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“So honored,” Vivian says desperately, and when Gwen cries out Vivian’s hands press down hard against herself without even meaning to and she freezes, gasping for breath as her vision blurs a little at how good it feels, and then there’s Morgana, watching her, and that cools her off just enough to pull her hands away. She doesn’t know if she’s going to be able to, next time.
“It’s all right,” Gwen says. “Really.”
“You’re too nice, Gwen,” Morgana says. “I keep telling you, you have to make people grovel when they’ve treated you poorly.”
Gwen shakes her head. “Please.” She climbs off of Morgana, loose-limbed and glowing, and settles at her side, drawing a fold of the sheet up over her lap.
A soft flicker of a smile crosses Morgana’s lips as she looks at Gwen and then fades entirely when she turns to Vivian. “Come here,” she says, and Vivian’s already on her feet when it occurs to her to ask, “What if I want to leave?”
“By all means.” Morgana gestures at the door.
Vivian makes her best attempt at not stumbling to the bed and says, “Now what?”
Morgana flashes Vivian a wicked grin. She spreads her arms, parts her legs, says, “Don’t you want to touch?” and Vivian wants to say no but she wants to touch more. Her hand is shaking when she reaches out and runs it over the silky skin of Morgana’s breast, but she doesn’t-she’s liquid inside, she’s burning, she hurts with every throbbing beat of her pulse and if someone doesn’t touch her soon she may actually cry. “That bad?” Morgana says, and the grin widens as she reaches out and gathers handfuls of Vivian’s skirts, crumpling them-but they’re a mess anyway, creased and wet, and Vivian can’t bring herself to care when her legs give way and she sits down hard on the side of Morgana’s bed.
The air is cold against her when Morgana gets her skirts up and Vivian shivers, feeling her skin prickle all over again. “You impressed her, Gwen,” Morgana says, sounding amused, and Vivian closes her eyes so she can’t see them gloat. “Look,” and Morgana rubs at the slick smeared across Vivian’s thighs and Vivian feels her hips jerk towards Morgana’s hands.
Gwen smooths the hair back from Vivian’s face, traces the embroidery over Vivian’s breasts, and Vivian half-sobs “Oh yes please” when Gwen touches her nipples, Morgana’s hands the only thing that keep her from squeezing her legs closed again.
“Wait,” Morgana says, and Gwen’s hands still. Vivian is about to complain when Morgana presses a finger to her, stroking between her folds and over her maidenhead, and Morgana makes a surprised sound and says, “Really, Vivian? Not even a single trip without a sidesaddle?”
“Of course not,” Vivian says indignantly, or maybe breathlessly, or maybe doesn’t manage to say at all, it’s hard to tell with the way she’s writhing against Morgana’s finger, trying to get it to move higher because now that she’s finally got hands on her everything’s coiling tight in the pit of her stomach, and her skin feels too small, and she needs so badly she doesn’t know what’s going to happen if they delay any longer.
Morgana finally moves, so slowly Vivian can feel tears of frustration prickling behind her eyes but so good, especially when Gwen’s hands tighten again on her breasts, and then Morgana presses her thumb flat over Vivian’s nub and Vivian screams as she comes, too surprised and too overwhelmed to keep quiet.
“I’m so glad,” Morgana says after a moment, “that you’ve come around to a reasonable way of thinking about Gwen.”
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Thank you thank you thank you!!!! So good, so hot! Heh, I think Vivian is very contrite now! :D
LOVE IT!!
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Thank you for the awesome (and hot!) read.
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And loved the bit about the maidenhead.
I actually mostly included that for my own entertainment, so I'm especially glad someone else liked it. :D
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