What's In Irish Coffee? 1/1
What’s In Irish Coffee? 1/1
Title: What’s in Irish Coffee?
Fandom: Damages
Paring: Patty/Ellen
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: They do not belong to me. I wish.
Summary: Lake house sex.
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Fumbling with house keys and trying to get the door open is a difficult task to achieve for Patty tonight. It’s dark at the lake house, it’s fairly late, she’s guilty of driving under the influence…and, oh yeah, the fact that Ellen has just crushed her against said locked door and has taken it upon herself to keep them from breathing , does not aid the situation.
Patty moans and is vaguely worried that her neighbors might hear her, so, as Ellen sucks carelessly at a particularly sensitive spot on her ear, she shuts her eyes and bites her lip, writhing between the heated, slightly towering figure and the cold flat surface behind her.
Her coat is heavy and restricting in her inebriated state, leaving her a mere prey to Ellen’s possessive and greedy assault. At the moment, she curses her choice of wardrobe. Early that morning, not knowing she and Ellen would be taking a long drive to the lake after meeting with clients, she opted for the thicker, heavier coat. Now, it doesn’t seem like such a good idea anymore.
By the time eager hands begin to pull mercilessly at her buttons, Patty knows it’s time to move their little soiree indoors. With difficulty, she manages a hand out from where Ellen’s got it pinned behind her back and holds the other woman’s shoulder firmly without pushing as she whispers, “The door--let me get the door…”
Ellen exhales and begrudgingly pulls back. Way back until she’s staring with a smoldering glare at the other woman, her shoes crunching against the road pebbles, admiring the way Patty appears to be having a difficult time simply standing.
“Okay,” Ellen says with a surprisingly composed smirk. Her chest is heaving and her eyes are glossy from the consumed alcohol earlier that evening, but she’s standing guard, almost daring Patty to move. She nods towards the door and adds, “Open the door then.”
Licking her lips, Patty exhales sharply through her nose and firmly pushes her weight off the door, turning slowly and lifting her keys with shaky hands again.
She feels Ellen come up behind her so close, she can smell her perfume, and she has to hold her breath to keep a steady grip on the metal key as she inserts it into the slot, turns it and hears the lock give in before pushing the door open.
It shuts with a slam only seconds later and she’s quick to push the brunette against it.
Their lips meet again, desperately, as purses and other belongings fall to the floor with careless abandon. Winter coats are pushed off shoulders, falling in muted thuds onto the floor. It’s darker inside the house. Quiet. The only sound is that of ruffling clothes and heavy breathing. It’s a little overwhelming and it sets both women on edge, forces their movements to be even more determined.
Patty grabs at the ends of Ellen’s blouse and pulls it hard with a grunt, gasping as the brunette pulls at her waist, roping her body tightly against her to kiss her again. Patty wonders if she could tear the thin piece of fabric if she pulls just a little harder.
Ellen does pull without another thought, ripping the first button right off Patty’s top, who moans when it happens and holds on tighter. Ellen smiles back at Patty and pulls open another, and another, one at a time until an entire torso is revealed to her and her hands can’t help but slide and curve around Patty’s waist, her thumbs tracing her ribcage before she pulls her roughly against her and tongues do another rival dance that sends them straight into the guest room down the hall to the right because Patty doesn’t think they’ll make it up the stairs.
Ellen lands, flat on her back, on the plush king sized mattress, with a chuckle and Patty on top of her.
They kiss and crawl up the bed, stopping only for Patty to sit up and rid of the ruined top, wondering only briefly what she’s going to wear the next day as their little drive was not planned this way and has no clothes she can wear. It’s a very brief thought, however, because Ellen is looking up through heavy lidded eyes, parted lips and rosy cheeks that might have a lot more to do with the shots of tequila they so stupidly consumed, “What do you want?” Patty asks in an almost purr, parting Ellen’s bent knees slowly and lowering herself down into a kiss that doesn’t happen because she feels like playing.
“Hmm?” She tries again, making sure to press her partially naked body to Ellen’s fully clothed one, rocking her hips forward, smiling against the counter thrust she receives, “What do you want?”
Ellen smirks and lifts her head, licking, with just the tip of her tongue, at patty’s earlobe, then whispering as her hands cup her ass and pull her harder against her, causing Patty to shiver, “I want you. To take off your clothes.”
Patty sighs, fisting her hands into the covers under the weight of them before saying huskily, “Beg.’
As much as Ellen would love to beg for Patty to fuck her, that’s not what she has in mind. So, she moves quickly and flips them over so that she’s on top. She pulls her shirt off and over her head, shoving Patty back down when the blonde begins to sit up, “Stay there,” She orders, reaching behind her to unhook her bra, only to toss it aside.
Next, she unbuttons her pants, stopping at the zipper when she notes Patty’s eyes taking every single inch of her in. It sets her every cell on fire. She slips her hands up the other woman’s skirt instead.
Ellen has an unhealthy obsession with Patty’s legs. They’re smooth, and long, and toned. She’s spent many moments of dazing off at the office, simply staring, and has spent even more instances between them. They’re covered in expensive pantyhose at the moment, and her nails scratch the sensitive material, taking their course between warm thighs, where she pulls the hose with both hands and rips them off with a couple of tugs that shred them completely.
Patty feels delirious. Her hips writhe against the mattress and she moans unexpectedly, panting heavily as she throws her head back and then feels her panties suffer the same fate as the hose. This is why she hates tequila. It makes her forget that she likes being in control. She forgets that she prefers it that way. Maybe it’s something else that makes her forget everything, though. Someone else. When she lifts her gaze, Ellen’s lips have fallen upon her left knee, and then her right--when her mouth begins to trail down lower, she has to do something about it because drunk sex does not wait for foreplay, “Stop--that’s not what I want.”
Slowly, Ellen’s head is raised and she smiles. This is when Patty knows she’s made a mistake.
“What do you want?” Ellen asks wickedly.
“Come here--” Patty beckons, happy to see the younger woman oblige--without the usual stubborn refusal--by gently allowing her thin frame to fall against her in a slowly brewing kiss that sends waves of pleasure throughout their entwining limbs.
“Beg…” Ellen tells her against a broken kiss.
“No,” Patty replies, her hands already searching between their bodies, hoping to maybe divert the silly ideas running through her lover’s head.
Beating her to it, Ellen quickly slips a hand between them and further slips two digits inside Patty’s already aching folds.
The blonde cries out, their lips grazing as she continues to breathe heavily.
“Spread your legs,” Ellen says sternly, slipping her fingers out and tracing them upwards towards Patty’s labia, rubbing and teasing as she continues, her words smooth like honey, “Were you this wet at the bar, when I touched your knee under the table?”
Patty grunts in response, licking her lips and arching her neck, her feet shuffling against the comforter.
“Spread your legs. More,” Ellen orders. When Patty does, she allows her one swipe over her clit.
“Oh, fuck…” Patty curses through gritted teeth and grabs Ellen’s face with both hands, pulling her in for a pressing kiss that is audible and ended with heady groans. Her wrist aches as she awkwardly maneuvers her hand inside Ellen’s slacks, but she sighs when her fingers feel the mirroring sign of arousal as an equally firm stroke is applied to her core.
They begin to move immediately, digits pumping, forcing their arms to rub in a way that makes Ellen think of branches rubbing together to make fire. She’s never actually seen it done, but she imagines it must be a friction similar to this one.
The way she’s perched between Patty’s legs, who’s laid nearly helpless before her as they fuck each other senseless, forces Ellen to strain the arm that’s keeping her weight up.
She grabs a handful of the pillow under Patty’s head and throws her head back as Patty lays the flat of her thumb against her clit and her body begins to tremble, “Oh, fuck…”
“What a disappointment--” Patty says between a moan and a grunt, her hips reaching for release, her chest heaving, her eyes smiling devilishly while Ellen looks appears dangerously close to falling over, “I thought you would last a little longer.”
Ellen, in the midst of a hard hitting orgasm, sneers against a disbelieving growl, the arm threatening to give out on her flexing as Patty laughs, drives the hand nestled between the blonde’s legs harder and faster inside her.
“Ah!” patty cries out, raising up to lift her torso, anchoring against one elbow.
Their eyes meet in the dark, in between frenzied thrusts, bated breath sounding off against the spacious bedroom, while single tracked minds race for the finish line until they’ve collapsed on the mattress with gasping, incoherent exclamations of release.
What signals Patty that they should move, is a full on demanding cramp at the base of her wrist, and she nudges Ellen, “My--hand--”
Ellen grunts in displeasure but moves anyway, falling unglamorously to the right before humming up at the veiling, brushing stubborn hair out of her face.
A brief image flashes through patty’s mind, of what they must look like, disheveled, half naked and drunk--she groans. “This--was highly unprofessional,” She says, sounding slightly sluggish, slightly slurring her words, “We--should not accept drinks from clients anymore or--drive for hours to my lake house for a drunken fuck.”
Ellen looks over at Patty, whose eyes are closed as her breathing begins to even out. After a moment, she snorts a laugh, “This was your idea. And it was fun.”
A beat.
“Yes. It was fun.”
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