(2016 words)
[filthiest smut in this book so far]
—
Movie night was going well.
Until Villanelle had pushed Eve's robe off of her shoulders and kissed her while she was getting more snacks.
The popcorn was left on the counter as Eve shoved the blonde towards their bedroom, lips still attached to Villanelle's.
When Villanelle refused to compliment herself at Eve's request, she found herself restrained with her hands behind her back while Eve began to torture her for a good forty minutes.
Eve played with her tits until they were red and sensitive, left marks where she pleased, kissed her until her lips were swollen, and touched her everywhere except for where Villanelle needed her most.
Eve twists a fistful of blonde hair roughly, eliciting a sharp groan from Villanelle's throat. She tugs against her restraints to no avail, the satin of Eve's robe tie sliding against her wrists.
"Who's my sweet girl?" Eve leans in close to brush their lips together, smiling at the whine that comes with the question. It's the same question that's been asked over and over again.
Villanelle gasps as Eve sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. Her body is trembling, having been teased almost to the breaking point. She aches, she pants, she cries.
And she loves it.
"Me," she finally admits, embarrassment flushing her face red. No matter how much Eve has her do it, complimenting herself always feels strange.
"Come on, Vil," Eve sighs, trailing wet lips across her face. One of her hands begin to slip down her chest. "I know you can do better than that."
Villanelle's hips kick with a whimper as Eve pinches roughly at a nipple before kneading the flesh gently. "Who's my sweet girl?"
"Me, Eve. I'm your sweet girl, please," Villanelle arches her back and pushes her chest into Eve's hand despite the sensitivity of her breasts.
The hand releases her hair, and Villanelle cranes her neck just in time to see Eve pull her other breast into her mouth, digging her head back into the sheets with a moan.
Eve trails her hands down, leaving bites and kisses along Villanelle's abdomen. Two hands on the inside of her knees spread her legs apart, leaving her gasping as the outside air hits the arousal coating her thighs.
"Look at you," Eve sighs, rubbing at the inside of her thighs and blowing gently on her clit. The breath sends a chill up Villanelle's spine. "All spread and wet and waiting, so patiently, for me to touch you."
Villanelle nods vigorously, trying to lift her hips, but Eve keeps her body down, pressing teasing kisses across her lips, the neatly trimmed hair, but avoiding her clit.
"God," Villanelle moans, teeth biting hard at her bottom lip. "Please, Eve. Please."
The vibrations of Eve's laugh between her legs alone make her spine arch.
"Come on, love," Eve coos. "I know you can beg better than that."
A finger teases her entrance, her whine echoing through the room as Eve spreads her wetness down in thick stripes.
Villanelle's chest rises and falls erratically as she pants, her arms beginning to ache from being restrained. The ache only adds to the pressure pooling below her stomach. "Please, Eve. I-I'll do anything, okay? I'll fuck you for hours, o-or let you do anything to me anywhere, baby, please."
