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No one was immune to a lackluster workday, not an enforcer, not a councilor’s daughter, not even Caitlyn Kiramman.
Vi was waiting by the door when she arrived, still holed up in Caitlyn’s bedroom, not quite ready to assimilate into the Kiramman family dynamics despite Tobias assuring her she was welcome, despite Cassandra making it clear with sideways glances and snide remarks that she perhaps never would be.
“Hey, Cupcake,” Vi grinned, slipping a hand around Cait’s waist, face flushed, eyes hazy, hair slightly damp from sweat at her temples, dressed in simply the chest bandages she called a bra and a baggy pair of pants she’d seemed to designate for exercise.
The image was nearly attractive enough to distract Caitlyn from her earlier frustration.
Nearly.
Caitlyn pressed a chaste kiss to Vi’s cheek before walking past her, feeling Vi’s grip slip away. “Has dinner been served yet? I realize I’m late.”
“Uh,” Vi cleared her throat, following behind her somewhat gingerly. “No, I don’t know. I was thinking, maybe I could have dessert first?”
“I’m sure there are pastries to graze on in the kitchen,” Cait unfastened her own belt, dumping her hat unceremoniously on one of her oversized shooting trophies, very much looking forward to being rid of her uniform for the night, to strip herself of the reminder of just how powerless she was, in the grand scheme of things.
Vi trailed a gentle finger down the length of Cait’s spine, Caitlyn instantly straightening at the sensation. “Was kinda…in the mood for a cupcake. Know where I could find one?”
“Violet…” how comically predictable.
“Can I have a taste?” Vi had one hand on her waist now, the other brushing Cait’s hair away from her neck so that she could press a kiss to the sensitive skin there, suck a bruise into her just above her high collar, soothe it with her tongue.
Caitlyn felt her breath hitch of its own accord, the day’s little inconveniences beginning to melt away, Vi’s influence taking hold.
“That a yes?” Vi wondered, spinning her around, pushing her against the dresser in front of her trophy shelf like she weighed nothing, something hard and insistent pressing into Caitlyn’s upper thigh where their bodies met.
She hadn’t been expecting…that.
“Happy to see me?” Cait asked, fighting a losing battle to the blush in her cheeks, the tingling heat beneath her skin.
Want, unadulterated. Immediate and distracting.
“Been thinking about you all day…” Vi admitted with a crooked smirk, nipping playfully at Cait’s earlobe, the hinge of her jaw, sharp teeth tracing her contours. “Got pretty worked up.”
“Oh?” Caitlyn squeaked.
“I’ve had this thing inside me for like an hour,” Vi laughed breathlessly, rocking her hips into Cait’s, seeking friction.
“Violet, it’s extremely taxing on your nervous system, Viktor warned—,”
“Then be a good girl and let me fuck you so I can take it out.”
Caitlyn felt her panties dampen at Vi’s crass language, her instance, her need. What a pitiful defense, Ms. Kiramman. “You want me?” she challenged, knowing the answer but needing to hear it in Vi’s feminine rasp. Wanting to hear everything Vi had been up to since she’d departed. Wanting to hear how wet she’d been pressing the toy inside herself. Had she moaned? Had she called out to her? Had she been thinking of Caitlyn this whole time? Her wet heat, her tightness…what position had she imagined them in while touching herself? While stroking, thrusting, sweating, waiting…
“So bad, baby,” Vi bit into her neck, Cait moaned. “Let me fuck you, I need to come, I wanna make you come.”
“Have you been good?”
“No,” Vi answered quickly, rucking Caitlyn’s skirt up her thighs, wrinkling her immaculate uniform, snapping her garters open. “I’ve been bad, Cait. I’ve been impatient. This is the shit you do to me.”
“So your insolence is my fault now?”
“What, am I supposed to control myself with you looking like this?” Vi slammed Cait’s hips back when she attempted to arch into her, robbing her of contact. “And then you leave me alone here all day…”
“I have a job, Vi,” Caitlyn grabbed a fistful of Vi’s short hair, yanking her into a bruising kiss, wet and hot and wanting, sucking, nipping, licking. “I’m sorry I can’t be around to constantly entertain you.”
“I am too,” Vi lamented, scratching a deep line up the inside of Cait’s creamy thigh with blunt nails. “But you’d probably be walking with a limp at this point.”
“Vi!” Cait gasped when Vi ripped the cravat from her neck, tossing the once proud fabric aside with a callous disregard, leaning in to bite down on the flushed skin she’d revealed.
“Shitty day?”
Caitlyn’s eyes rolled back in her head, surrendering to Vi’s whim, will—to Vi. Wanting to feel all of her, to give herself over. “You have no idea.”
“Wanna tell me about it?” Vi pressed teasingly into the dampness of Cait’s panties, “I’m all ears.”
“You seem a titch distracted.”
“You underestimate me.”
Cait huffed out a laugh, reaching down to move her own panties to the side, exposing herself, craving the rough heat of Vi’s hands on her skin, inside of her. Desperate for that buoyant, empty-headed feeling of afterwards and the raw, animalistic surrender of the climb. “It’s so incredibly meaningless, all of it. This city needs institutional, generational change, not a few policy measures passed at the council’s near lackadaisical pace. After everything, after Jinx, after the city was crippled and my mother lay bedridden, what’s really changed? What have I done to hold up my end of our bargain? You’re making incredible strides coordinating a map to peace with the Firelights and I’m—,”
“Hey, Cupcake?” Vi’s ministrations had stilled, her gray eyes were clear, hand on Cait’s jaw to force eye contact.
“Y—yes?”
“I see you.”
“I’m—yes, I should…I should hope so?”
“No, Caitlyn, listen,” Vi ran a soothing thumb across Cait’s sharp cheekbone. “You’re enough. You’re doing enough.”
“Violet, I—,”
“Don’t argue with me, Cupcake,” Vi cupped Caitlyn’s soaking heat in the palm of her hand. “I don’t like to lose, remember? I love you. You’re good enough.”
Caitlyn’s last vestige of indifference, of modesty crumbled then.
“Oh, goodness, I want you,” Caitlyn found herself whining, jerking against Vi’s hand. “Please, just…I don’t want to think.”
“Good girl.”
Caitlyn shivered.
“Turn around for me.”
Cait was quick to obey, placing her hands firmly on the dresser and grinding back against the stiff length still concealed in Vi’s pants, biting her lip to contain her moan at so simple a contact. It would be degrading if she were in any other headspace, if her thoughts, her fantasies of Vi weren’t so constant, so overwhelming.
“Are you wet enough for me?”
Nodding rapidly, Cait reached back to find the zipper on her dress, but Vi shoved her hands away, placing them forcefully back where they belonged.
“Dress stays on,” Vi instructed.
Caitlyn felt a knot of pleasure twist low in her gut. “Vi, I can’t defile my uniform any further—,”
“I can,” Vi snapped, and then softened. “If you don’t want this, let me know. We can stop.”
Fuck, Cait didn’t want to stop. “No, please! I need you. I need you to tell me I’m good.”
To make me good.
Make me good, Violet.
“So good, baby,” Vi soothed, working Cait’s panties down her legs, letting them fall to her boots before kneading at her ass with a strong hand, spreading her apart. “You’re so perfect.”
“I’m not,” Caitlyn mourned, head lulling forward, resting between her elbows on the dresser. “I need you inside, please. I want it, Violet, I—,”
“I’m gonna make you feel good, OK?” Vi promised, and Cait listened to the snap of elastic as she pulled down the waistband of her pants, the low, vibrating hum of the hexstrap louder now without the barrier of clothing.
“I want you to feel good,” Cait rocked backwards, trying and failing to keep that needy whine out of her voice, trying to angle her hips correctly, trying to be good, anticipating that sweet, nearly painful stretch.
The tip was at her entrance now, the shaft pressing smoothly inside her, inspiring a gasp from Cait but meeting little resistance despite its generous size. “Fuck, Cupcake…” Vi groaned with her own pleasure, the amplified sensation well worth the additional expense. “Every time you take me, it’s like—fuck, it’s like you were made for me.”
Perhaps I was. “Vi…you’re…” Caitlyn’s mind was already beginning to cloud as she was hollowed out. “I love you, you’re so wonderful, you feel so—ah! Yes, please…”
More, please, more more more more!
Vi had paused for a moment to allow Cait to adjust to the size before she began to thrust in earnest, her movements deep and slow, enjoying every moment, every twitch and clench and hyper-sensitive reaction. “Goddamn, I love how tight you are…love how well you take me…you’re a little greedy, huh? Taking all of it like this, stretching for me…”
“I want you—I want you, always, Violet, I—,”
“I know, Cupcake, I can feel it. Can feel how fucking wet you are for me; how bad you want it. I bet you’re gonna come quick.”
“Not yet,” Caitlyn begged. “I—just a little longer, I—don’t make me think.”
Vi paused briefly, resting her forehead between Caitlyn’s shoulder blades, keeping her bent over with her weight. “Fuck, you’re so sexy.”
“Show me.”
Oh, Vi always did love a challenge…
Caitlyn’s heartrate sped with Vi’s movements, taking every punishing thrust with a pant, a moan or a squeal of delight. Needing this, needing to know she was good and loved and wanted. Needing to know she was useful and desirable. I want to be good for you I want to be good, I want to be good enough, I want—, “Touch me like I’m made of steel, not porcelain,” Cait begged, feeling Vi instantly grasp her hips tighter in response, fingers bunching in the fabric of her uniform. “Like I’m in need of breaking, punishment. Fuck me like I’m your pretty whore, like I’m—,”
Vi gathered Cait’s hair in one hand, making a fist at the base of her scalp and yanking Cait’s head up. “Look,” she gritted, command punctuated by an especially rough shove of her hips—feral. “Look.”
And Caitlyn did. She blinked straight ahead, staring directly at her wall of achievements, awarded for acts of exemplary service and expert shooting—trophies that glinted in the afternoon sunlight and medals that knocked softly against the wall with each of Vi’s thrusts.
“You’re perfect, I told you,” Vi reminded her, reaching a hand around to rub at Caitlyn’s clit as she began to tighten around Vi’s length. “You want an award for this, baby? For being my perfect whore?”
Caitlyn whined high in her throat, a needy, almost pathetic sound, watching herself be fucked in the luminous reflection of her trophies, pressing back against each punishing thrust, an empty vessel begging to be filled. “Please, Violet, I need you. I need—make me—”
“Should we put it on the wall with all the rest? For everyone to see? Think they’d be proud?”
Caitlyn Kiramman didn’t care to unpack why it was that sentence that pushed her over the edge, sending her spiraling into blissful completion, riding out the aftershocks, scalp stinging as Vi took what she needed. Vi, like an animal behind her, spilling into her. The magical act of taking that from her, of absorbing what Vi had to offer, her passion, her love, her essence, feeling radical and intimate, what couldn’t be contained inside of Caitlyn mixing with her own slick and dripping down her thigh onto the boots she had yet to take off…but she also wasn’t going to argue with the results.
“Fuck,” Vi laughed after her breathing had returned to a somewhat normal rhythm, rubbing soothing patterns on Cait’s hips where she’d been squeezing bruises, the hexstrap still sheathed inside them both. “Was that too much?”
“It would appear not.”
Vi laughed again, reaching forward to grab the discarded cravat, and moving subtly to wipe the trail of arousal from between Cait’s legs, though she refused to pull out just yet. “Hey, Cait?”
“Yes?”
“I meant what I said earlier. I see how hard you’re working, everyone does,” Vi said, earnest despite having just wiped their shared fluids with a desecrated necktie.
“I love you, Violet.”
Caitlyn felt a smile on Vi’s lips when she placed a kiss against the back of her neck. “Wanna go again?”
“Yes, but I really do need to change, the novelty has worn off.”
“Oh, for sure, copy that.”