(1280 words)
[smut]
—
"I'm expensive," she whispers, trailing the knife down Eve's chest, the tip digging into her skin. It isn't hard enough to draw blood, but the look in Villanelle's eyes says that she wants it to be, and Eve can't help but wish subconsciously that Villanelle would carve whatever she wants on that skin.
"I know," Eve says, her voice wavering as Villanelle's hand tightens against her waist.
The assassin's eyes trail down Eve's body, a small smile appearing on her lips. "Will you give me everything I want?"
Even if she didn't have a knife pressed against her chest, Eve's answer would've been the same. Villanelle is intoxicating, every movement of the knife sending tingles of anticipation throughout Eve's body. She can't deny the tension—sexual tension—between them.
"Yes."
The knife clatters to the floor, and Villanelle pulls Eve in fully, pressing their lips together. She is soft and warm, contrary to her actions moments earlier. Her hands fly up to frame Eve's face, who hardly realizes that she's kissing Villanelle back, her own hands finding their way across the body she's admired for so long.
Eve traces Villanelle's hips, up the frame of her chest, to her shoulders, feeling the muscles flex underneath the black fabric. They've begun dancing now and cannot stop; Villanelle pulls Eve up from the sink and walks her towards the counter, lifting the smaller woman up easily and setting her down, their height balanced now.
Eve presses her fingernails into Villanelle's back, wanting to hurt her even in this situation, but Villanelle makes a sound that sounds like a groan, and the sound sends shock waves down her body until they reach the pit of her stomach.
Their lips part finally, leaving them both gasping for air, eyes meeting once again. They're both panting, foreheads pressed together, the taste of each other imprinted on their lips.
"I stabbed you," Eve breathes, pressing a hand to where the wound—now a scar—was and feeling Villanelle shudder under her touch.
"I know," the assassin whispers, running one of her hands through Eve's hair, the other at the back of her neck to pull Eve back into the kiss.
Eve pulls at the tie in Villanelle's hair, freeing the blonde locks, pulling and messing with them to hear Villanelle inhale sharply against her skin. Her hands skim the bottom of Eve's shirt, asking silently even though she was so rough not even five minutes ago.
Eve pulls her arms above her head and lets Villanelle pull her shirt off and press kisses to her shoulders and chest, her lips tickling Eve's skin. Eve didn't have to ask Villanelle to do the same; the assassin pulls away to peel the dress off slowly, eyes gleaming as she watches Eve trace the outline of her body with her eyes.
"Do you want me, Eve?" she whispers, pushing Eve's legs apart to settle herself in front of her eyes. The older woman's mouth is parted slightly as she watches Villanelle begin to undo the button of her jeans.
"Yes," Eve admits, wrapping her legs around the blonde and pressing a hand to her cheek. "Yes, Villanelle."
A grin spreads across Villanelle's face, and she picks Eve up, connecting their lips again. Eve spreads her hands through Villanelle's hair, eliciting a low groan from the assassin's throat as she carries Eve to her bedroom, laying her down and pulling Eve's pants—along with her underwear— down to her ankles.
Eve's bra is next, the fabric disappearing quickly, replaced with Villanelle's teeth and lips. Eve is able to unhook the assassin's bra, too and pulls her up to kiss her messily, their chests brushing, skin against skin.
Eve sits up, the fullness of her body against Villanelle, who chuckles into her mouth and slides a hand down to grope the other woman's ass, relishing in the sound of Eve's soft moans. Her other hand scratches gentle lines against Eve's back, who arches her back to press her body somehow closer to her.
Villanelle finally slides a hand down to Eve's clit, now throbbing with anticipation. She moans fully into Villanelle's mouth as the blonde begins to rub small circles with her thumb, her second finger slipping inside of Eve easily.
"More," Eve gasps, hands wrapping around Villanelle's back, who pants against her mouth and complies, another finger disappearing and curling perfectly inside of her.
Villanelle moves her lips down to Eve's neck, biting hickeys into her skin, before trailing her lips up to Eve's ear. Eve shudders as Villanelle slows her pace to whisper into her ear.
"You're tense," she observes, teeth digging into the skin of Eve's earlobe. "Let me help you, Eve."
Something about the way her own name slides off of that tongue, makes the tension in Eve's body build greater and greater. Villanelle's fingers curl again, sending a wave of pleasure throughout Eve's body again, but it's not enough to satisfy her.
"You should let yourself go every once in a while," Villanelle purrs in her ear, the vibrations in her throat sending tingles down Eve's spine. "I can help you."
Villanelle sighs into her ear, the sound making Eve wonder what it would sound like if the roles were reversed, and it was Eve who was teasing her like this.
"Yes," she agrees, rolling her hips to push Villanelle's fingers deeper into her, breaths growing heavier. "Please, Villanelle."
The assassin chuckles darkly, increasing her speed and letting Eve straddle her, pushing her fingers in to the knuckles and curling her fingers to Eve's rhythm; all while rubbing Eve's clit with her thumb.
"Villanelle," Eve moans, wrapping her arms around the Villanelle's neck as the blonde presses kisses against her chest, sucking on a nipple gently. Eve's nails dig into Villanelle's back as she approaches her high.
Villanelle groans against Eve's skin, both from the noises Eve is making and the feeling of her own skin tearing underneath Eve's nails.
It isn't long before Eve gasps against Villanelle, her body releasing the tension in her body, mouth agape as Villanelle continues her pace relentlessly to extend her orgasm. "You're beautiful," she murmurs, finally slowing as Eve begins to unwind, her breath coming out in pants.
Villanelle lifts Eve to lay down next to her face to face, watching as she calms from her high. The assassin lays a hand against Eve's cheek, whispering again, "You're beautiful."
"I stabbed you," Eve breathes, a hand pressing against the wound again, eyebrows knitted in horror.
"Hey," Villanelle presses her forehead against Eve's, inhaling the smell of her shampoo. "It's okay. I'm okay."
"I thought you were dead, up until that kid showed up with the apple in his hand," Eve shudders. "I-I thought you would kill me."
"Eve..."
"I stabbed you," Eve whispers again. "Villanelle—"
The assassin cuts her off, molding their lips together again. "It happened," she says against the older woman's lips. "It's over."
She smiles at Eve, placing her hand on top of the one Eve has on her scar. "You didn't kill me. You cared enough to not kill me—to not finish the job. I know you didn't mean it."
"I did," Eve chuckles a little. "At the time, I meant it so much. I wanted to watch you die, and here you are!" Her laughter grows until Villanelle is grinning along with her, the irony of the situation becoming apparent.
"Who's the psychopath now?" she laughs under her breath as she watches Eve laugh for what feels like the first time since she's stabbed her.
just imagine jodie comer whispering this in your ear thank you and goodbye - author
