on Jean's skin with her tongue. They sit low on Jean's hips, low enough that Jeremy can see Jean's v-lines above the waistline. Then again, the panties themselves are semi-sheer just like the tights, and Jeremy can also see the v-lines thought the panties. She wants to scrape her teeth against the muscle there. Jeremy's next breath comes out as a groan as she gets the tiniest, slightest hint of the scent of Jean's arousal. Jeremy's fingers tighten over the lace covering Jean's thighs as she inhales deeply, and Jean laughs at her again.
Jeremy forces her eyes to continue up, traveling over the expanse of her tummy, her core strength showing even at rest. The scars on her skin are laid bare, and Jeremy gives each and every one of them her eye on her way up Jean's body. From the tiny dots to the long, precise, sharp lines, to the jagged whorls, Jeremy has given all of them kisses and pets and whispered her love with her lips pressed against them, all while Jean carded her fingers through Jeremy's hair, watching in bemused fascination.
Now, Jean waits patiently for Jeremy's eyes to continue their journey up her body, so Jeremy does. And when she gets to the bra —
The bra.
The bra is a front-fastening one, the same floral pattern as the sides of the panties and the wide band on the stockings, the same semi-sheer opacity as the panties and stockings, letting Jeremy see her nipples through the bra perfectly. Best of all, the bust it has a cutout on the bottom of it. Just above the rib band, Jean's underbreasts threaten to spill out, held in only by fabric and a prayer. Jeremy's answered prayers, probably, she thinks as she takes in the way the connected fastener holds Jean's breasts in and up, tight enough that they swell over the top, as well. Barely contained, threatening to break free — what a fitting description of everything about Jean Moreau, honestly. Jeremy licks her lips.
Up and up and up, her gaze tracks the way Jean's necklace dangles perfectly between Jean's breasts, just high enough at the start of her cleavage that it isn't covered by the bra. Jeremy notes the long, slender line of Jean's neck, the way her black hair contrasts to the natural paleness of her skin, resisting tanning much at all despite seeing the sun more often these days. Jeremy's eyes alight upon the makeup Jean's wearing. Her lipstick matches the red of her lingerie, Jeremy realizes in a daze, but it's not overdone — the makeup is simple, given her short time experimenting with it, but beautiful thanks to Laila and YouTube tutorials — and Jeremy finally registers the curve of her red lips as she smiles, loving the way Jeremy has just worshipped her with her eyes.
Jeremy wants to worship her with her hands and mouth, too, and maybe her strap if Jean's up for it tonight. Anything. Jeremy would give her anything. She wants Jean to offer Jeremy her cunt to feast on and exalt. She wants Jean to guide her to the bed and lay her out and have her way with her. She wants Jean to sit on her face and claim what is rightfully hers: Jeremy's mouth and tongue, Jean's right to chase pleasure, Jeremy's joy, ownership of both of their orgasms; everything belongs to Jean.
Jean puts a hand in Jeremy's hair and runs it down to cup the base of her skull. When Jeremy's eyes flash back up to Jean's, her ruby lips smile wider and she asks, "Do you like my outfit?"
The breath leaves Jeremy and she nods. "Yes," she croaks. "You looks so…" She doesn't even try to finish that thought. She knows no word to do Jean's visage justice.
Jean seems to preen at the concept of being indescribably, though, and she asks again, "Do you want your treat?"
Jeremy whines, low in her throat. Jean can be cruel with her teasing sometimes; a treat could be anything in her book, depending on her mood. An orgasm. Five orgasms back to back. No orgasms. Being tied up and made to watch. Being tied up and used as a plaything. It's always good, but sometimes it's good and mean. Nervous, Jeremy licks her lips and asks, "My treat?"
Jean's smile turns sly, devious, like she knows exactly what has Jeremy on the edge of her seat. She shifts, spreading her legs, and Jeremy groans at the way the movement and new stance parts her thighs and allows more of Jean's scent to reach her nose, as close as she is. And then she brings her left thigh up, Jeremy's hand sliding away from it and falling to her lap as the covered leg lands on her right shoulder. Jeremy's breath hitches as Jean's stockinged foot slides down her back, stopping just above her ass, just above the briefs she'd worn just for Jean. Jean turns sideways just enough to be comfortable and gently pulls Jeremy's head to the side, allowing her to to rest the side of her face on her thigh.
The lace rubs at Jeremy's cheek. It takes everything Jeremy's got, every bit of restraint, every bit of love for this game they play, to keep herself still. Every ounce of respect for this thing they do, this control Jeremy releases and Jean snatches up to horde for herself, every bit of desire to be a good girl for Jean, keeps Jeremy from diving forward the scant few inches and pressing her mouth against Jean, from moving Jean's fingers out of the way with her desperate mouth.
And then Jean stops playing with her curls and slides delicate fingers down her own body, between her breasts and rubbing the skin pushing out from the cutout, down her toned stomach, and over her panties. "Your treat, for being a good puppy," she says, and presses two fingers to her clit over the fabric and rubs them in slow, teasing circles. She sighs in pleasure that Jeremy knows is mostly faked at that speed. It doesn't matter; it works anyway. Jeremy feels her mouth filling with saliva and she swallows to keep herself from drooling. Jean would probably love it if she did, but she'd also never stop teasing Jeremy about it. "Remember on Valentine's Day, when you wanted me so badly you drooled like the eager little puppy you are?" She'd say.
Jeremy bites her lip. "Please, Jean," she whines.
Jean smiles and reaches over to the dresser. Jeremy hadn't even realized their box has been set on top of it until now, when Jean opens it. Her breath catches as Jean lifts the collar from the box, the leack leather shiny and buttery soft even in the dim light of the room, and she brings it down to rub it against Jeremy's cheek, teasing her.
"You are going to be such a good girl tonight, aren't you?" She asks indulgently. Puppies don't talk, so Jeremy just whines and nods her head. "Already behaving so well," Jean praises in a cooing, condescending voice that never fails to get Jeremy worked up. Jeremy feels the arousal settling from her stomach down to her groin. She raises her head when Jean unlatches the fastening, and holds still while she fits it around Jeremy's neck. The click of it locking into place makes Jeremy's heartbeat stutter.
And then Jean reaches back into the box, and Jeremy thinks she's dreaming. They don't do this part as often.
When Jean pulls out the leash, Jeremy watches it as the red length of it keeps coming until the clasp hits the edge of the box and then swings toward them. Jean catches it just before it hits Jeremy in the face, laughs a little, and then turns the collar until she can hook her fingers in its O-ring. When she snaps the leash into place, Jeremy immediately feels herself start to pull away from her own body, her mind drifting into the free place it gets to go when Jean allows her to be like this.
Jean tilts Jeremy's chin up, scrutinizes her gaze, and smirks at her. "What a good girl," she coos lovingly. She leans back against the wall, then, and winds the slack length of the leash around one hand before tugging Jeremy's face closer to her. Jeremy can feel the body heat radiating off her skin, can smell Jean's arousal strong enough to taste it without even opening her mouth. Jean rubs at her clit a little faster, now, and Jeremy knows the soft, high-pitched, "Mmh," she lets out this time is real. There's a damp spot on the panties when she pulls away and drags those two fingers down the slope of Jeremy's nose, then in a single line along her lips, teasing her with the unattainable temptation of the taste and smell of her.
Jeremy opens her mouth wide as the fingers slide across her lips, in both an inviting plea and because she knows it's expected of her.
"You want me that badly?" Jean asks in a teasing voice. "Go on. You have not earned a taste, yet, but you can touch. Over my outfit," she adds sternly, as though she knows Jeremy wants to slide her fingers right under those panties and straight to her cunt.
Instead, Jeremy slides her hands up Jean's thighs and around to her ass, breath catching when her panty line doesn't appear under her exploring fingers until halfway up her ass cheeks. Jean laughs at her suffering again, and scratches her fingers in Jeremy's hair in fake comfort. Slowly, Jeremy moves her hands up to squeeze Jean's ass and Jean groans in the back of her throat, eyelashes fluttering briefly. Jeremy slides her fingers slowly around Jean's hips and up her tummy, pressing her fingertips into her skin. She can't quite reach Jean's chest, not from where she is right now, but this is enough. She can feel Jean's breath expanding her rib cage under her hands. Somehow, it feels like a gift to Jeremy.
Jean pulls her leash even tighter, and Jeremy's lips brush the fabric of her panties. Jeremy opens her mouth and lays her tongue out flat, but waits, looking up at Jean expectantly. She's a good girl. A good puppy. She knows to wait, and she will, for as long as she needs to.
Jean tests her, holding herself still, and Jeremy's breathing hard and her fingers are digging into Jean's tummy with desperation. Their eyes are locked on each other, Jean's in challenge and Jeremy's in open devotion. Finally, Jean's hips twitch forward and her pubic mound hits Jeremy's tongue and lips, and Jeremy's eyelids flutter close despite trying so hard to keep them open and on Jean as soon as she gets her first real taste of Jean all night.
When Jeremy's eyes open again she's greeted with the glorious sight of Jean's body bowed and curved toward her, and Jean's head thrown back against the wall. Her free hand runs feather-light touches along the tops of her breasts, sometimes dropping to skirt across her hardened nipples. The hand holding the leash keeps Jeremy's face close to her pussy and Jeremy doesn't lick, hasn't been told to yet, so she keeps still and lets Jean rub herself across the length of Jeremy's tongue. The fabric of the panties is rough on her lips, but it's giving her peek-a-boo tastes of Jean's arousal that Jeremy would do anything for. When faced with Jean's desire, fabric scratching along her tongue barely registers. Jeremy's eye is on the prize.
"Good girl," Jean breathes as she basically bounces her pussy against Jeremy's tongue. Jeremy recognizes the French and knows what it means, and her eyes roll back. "Are you ready for a taste, pretty girl? You have earned it."
What Jean means by this is that she wants it now, but Jeremy doesn't care at all. She wants what Jean wants. So Jeremy whines and nods, and her fingers dig into Jean's stomach again, and Jean laughs a little breathlessly. She removes her leg from Jeremy's shoulder and stands on both feet again and releases a bit of the leash so Jeremy has some more slack. "Off," she says, gesturing to her panties.
Jeremy slides her hands down to the waist of the panties and has just tucked her fingers into the edge when the leash is pulled on and Jean makes a tutting sound. Jeremy looks up at Jean, confused and devastated to have displeased her so quickly, and Jean adopts a stern expression and asks, "Where are your paws, toutou?"
Jeremy immediately drops her hands into limp-wristed paws and leans forward to nuzzle apologetically against Jean's thigh. She can't believe she'd forgotten her paws. Graciously, Jean scratches her head in forgiveness, and Jeremy is left unsure how to get her panties off without them. Jean's never asked her to undress her as a puppy before.
"Sit pretty," Jean tells her at long last, when it's clear that Jeremy is floundering, and Jeremy rises up onto her knees, paws in front of her. Jean calls her a good girl and Jeremy's breath shakes. Like this, Jeremy 's face is level with Jean's belly, and Jean tugs at the leash until Jeremy's mouth hits the panties. "Bite," she says next, and Jeremy realizes what she wants from her. With a moan that tapers off into a whine, Jeremy wrestles with the fabric and her lips and tongue until she's got enough of the fabric in her mouth to bite down on it and pull.
She sits, but the panties don't want to come down that easily. Jeremy tugs, but they're caught over the curve of Jean's hip dips, and she can't get them down from where she's at. Whining, she blinks up at Jean, who is watching her while flicking one of her nipples and biting her lip. "Do what you must," she tells her. "Be a good puppy for me."
Jeremy feels almost light-headed at the command, but she licks Jean's knee and rises up again, sitting pretty and leaning to the side of Jean's hip to bite the panties there. Jean's free hand slides down under the panties and she starts touching herself in earnest. The sounds of her fingers moving though her wetness are audible and distracting. The panties slip through Jeremy's teeth and the elastic makes it snap against Jean's skin. Jean jumps just a bit and groans, Jeremy whines in apology and desperation, and then Jean gasps in that specific way that Jeremy knows she only does when she's being penetrated.
Jeremy attacks the panties with renewed vigor as Jean's back arches off the wall and she moans Jeremy's name.
"Oh, yes, good girl, yes — just like that, what a good puppy!" The mix of English and French rolls off her tongue easily and Jeremy nearly sobs as she finally gets the panties over the swell of Jean's ass and hips and thighs and they fall to her feet.
Jean doesn't waste a single moment. As soon as the panties hit the floor, Jean slings her leg back up over Jeremy's shoulder and tugs the leash tight. "Good girl," she praises, voice shaking with her arousal. "Come get your treat." She pulls two fingers out of her dripping cunt and uses them to spread herself wide open for Jeremy, who lets herself be yanked in tight against her body.
Jeremy immediately starts lapping at her, groaning and whimpering as she finally gets an unobstructed taste of Jean's pussy. Tears spring to her closed eyes as she revels in being a good girl, as she brings Jean pleasure with her eager tongue, as she keeps her paws to herself and her collar tugs against the back of her neck when Jean can't get enough of what she's doing.
Jeremy swipes her tongue, flat and broad, over the mess Jean's made of herself. Jean sucks in a breath through her teeth and she looks down at Jeremy with her brows furrowed in pleasure. Jean pulls Jeremy's leash even tighter, winding the cord around her hand one more time, and Jeremy couldn't move from her place between Jean's thighs even if hell froze over and she found herself wanting to.
She loves it.
Her moan against Jean's clit has Jean letting loose a high-pitched, strained, "Uh!" that makes Jeremy's lashes flutter, and she moans again just to see if she can make Jean do it again. Jean does, and her rocking becomes urgent. "Just — just the clit now, good — ah! — yes, good girl, mon toutou," Jean's voice cracks as Jeremy obeys and focuses all her attention on Jean's clit.
Jeremy feels her own wetness against her skin from the soaked and cold fabric of her briefs when she shifts on her knees to press her face into Jean's body more as she sucks Jean's clit into her mouth and swirls her tongue around it, flickering the tip against her rapidly. She moans loud when Jean's hand finds the roots of her hair and tightens hard. The sharp pain takes Jeremy even further from herself and she loses herself in nothing but licking at her treat and Jean calling her a good girl distantly.
"Jere— fuck! Yes, good — yes, Jeremy, yes, don't stop!" Jean's body heaves against Jeremy's mouth and she lets it, lets Jean's thigh shake on her shoulder, lets Jean's hips fuck up into her mouth almost painfully, lets Jean pull her collar tighter even as there's nowhere else to go. All she focuses on is licking up the mess as Jean comes, her voice crying out and cracking and straining. Jean squirts on Jeremy's face and covers her skin, and Jeremy moans and continues licking Jean clean, licking up the taste of Jean's orgasm, her pleasure, evidence of Jeremy's enthusiastic obedience.
Jean's orgasm slides across her cheeks and down her neck, even into her hair, and Jeremy can't even think beyond the urge to continue licking Jean clean, to continue pleasing Jean. Eventually, Jean gets sensitive and she gasps and pulls Jeremy away, and Jeremy whines but allows it because it's what Jean wants, and that's all that matters. Also because Jean says, "Enough," and oh, that's a command, right there.
Jean's leg falls off Jeremy's shoulder and she heaves gasping breaths against the wall, holding Jeremy away from her body with a tight grip on the taut leash, like she knows Jeremy wants to be right back between her thighs if she'd let her. It's true enough, or it would be if Jean hadn't told her to stop, but Jeremy's a good girl and she has been told to stop, so she won't move from her spot until Jean wants her to.
Jean presses a hand to her forehead, and then shoves her hair away from where it's fallen into her face, and then pants, "Good girl, Jeremy, that was —" she pauses to swallow and her breath comes out garbled and strained. She reaches a hand down to cup Jeremy's cheek and strokes her thumb against Jeremy's face when she leans into it. "That was very good. Good girl."
Jeremy's eyes close in happiness and she feels complete, until Jean slides a foot between Jeremy's thighs and presses it against her clit. Jeremy's eyes fly open then, and she looks up to Jean with astonishment, having completely forgotten her own arousal.
"Oh, baby girl," Jean says in a faux-shocked voice that has Jeremy burning hot with shame. "You've made a mess in your pretty briefs! I can feel it, even through two layers. You are so dirty."
Jeremy whines, and Jean's lips curve back into that cruel smile. She takes another deep breath, grabs the box from the dresser, and then says, "Come, let's go to the bed, pretty girl."
Jeremy hurries to turn around when Jean pushes off the wall, knowing from experience that Jean will not wait for her to crawl slowly, and Jeremy sits on her knees when she reaches the bed, putting her hands on the mattress but not climbing up until she's invited. Jean pats the mattress and says, "Up," and Jeremy gets up there.
Jeremy sits on the bed, opting to lounge on her butt instead of on her knees and shins, since Jean doesn't mind either way as long as she's sitting. She watches as Jean grabs a grinding pad out of the box and tries not to squirm while Jean puts it on her thigh, right on the heart on the hem of her stocking. Jeremy's throat goes dry as Jean picks the leash back up and tugs at her, scooting herself backwards up the bed at the same time. Jeremy follows and when Jean stills, leaning back against the headboard with pillows behind her at a sloped angle, Jeremy waits.
Jean pats her thigh and says, "Up, Jeremy."
Jeremy swallows her whine and shifts until she's straddling Jean's thigh and hovering over the grinding pad but not resting on it. Jean pushes down her bra so that her breasts spill completely over the fabric and Jeremy stares, open-mouthed. She's so distracted she doesn't even have time to wipe the spit before it falls from her mouth and onto Jean's stomach.
There's a moment of stunned silence before Jean laughs and wipes her thumb across Jeremy's mouth for her. "Oh, dear," she teases, voice full of mirth. "My messy puppy." Jeremy whines, face heating in embarrassment as she reaches to wipe it off only to remember at the last minute that puppies don't have hands to clean up their messes. She'll have to clean it up with her tongue.
She's shifting to bend down to lick up her mess when Jean grabs her by the jaw and lifts her face to meet her gaze. "I did not tell you to clean it up," she corrects. Jeremy blinks and nods. "You have a reward to chase, no? I will not ask again. Up."
Jeremy scrambles to shift back into place and rest her groin onto the pad. Its textured face feels amazing to Jeremy before she even moves, and she groans, throwing her head back and sitting upright.
Suddenly, Jean pulls on the leash and Jeremy is brought lurching down against Jean's body, nearly collapsing on top of her. Jeremy looks at Jean in confusion — she'd just asked Jeremy to get off, and that's what she was doing — when Jean clicks her tongue at her again. "Puppies cannot sit up like that, chouchou," she says. "If you want to come, do it right."
Heat, embarrassment, shame, and desire wrack through Jeremy as she realizes Jean's asking her to…hump her leg. Slowly, hesitantly, Jeremy moves her hips and rubs against the pad, its textures stimulating her clit unevenly as she ruts against Jean, her breath straining at the sensation and the mental humiliation of what she's doing playing over and over in her head.
"What a good girl," Jean praises, the hand not holding her leash rubbing over Jeremy's body. She slides her fingers through the low-cut slits in the side seam of Jeremy's muscle tee and caresses Jeremy's side and breast until her fingers find one of Jeremy's nipples and she pinches it, making Jeremy's rutting rhythm falter as she gasps. "Do not stop now," Jean teases her. "Keep going."
Jeremy whines and moans, her breath shuddering against Jean's skin, bent over her as she is. Every rock of her hips has Jeremy's core flexing and shooting searing pleasure up her body, coiling like a hot snake in her belly. The grinding pad is more often used for Jean when she's not feeling penetration, and Jeremy understands now why she likes it so much. It's divine, and using it in this way — to help her hump her owner's leg like the desperate bi—
"You are so noisy," Jean complains. Her fingers leave Jeremy's nipple and cup one of her own breasts, holding it steady as she pulls on the leash until Jeremy's face slides to it. Jeremy opens her mouth to let out a sob of arousal before it's filled with Jean's nipple, areola, and the pale skin of her breast, and Jeremy immediately groans and starts sucking on it. The heady arousal of Jean allowing Jeremy to have such a perfect breast in her mouth has Jeremy humping Jean's thigh with abandon, her orgasm quickly approaching after the sheer heat of the night thus far.
As Jeremy rocks against Jean, her knee grazes Jean's clit and the stimulation brings out gorgeous, throaty moan. Jean eventually reaches a hand down to circle her own clit more efficiently, apparently having decided she wants another orgasm. Jeremy humps her owner's thigh and mouths at her nipple as she whines, her orgasm finally breaking. Jean's back arches up off the bed just as Jeremy's orgasm starts to rachet up. Jean pulls the leash so tight that Jeremy is pulled off and away from Jean's nipple, and up to her face, and Jean kisses her hot and dirty as Jeremy shakes on her thigh, shaking moans spilling into her mouth. Jeremy's briefs are now well and truly fucked, and she doesn't even care because Jean is pulling away and Jeremy's face is left to fall to her porcelain collarbones. She scrapes her teeth against them as she moans and pants onto Jean's skin, still shaking sporadically.
Jean's second orgasm is fast to follow, surprising both of them. When Jeremy looks up to watch her come, she finds Jean already staring down at her, eyes dark with arousal and pride. Jeremy whimpers and licks her collarbone again with a flat tongue, and Jean's lashes flutter as she presses her lips together and whimpers through it. Jeremy's still idly rubbing herself against Jean's leg when Jean finally goes limp, and she pats Jeremy's butt and says, "Off."
Jeremy rolls off her thigh and onto the bed, laying on her side to stare at Jean. Jean sits up and takes off the grinding pad, tossing it to the floor for later clean-up, and then rolls over to face Jeremy. She brings her soaked hand to Jeremy's mouth and Jeremy opens it obediently, groaning and eyes rolling back, both at the taste of her orgasm on Jean's fingers and the act of sucking them. When the fingers are clean, though, Jean removes them and instead cups Jeremy's face, tenderly scratching her cheek with her long nails. Jeremy looks at Jean and sees her own gaze reflected back at her in her eyes.
"I love how you look at me," Jean whispers, rubbing a thumb over one of Jeremy's eyelids, forcing it closed for a moment. Jeremy blinks at her, adoring and reverent, and she smiles and leans forward to press a soft, sweet kiss to Jeremy's lips. When she pulls away, she says quietly, like she doesn't want to disturb the peace that's settled in the room, "I'm going to take off your leash now. Are you ready for your collar to come off, or would you like it to stay on just a little longer?"
Jeremy blinks but she finds she can't talk yet — puppies don't talk, after all — and whines. It's not her job to make decisions, and she finds she can't. Luckily, Jean seems to understand that, because she chuckles and boops Jeremy's nose. "What a pretty puppy," she coos. "I will leave your collar on until you get sleepy, but you cannot sleep with it on, understand?" Jeremy nods, and Jean unclips the leash. Something about that breaks Jeremy's heart a little bit, but she scoots closer to Jean and lets her snuggle her up, Jean sneaking her hand through the long slits in Jeremy's side and scratching her back with the tips of those nails.
"We will need to shower soon," Jean tells her softly. "We made a mess." Jeremy licks her cheek and she laughs, scratching her head. "Yes, mon toutou, you did a good job of cleaning up. I am very impressed with your behavior tonight." Jeremy sighs and settles her face into the crook of Jean's neck.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Jeremy," Jean whispers. "I love you very much."
Jeremy doesn't have her words back yet, but she'll say them soon. Soon, when they'll get up, and they'll shower and rub each other's muscles and change the sheets and clean the grinding pad and wipe off the collar and leash just to be thorough and crawl back into bed. They'll kiss until they fall asleep in one another's arms, and sleep like the dead. Soon, but not now. Right now, Jean kisses Jeremy's forehead and she nuzzles impossibly closer, arms and legs tangled up in her girlfriend's embrace.