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A hand winds its way around her waist, warm insistent heat pressing up against her back and Caitlyn doesn’t have to turn to know who it is that dares come so close in this bar as the familiar scent fills her senses, mixed with the telltale sharpness of alcohol. She lowers her drink to the nearest counter.
She knows what is coming next.
Vi takes her free hand in hers, slowly pulling it down, back, between them, twining their fingers together. It looks innocent, or as innocent as it can look, but Caitlyn knows where their fingertips are going, feels the stiffness and the heat even through the material of Vi’s pants. A smile goes to Caitlyn’s lips but she does nothing more than turn her head just so slightly, just enough so she can see Vi’s face out the corner of her eye.
There’s not much to see because lips land on the bare expanse of her neck, teeth already working against her skin.
“Vi,” she says.
Vi pauses and a dilated grey pupil meets hers.
Ah. So that’s what this is about.
“Come,” says Caitlyn as she pushes firmly at Vi’s hands which are, unsurprisingly already trying to work their way under her skirt.
The smile shifts, tilts a little into a glint of mischief.
“Not here.”
“Can’t wait,” Vi mutters against her skin the moment they step out of the bar, drinkhole, whatever a place like that is called. “Want—”
“I know,” Caitlyn says and she pushes Vi back, pushes Vi away from her up against what looks like a dry part of the wall. There isn’t anyone here, but she’s not particularly sure she would care as long as there isn’t a crowd. There’s nothing that they’re doing that she’d be embarrassed about. Her hands go to Vi’s waistband, unfastening her pants before any complaints can fall from those lips.
Vi snorts but there isn’t any fight in her because she understands.
“Fuck,” Vi mutters as Caitlyn’s hand dips into her boxer shorts, freeing her cock. “God, I never—”
A sharp hiss as she closes fingers around Vi, hot and hard.
“Your rut isn’t til tomorrow.”
“Guess it came early,” Vi growls out between pumps of Caitlyn’s fingers on her. Strong, thick fingers close over her elbow, pulling her closer and Vi doesn’t ask, doesn’t have to ask, never has to ask as she pulls Caitlyn down to her in a kiss.
There’s nothing soft about this, nothing tender—it’s nipping teeth and aggressive tongues and the hunger that sits deep in their chests clawing for an out, the scent of arousal hot and heavy in the air. The sounds of their lips meeting and parting mingle with the slicking of Cait’s hand over Vi’s cock, dripping in the cool air.
Vi groans now, hips jerky, trying as Caitlyn knows she always does to chase the friction and the contact. Her eyes are shut and her stomach taut, fingers trembling so, so close. She’s a fucking vision and Caitlyn delights in these moments when Vi cracks in her hands.
“Is this what you want?”
Vi’s eyes crack open, her lips parting as she pants, as Caitlyn’s fingers slow to a torturous rhythm. Vi’s cock twitches and it’s an absolute mess, sticky clear and so fucking wet.
“I said,” Caitlyn smirks. “Is this what you want, Vi?”
“You’re so...”
She raises an eyebrow.
“Your fucking mouth,” Vi growls and Caitlyn laughs.
“Shit,” Vi gasps.
It’s so fucking unfair how good Cait at this. Real fucking unfair how she looks up at Vi through those stupid long lashes, that smug look in those sky blue eyes even as she swallows around Vi’s cock, even as her throat muscles work their ridiculous magic, hot and tight and so, so fucking good.
Vi’s brain is shot to quivering pieces with each brush of Cait’s throat on the head of her cock, liquid fire pouring through her veins. Her fingers wind through the soft silky hair and she can’t help herself, she pulls, wants more and draws a warning growl in return.
Her hips thrust and then there’s the lightest brush of teeth on her shaft, a warning that should stop her but only sparks pinpricks of pure fucking heat up the back of her spine.
“Fuck,” she breathes. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
She’s close, she’s been close this whole time, she’s so, so fucking close.
Cait’s fingers, those damn things that know her so well, they play on the base of her shaft, light brushes against the skin and the sensations they mix and they meld into a splash of color so bright she can almost see it with her eyes wide open. Cait takes her even deeper now, molten heat almost all the way down—it’s like she knows and it’s not fucking fair.
Her lips, soft and burning hot, the sounds they make against the growing bump of her knot are filthy and there’s nothing Cait ever does that Vi could ever really call sloppy but the wetness that she brings, that she trails over Vi’s cock, as it cools in the air with each bob of her head, each shift of her mouth on Vi’s skin, it tickles in just the right ways.
Cait drives her insane.
Cait always has, always does, always will, but now of all times, now in all moments, with her cock in Cait’s mouth, as Cait kneels on the floor, silk of her long skirt pooled around her knees, eyes fixed so intently on Vi’s it’s like there’s nothing but them in the world, now Cait takes her heart in her hands, squeezes it in time with the tightness of her throat.
Her hips thrust now and her grip tightens on Cait’s head because her knot is growing and she needs to, needs to—
A strong hand closes over her shaft, wraps itself around the bulge of her knot stopping her and it is a shot of pure horror, the falling out of the bottom of Vi’s stomach when Cait pulls her mouth off of her. The cool air hits the wetness of her cock and Vi wants almost to scream.
She reaches down, reaches for Cait’s chin but now a hand grabs her wrist, pushing her away.
Cait’s voice is low, hoarse, but there’s a sharp edge to it.
“Not here,” says Cait as she gets to her feet and lets Vi’s cock go, weeping and so hard she thinks she might crumble into a million uncountable pieces if anything more than the air touches it.
Cait smooths her skirt down and if not for the smear of her lipstick, it would be impossible to tell that she’d just done anything more than step out of the house. “Pack that up. We’re going home.”
Vi moans, doesn’t give a shit how pathetic that sounds because she’s never, never, never wanted anything more.
“I’m going to die,” Vi pants.
“You’re being dramatic.” Caitlyn rolls her eyes. “You’re not going to die.”
Vi is feverish, flushed, hands trembling where her fists are clenched in her lap. Caitlyn shifts her eyes from the road ahead to spare a glance to the cock that stands tall and curved, almost purple, veins bulging.
“I need you.”
“I know,” she says, keeping her voice as calm as she can, even as the tone of Vi’s voice stirs something in her, even as she can taste the salt and the earth on her tongue, can smell the almost overwhelming scent of spice and desire that fills the air between them.
“No, Cait, I—”
“I said I know,” she says. “But you wanted my mouth and that’s what you got.”
“You’re an ass.”
“And you’re the one dying to fuck me.”
Vi lets out a shaky breath. “I can’t hold on. I can’t.”
Caitlyn pulls the car to a halt at the light as signalled and she brushes the tip of Vi’s cock with the knuckles of her fingers. Vi hisses and her hips thrust up into nothingness, her face contorting.
“You will,” Cait says. She pulls her hand away.
Vi chokes on air.
“Be good,” Cait says as her feet shift on the pedals, as they accelerate off towards home. “Be good for me, Vi.”
Vi’s next breath is almost a sob but she obeys.
The door clicks shut behind them and Vi’s face is pressed into the curve of her neck, Vi’s hands pushing her back against the cool smooth marble wall. Caitlyn’s dress is a thin, silky number, a deep almost black navy that shimmers in the dim light filtering in through the glass from the city below and it slips easily off of her shoulders once Vi’s fingers dip back and unzip her.
“Cait, please,” Vi breathes into her skin, hands not stopping for a moment as they splay their way across the skin that comes exposed. “Please, please, please, I want you so bad.”
Caitlyn kisses her, takes her lips with her own and Vi surges closer, her desperation clear in the press of their lips, in the sounds that leak from the corners, the spaces between their skin.
She kisses the answer on Vi’s mouth, hands winding up into the spikes of pink hair, curling around the strands and pulling. Vi groans into the kiss, the rumble in her chest reverberating between them out into the silence of the apartment too dark and too quiet, Vi’s impatience doesn’t need lights or sounds, it just needs Caitlyn.
Vi’s fingers have her underwear around her knees, shaking fingers spreading the wetness that had been barely held back by the thin cloth. It drips, drips down the side of her inner thighs, slick and smooth and there’s almost a sob in Vi’s throat that Caitlyn swallows when Vi presses a finger inside.
She would almost laugh if she could, but the effects of the suppressors she’s on are wearing off now too that Vi’s scent is thick and she can breathe nothing more and she’s been wet ever since Vi took her hand in hers and placed it on her cock what feels almost like hours ago.
She’s been ready since they dressed up for dinner, since they skipped out of the ridiculously tiny desserts, since they headed down to the undercity for drinks.
Caitlyn has wanted to fuck Vi all evening and so it’s almost laughable that Vi’s checking if she’s ready as if it matters with how wet both of them are.
She pulls Vi’s hair harder, bites down on Vi’s lip and this brings those hazy grey eyes back into focus on hers.
Caitlyn breaks the kiss for a moment, admiring the line of spit that stretches between them before she smirks.
“What are you waiting for?”
She moans as Vi bottoms out in her because god, they’ve done this a million times in a million places and she’ll never, never, never tire of the feel of Vi’s cock, of the way the stretch presses up into her and against her something sore and something sweet in the burn.
“God,” Vi’s gasp is drawn out as she comes to a halt and doesn’t move. “Fuck, you’re so good.”
Caitlyn clenches down on Vi and the breath that falls from Vi’s lips is choked off, almost strangled.
“Cait, I—”
“Fuck me already,” Caitlyn hisses, thrusting back on Vi. “All that talk of dying and you—”
Now it is her turn to have the breath fucked from her lungs at the shift of Vi within her and it’s terrible how for a moment she wishes they weren’t both so wet so she could feel more of Vi’s skin on her, in her.
Then the thought is literally fucked from her head as Vi thrusts, her cock reaching places deep inside Caitlyn, exactly what she’s been wanting this whole time and it feels so incredibly good, the way Vi shakes and trembles, close but insistent the way Vi knows she needs.
Still she can tell, in the spare moments between the movements when her mind belongs to her and not to the cock inside her, that Vi’s holding herself back, that for some stupid, ridiculous reason Vi’s still not giving her what she wants, what they both want.
“Vi,” she gasps, the single syllable escaping between moans. “I need you.”
Vi’s eyes snap open and the fire with them has blown her pupils out so wide Caitlyn can barely see her beloved grey but she doesn’t have the presence of mind to say anything because Vi’s growl steals the breath from her lungs, Vi’s lips crash down on hers and Vi takes, takes, takes whatever she wants.
It’s all Caitlyn wants her do to as she gives herself over to Vi’s capable, capable loving hands, as she lets Vi push further into her than it feels like she’s ever been before.
There’s a strong pressure now and Vi’s movements turn almost frantic, the sounds that spill from her throat urgent, the vibrations traveling to her in the paths drawn on the places their skin meet. The kiss turns sloppy but Caitlyn doesn’t care, can’t find it in herself to give a damn because it feels like all she is is the part that’s connected to Vi, that all that matters is what she can give, how much of Vi she can take.
It’s a spark of pure euphoria when Vi finally pushes all the way into her, the thick girth of her knot sliding in and Caitlyn tumbles off the edge, the pressure giving way only to press perfectly against her. She sobs, the burst of sensation so overwhelming she can barely hear Vi’s desperate moan, doesn’t catch the way Vi trembles.
But she feels Vi throb in her, feels Vi’s shudder all the way down to the tips of her toes, the heat of Vi’s release flooding warm in her and this takes her heart and fills it so full it feels like it might burst, might snap, might crack into pieces unmeasurable.
Vi doesn’t say anything with meaning, the jumbled syllables mixing with breaths into sounds that Caitlyn doesn’t listen to with her ears but with her soul, as she comes slowly down from her own high to Vi’s forehead pressed to hers, breath fanning out warm and perfect over their skin.
“Hey,” she whispers.
It’s a single rumble and Caitlyn smiles, a hand reaching up to pull Vi down to her, pulling her weight to rest on hers, pressing them both further into the bed. A soft kiss, not too soft as she nips on Vi’s lip and the next rumble is the beginning of a laugh, she knows, she knows, she knows.
“Mine,” Vi says and it should be a haze, a cloud of rut hanging over her but there’s nothing besides a startling clarity in those eyes drawn slightly in a tension that matches the fluttering of her heart. She loves her, Caitlyn realizes anew.
She does, she does, she does.
So Caitlyn kisses her, kisses her deep, kisses the sounds away, kisses like it’ll say everything for her that she wants to say and it’s strange to taste salt and sugar, the mixture of their scents on Vi’s tongue instead of the tang of their fluids as it usually would be, but it’s a flavor she minds no less.
Vi breaks the kiss first and the way Vi looks at her feels like it should crush her heart with its weight but it doesn’t.
“Mine,” says Caitlyn and she clenches down on Vi still in her.
A choked gasp and then a laugh bubbles from Vi’s throat.
“Yours,” says Vi, lips on her skin, already stirring to hardness again. “Yes, I’m yours.”