The Devil You Know - Part 3
The Devil You Know - Part 3
By: mercurial_muse
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada (film)
Pairing: Miranda/Andy
Archive: Please ask first.
Rating: M/NC-17
Disclaimer: These characters are owned by Lauren Weisberger and 20th-century Fox, not me. Please don't sue me. Seriously... I'm too poor for it to be worth your while.
Summary: Miranda Priestly has become the most successful woman in the fashion industry, but at what cost?
Previous Parts:
Part 1 Located: http://mercurial-muse.livejournal.com/2535.html
Part 2 Located: http://mercurial-muse.livejournal.com/2585.html
Author’s Note: I was really nervous about writing this part well and most of it would have ended up on the cutting room floor, so to speak, if not for some intervention from kitnkabootle. As I mentioned in the author's notes for the first part of this story, she has this lovely habit ofbelieving in me even when I don't believe in myself and, for that, I am very grateful. Thanks also go out once again to those who are reading and commenting. You all have really made me feel welcome around here!
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It was an impressive show of restraint that they were both still fully dressed when they reached the bedroom, although it was clear that neither of them had any intentions of letting the other stay that way for long. Even while her eyes darkened and clouded with lust, Miranda took in the sight of Andrea's clothes with something akin to disgust in her gaze. She tisked and then let out a frustrated huff of a sigh. "Take those dreadful sweats off this instant."
Andy laughed and took a step back to avoid the fingers that grabbed for the hem of her shirt. "Y'know what?" she began, tilting her chin up defiantly before closing the distance between them again. "I think maybe it's time you learn the difference between being boss and just being bossy." The editor opened her mouth to comment, but the words were swept away with a gasp as Andrea's hands darted out and snagged her by the collar of her suit jacket. The younger woman pulled her closer, so close that when she spoke next, their lips brushed together. "Shut up, Miranda," she growled.
Andy slanted her mouth over her lover's, let the softness of Miranda's lips and the warmth of her tongue sliding along hers draw her in. Miranda reached up to gently trace her fingers along the smooth line of Andrea's jaw before they traveled back and then around, threading into the soft hair at the nape of her neck. It would have been so easy for Andy to give in to Miranda at that moment, to let her take the lead, set the pace. But that kind of defeated the purpose of the lesson she had in mind for the naturally domineering woman, didn't it?
With her fingers still clenched in the lapels of Miranda's jacket, Andy tugged it off and dropped it to the ground in a heap, not caring a bit that the expertly tailored garment probably cost more than she made in a month. She took more time with the shirt beneath, unfastening each button slowly and kissing every inch of newly exposed skin. Her unhurried attention faltered when, midway through her efforts, she caught a glimpse of the bra Miranda was wearing, a piece from La Perla's new collection. All satin and lace, there was barely enough to it to justify it as an actual piece of clothing, even considering the fact that it was lingerie. Eager to see more, Andy gripped the plackets of the shirt and yanked them away from each other. There was a muffled sound of the Egyptian cotton tearing, punctuated by the clattering of several buttons bouncing off the hardwood floor. It occurred to her that she should probably feel guilty for ruining the shirt beyond repair, but what were a few popped buttons when she had already turned a $2500 Italian wool Armani jacket into a mess of wrinkles? Apparently it was worth at least a mention, as Andy heard Miranda suck in a breath as if she was about to say something, but their mouths crushed together again and the editor's protests were quickly forgotten.
Intent on keeping her hands just as busy as her tongue, Andy pulled what was left of Miranda's shirt across her shoulders, down her arms and, just before sliding it off completely, reminded herself of her plan. With a predatory look sparking in her eyes, she twisted the silken fabric in her hands so that it tightened around the editor's wrists, effectively binding them at the small of her back. Miranda pulled against Andrea's hold, but that unspoken protest was ignored. Andy tore her mouth away from Miranda's, prompting a low moan that spurred her on as she mimicked the path the older woman's fingers had recently traced along her face just moments ago. She kissed her way up the line of her lover's jaw and then lingered over what she knew to be a particularly sensitive spot just behind her ear. Miranda drew in a sharp breath and released it over Andrea's name, whisper-soft and trembling with emotion.
Silver hair brushed over bare shoulders as Miranda rolled her head back to allow Andrea's lips to follow the graceful column of her neck, across the elegant arc of her collarbone and, finally, down her chest and to the valley between her breasts. Unable to resist, Andy ran her tongue over the top of Miranda's bra, the black lace so delicate that it felt as if it might melt in her mouth. The younger woman pulled down sharply on the cloth she still held twisted around Miranda's wrists, causing her back to arch and raising the peak of her breast to her mouth. Andy scraped her teeth over the nipple and felt it harden and strain against the delicate material.
As Andy's mouth drifted across heated flesh from one nipple to the other, she could feel her lover's heartbeat fluttering wildly beneath her lips. Miranda's breaths grew faster, more shallow, and she pulled against her makeshift restraints yet again as the sweet torture continued. The younger woman's free hand snaked around Miranda's back, deft fingers tracing along her spine until they found and released the bra's clasp. She then pushed one strap down her lover's arm as far as would go, which wasn't far at all as Miranda's wrists were still restrained, leaving her arms pinned at her sides.
Andrea pushed down the other strap as well, and her lips followed its path over the curve of Miranda's shoulder and along her arm. She marked inch after inch of flawless pale skin with nips, kisses and quick darts of her tongue. The older woman made a sound deep in her throat, something between a whimper and a moan, and then pulled against her bonds once more. Her sleek muscles bunched and trembled under the touch of Andy's lips and, had she not been half out of her mind with desire, she might have felt the girls mouth turn up into a wicked smile.
The straps of Miranda's bra rested midway down her upper arms and the cups dipped forward so that her breasts were almost free of their confinement. Almost. All it would take to expose them completely was one little tug from Andy, but her grasp on her quickly fleeting sense of control was just strong enough to keep her from doing so. Instead she kissed her way across the planes of Miranda's chest, her lips bringing more color to skin already flushing a rosy pink hue. And when her mouth made its way to the spot just over the gentle swell of one breast, Miranda softly cried out in anticipation. Her next breath hitched in her throat when the younger woman took the lacy edge of the bra in her teeth, tugged once... and then stopped.
Something raged within Miranda and she struggled against the silken ties binding her wrists so violently that Andy almost lost her hold, but she tightened her grasp and then circled her free hand around her back just to be sure her captive wouldn't break free. That brought the two of them face to face and Miranda's breath was hot against her lover's cheek as she panted and made soft, needy sounds in place of the words her numbed mind couldn't form. She moved in to kiss Andrea, set on bruising those beautiful lips when she let loose with the volatile mix of anger and desperation that flooded through her, and she nearly growled in frustration when the girl turned her head and then arched away so that she was out of reach completely. No! Andrea couldn't stop, couldn't deny her and leave her aching like this.
"Please..." The word wasn't spoken in the exasperated and demanding tone that Miranda would normally use. Instead it was a breathless, whisper-quiet plea.
Andy turned back to look at Miranda and a gratified smile brightened her face. Finally, her hands released their hold and gently unwound the shirt from around the older woman's wrists. "Well then," Andrea said, and then paused for a quick kiss. "Since you asked so nicely..." Slowly, and with great care, she pulled Miranda's arms around her front and then reached up to slide her bra all the way off. And when she dipped her head to suck one of Miranda's nipples into her mouth, took that firm and fevered peak between her teeth, Andy wasn't at all surprised or disappointed to feel her lover's fingers thread into her hair and tug almost painfully hard.
Oh yes, Miranda's revenge would be sweet... for both of them.
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Hours later, Miranda lay on her back in bed watching streaks of light and shadow play across the ceiling, specters cast up from the few cars driving along the street below. The house was quiet save for the soft and hypnotic sound of Andy's breath mingling with hers. The younger woman was sprawled out at her side with her head resting on Miranda's shoulder and an arm slung around her waist in an unconsciously possessive gesture. With Andrea's naked body warm against hers, the taste of her still on her lips and, as always, thoughts of her filling her mind, it should have been easy to focus on what she had. But, instead, all of that served as bittersweet reminders of what she stood to lose. As she turned her head to peer at the alarm clock, Miranda realized Andrea would have to leave for her apartment and then off to work in only a few hours, and she couldn't help but to wonder how much time remained before fate played its hand and she left her for good.