Temptation Waits 1/1
Title: Temptation Waits 1/1
Author: Rachel
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Pairing: Callie/Erica
Disclaimer: Not mine, will never be mine, though if anyone has a spare Sara Ramirez hanging around, I'll more than gladly take her. I don't own any characters herein, and I will return them (mostly) unharmed once I'm done playing. I am making no money from writing these stories. As a non-profit interpretation of the original work, this constitutes fair use under USC 17.107.
Summary: "If there's one thing you've learned about the woman currently on her knees before you, it's that she can twist any situation in her mind, see it any way she wants to."
Words: 2051
Notes:For obediance on my kink_bingo card. Card here (all completed squares link to the relevant story). Unbetad. It's been a long time coming, but this is the closest I've gotten yet to Erica's revenge.
Temptation Waits 1/1
The problem, as far as Callie's concerned, is that you're afraid to commit, afraid that she'll get under your skin again and hurt you like before.
Callie's wrong.
You're not surprised she believes that, not surprised that she sees things through rose-colored glasses. If there's one thing you've learned about the woman currently on her knees before you, it's that she can twist any situation in her mind, see it any way she wants to. She thinks that this is absolution, that, if she lets things be your way, eventually you'll forgive her, let her back in beneath your iron-clad facade. You're not ashamed to admit that you use that to your advantage, that you let her believe she's making up for all the fucked up things she did when you still believed that maybe the two of you had a future. To Callie's credit, she's playing her current part to perfection, letting you take the lead in the hope that you'll forgive her and one day reopen the door that she slammed closed with thoughtless actions and ill-advised words.
That just proves that she knows you as little as you know her.
There's power in your position now, power you should have always known you'd thrive on, revenge being meted out as slowly as the pain was caused. Callie's going to regret how badly she hurt you, the way she treated you, but not before you show her exactly how it feels to know that you're not enough, not good enough for something you want more than anything else in the world.
“Stay there.”
She whimpers as you walk away, but she follows your instruction, staying frozen on her knees, caramel skin glowing under the flickering of candlelight, eyes wide and full of desire. It's a rush to see how long she'll stay there. As sorry as she claims to be, as eager as she is to win your forgiveness, Callie Torres is headstrong, independent, and when she inevitably fails in the simple task you've set her, it makes this all the more fun for you.
Wandering from room to room almost aimlessly, wondering what's going through Callie's mind while she waits for a return that's not going to come, you eventually settle in the living room, the silence refreshing and serving so that you'll hear her when she grows restless. Beer in one hand, you flick through an old medical journal, rolling your eyes at an article of Burke's that lauds a “new discovery” than you know was far from his own work.
Callie holds out longer than you thought she would, and maybe it's perverse the way that thrills you. Her footsteps padding across the smooth wooden floor in your hallway is your first knowledge of her movement, and you fight to keep the smirk from your lips as you pretend to be engrossed by an article about cheiloplasty. You feel her eyes on you, swear you feel the air displace as she stands in front of you, but she stays silent and the shiver of approval that settles in your core makes the frustrating nights of sending her away before you could reach release worth it. Clearly, Callie's finally learned that demands don't work with the you she's unearthed and reinstated; a side of you she never saw before though she thought she'd seen the worst of you within the walls of the hospital.
You happen to think that this is the best you, but you're sure that Callie doesn't agree.
You make her wait for long moments, your eyes not leaving the words on the page despite the temptation of her naked skin and ample curves. Callie stands in silence the entire time, though you know that her eyes are fixed on you, dilated and hungry. When, eventually, you look up, Callie tears her eyes from your breasts, fixing them on the floor, waiting for you to tell her what you want, knowing that this is the closest you'll let her come to true intimacy.
It's testament to the depths of her self-delusion that she believes the way things are comes with a disclaimer of 'for now' attached.
“Callie...” She looks up at her name as it falls in a drawl from your lips, and you savor the eager look in her eye, enjoying the way her heated gaze burns through you, pooling between your thighs. You shift against the fabric of your chair, feeling it slightly rough beneath your bare legs, your knees falling open and closed deliberately, drawing her attention for a fraction of a second before she swallows hard and pulls her eyes back to yours.
Damn, it's hot when she's so desperate to touch you.
“Come here.” Your voice is rough with arousal, husky over the command, and Callie responds instantly, crossing the distance between you until your hand stops her. She watches you closely, confusion in her eyes, and you murmur, “What do you want?”
She seems hesitant, so you continue, “Answer the question.”
Her voice is soft but full of heat, “Let me kiss you?”
You nod, and barely a second passes before she surges forward, her lips smooth against yours, gentle but demanding as her tongue flutters along your bottom lip, begging for permission. She moans deeply when you open to her, allowing her tongue to stroke against yours. And even though her tongue is in your mouth, and she can fool herself into believing she's dominant, just for a moment, you both know who's in charge here. As her hand comes to rest on your waist, you pull it away again, reveling in her whimper of loss, the way she mutters “please” against your lips as you pull away for air. She refuses to really go anywhere, her lips brushing yours as she speaks, but you stay strong despite the lust that clouds your brain, knowing that you have to keep the control you fought so hard for. She's still murmuring that single word when you bring one hand to tweak her hardened nipple, and you're really starting to wonder if she's enjoying her submission a little more than you really want her to. Not that you want her to dislike it, but there's something to be said for her feeling humiliated the way she humiliated you. You pinch harder this time, as she hisses, giving you the opportunity to plunder her mouth with your tongue, to take what you want and need, to not give her the opportunity to try and wrest your hard-earned control from you.
She sinks into the kiss, nipping gently at your lips as you draw back for air, and you pull away completely, pushing her away from your body, glaring at her heatedly for daring to defy you. Callie realizes that she's crossed a line almost immediately, fear darting through her eyes as she realizes that you may send her away again.
It's tempting, but you think that she knows that you're in control now, so you take her hand and guide it up your stomach until it's brushing the tender underside of your breast. Your voice steady you say, “Show me how sorry you are.”
She seems uncertain, so you guide her hand higher, manipulating her hand until it's cupping your breast, moaning as her palm covers a painfully hard nipple, your tone more commanding, “Squeeze.”
Taking your hand from hers, you groan as she follows your instruction, kneading your breast as you rock into the contact. Threading your hand through her hair, you tug her head towards your other breast, a guttural moan ripping from your throat as she catches onto your demand before you have to say it, her lips wrapping around the sensitive nub, her tongue stroking across it randomly, causing your hips to roll down into the chair as your arousal builds higher, threatening to burn you, threatening to make you lose all control. “Fuck, yes,” you groan as you rub your legs together, needing the friction as the thrill of her submission runs through you. Callie's mouth sucks and licks in rhythm with her hand, her tongue drawing patterns across your breast that you'd swear match the patterns her fingers draw across your skin.
Your want rolls through you in strengthening waves, and Callie's free hand twitches as it rests on your leg. You know she's dying to touch you, but afraid that if she does, she'll break the rules of this game, and that's when you know you have her exactly where you want her. You know she'll follow your every command, know that she'll do anything to have something she's never going to get the chance to break again, and you can see the path laid before you to your eventual revenge. The knowledge floods through you, and you force words through your moans, “Fuck me.”
Without hesitation, she does, two fingers sinking easily into wet heat, every trust pushing you higher, closer to the edge that's been beckoning for what feels like weeks. And really, it has been... it wasn't easy to make Callie realize that she doesn't have any control here, that it doesn't matter how much she wants you, she can only have what you say she can take. Your hips rise and fall against her hand, your ass grinding into the chair with every roll of your body towards her touch. It's too much, but not enough and you're teetering on the edge of release, your body taut like a bowstring, waiting for the touch that will send you careening off the cliff into the warm wave you can see waiting for you. Your moans are constant now, emanating around your bodies as they move together, Callie's voice in harmony with yours as you tug her hair once more, pulling her into a rough kiss that you control.
“Now” you hiss against her lips before diving in for another kiss, and her thumb comes up to stroke against the bundle of nerves that cries out for her attention. Your body stills immediately, frozen as you fall into space, your breath heavy, your blood audible in your own ears as it rushes through your veins. Callie's hand keeps moving, though less urgently, and a second wave rushes across you, less explosive but no less satisfying as you cry out against her lips.
You come down slowly, Callie's hand still buried within you, your head falling to her shoulder, feeling her breath warm and wet across your cheek. You resist the urge to nuzzle against her throat, concentrating on steadying your breathing, pushing any tenderness you still feel towards the woman holding you back down into the locked box where it belongs.
When your heart stops racing so fast that you're almost worried, when your breath comes easier and not in deep gasps, you pull away from her, groaning at the loss as your hand guides hers away from your body. Closing your eyes, you take a moment to cycle through your options, on the verge of throwing out the plan for the evening as your fingers itch to touch her, the urge to bury your hand deep inside hot, slick velvet almost overpowering. But what you want more is for her to realize that this isn't forgiveness, for her to want absolution more than she already does, so you take a deep breath and look deep into her eyes. They're almost black with need, hooded, her gaze heavy as it runs across your face, searching for something you know she won't see.
On unsteady legs, you stand, forcing Callie to stand too so there's room for you to move. You see the hope written across her face, and you know you're going to win this battle.
You can't see her face when you say the words that roll over and over in your mind though. The satisfaction at your total control only goes so far, and contrary to popular opinion, you're not made of ice. What tenderness you felt towards this woman may have been ripped from you both by her selfish actions, but you're afraid of what may happen if you see her face fall, so you turn away.
“I think you know the way out.”
Author: Rachel
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Pairing: Callie/Erica
Disclaimer: Not mine, will never be mine, though if anyone has a spare Sara Ramirez hanging around, I'll more than gladly take her. I don't own any characters herein, and I will return them (mostly) unharmed once I'm done playing. I am making no money from writing these stories. As a non-profit interpretation of the original work, this constitutes fair use under USC 17.107.
Summary: "If there's one thing you've learned about the woman currently on her knees before you, it's that she can twist any situation in her mind, see it any way she wants to."
Words: 2051
Notes:For obediance on my kink_bingo card. Card here (all completed squares link to the relevant story). Unbetad. It's been a long time coming, but this is the closest I've gotten yet to Erica's revenge.
Temptation Waits 1/1
The problem, as far as Callie's concerned, is that you're afraid to commit, afraid that she'll get under your skin again and hurt you like before.
Callie's wrong.
You're not surprised she believes that, not surprised that she sees things through rose-colored glasses. If there's one thing you've learned about the woman currently on her knees before you, it's that she can twist any situation in her mind, see it any way she wants to. She thinks that this is absolution, that, if she lets things be your way, eventually you'll forgive her, let her back in beneath your iron-clad facade. You're not ashamed to admit that you use that to your advantage, that you let her believe she's making up for all the fucked up things she did when you still believed that maybe the two of you had a future. To Callie's credit, she's playing her current part to perfection, letting you take the lead in the hope that you'll forgive her and one day reopen the door that she slammed closed with thoughtless actions and ill-advised words.
That just proves that she knows you as little as you know her.
There's power in your position now, power you should have always known you'd thrive on, revenge being meted out as slowly as the pain was caused. Callie's going to regret how badly she hurt you, the way she treated you, but not before you show her exactly how it feels to know that you're not enough, not good enough for something you want more than anything else in the world.
“Stay there.”
She whimpers as you walk away, but she follows your instruction, staying frozen on her knees, caramel skin glowing under the flickering of candlelight, eyes wide and full of desire. It's a rush to see how long she'll stay there. As sorry as she claims to be, as eager as she is to win your forgiveness, Callie Torres is headstrong, independent, and when she inevitably fails in the simple task you've set her, it makes this all the more fun for you.
Wandering from room to room almost aimlessly, wondering what's going through Callie's mind while she waits for a return that's not going to come, you eventually settle in the living room, the silence refreshing and serving so that you'll hear her when she grows restless. Beer in one hand, you flick through an old medical journal, rolling your eyes at an article of Burke's that lauds a “new discovery” than you know was far from his own work.
Callie holds out longer than you thought she would, and maybe it's perverse the way that thrills you. Her footsteps padding across the smooth wooden floor in your hallway is your first knowledge of her movement, and you fight to keep the smirk from your lips as you pretend to be engrossed by an article about cheiloplasty. You feel her eyes on you, swear you feel the air displace as she stands in front of you, but she stays silent and the shiver of approval that settles in your core makes the frustrating nights of sending her away before you could reach release worth it. Clearly, Callie's finally learned that demands don't work with the you she's unearthed and reinstated; a side of you she never saw before though she thought she'd seen the worst of you within the walls of the hospital.
You happen to think that this is the best you, but you're sure that Callie doesn't agree.
You make her wait for long moments, your eyes not leaving the words on the page despite the temptation of her naked skin and ample curves. Callie stands in silence the entire time, though you know that her eyes are fixed on you, dilated and hungry. When, eventually, you look up, Callie tears her eyes from your breasts, fixing them on the floor, waiting for you to tell her what you want, knowing that this is the closest you'll let her come to true intimacy.
It's testament to the depths of her self-delusion that she believes the way things are comes with a disclaimer of 'for now' attached.
“Callie...” She looks up at her name as it falls in a drawl from your lips, and you savor the eager look in her eye, enjoying the way her heated gaze burns through you, pooling between your thighs. You shift against the fabric of your chair, feeling it slightly rough beneath your bare legs, your knees falling open and closed deliberately, drawing her attention for a fraction of a second before she swallows hard and pulls her eyes back to yours.
Damn, it's hot when she's so desperate to touch you.
“Come here.” Your voice is rough with arousal, husky over the command, and Callie responds instantly, crossing the distance between you until your hand stops her. She watches you closely, confusion in her eyes, and you murmur, “What do you want?”
She seems hesitant, so you continue, “Answer the question.”
Her voice is soft but full of heat, “Let me kiss you?”
You nod, and barely a second passes before she surges forward, her lips smooth against yours, gentle but demanding as her tongue flutters along your bottom lip, begging for permission. She moans deeply when you open to her, allowing her tongue to stroke against yours. And even though her tongue is in your mouth, and she can fool herself into believing she's dominant, just for a moment, you both know who's in charge here. As her hand comes to rest on your waist, you pull it away again, reveling in her whimper of loss, the way she mutters “please” against your lips as you pull away for air. She refuses to really go anywhere, her lips brushing yours as she speaks, but you stay strong despite the lust that clouds your brain, knowing that you have to keep the control you fought so hard for. She's still murmuring that single word when you bring one hand to tweak her hardened nipple, and you're really starting to wonder if she's enjoying her submission a little more than you really want her to. Not that you want her to dislike it, but there's something to be said for her feeling humiliated the way she humiliated you. You pinch harder this time, as she hisses, giving you the opportunity to plunder her mouth with your tongue, to take what you want and need, to not give her the opportunity to try and wrest your hard-earned control from you.
She sinks into the kiss, nipping gently at your lips as you draw back for air, and you pull away completely, pushing her away from your body, glaring at her heatedly for daring to defy you. Callie realizes that she's crossed a line almost immediately, fear darting through her eyes as she realizes that you may send her away again.
It's tempting, but you think that she knows that you're in control now, so you take her hand and guide it up your stomach until it's brushing the tender underside of your breast. Your voice steady you say, “Show me how sorry you are.”
She seems uncertain, so you guide her hand higher, manipulating her hand until it's cupping your breast, moaning as her palm covers a painfully hard nipple, your tone more commanding, “Squeeze.”
Taking your hand from hers, you groan as she follows your instruction, kneading your breast as you rock into the contact. Threading your hand through her hair, you tug her head towards your other breast, a guttural moan ripping from your throat as she catches onto your demand before you have to say it, her lips wrapping around the sensitive nub, her tongue stroking across it randomly, causing your hips to roll down into the chair as your arousal builds higher, threatening to burn you, threatening to make you lose all control. “Fuck, yes,” you groan as you rub your legs together, needing the friction as the thrill of her submission runs through you. Callie's mouth sucks and licks in rhythm with her hand, her tongue drawing patterns across your breast that you'd swear match the patterns her fingers draw across your skin.
Your want rolls through you in strengthening waves, and Callie's free hand twitches as it rests on your leg. You know she's dying to touch you, but afraid that if she does, she'll break the rules of this game, and that's when you know you have her exactly where you want her. You know she'll follow your every command, know that she'll do anything to have something she's never going to get the chance to break again, and you can see the path laid before you to your eventual revenge. The knowledge floods through you, and you force words through your moans, “Fuck me.”
Without hesitation, she does, two fingers sinking easily into wet heat, every trust pushing you higher, closer to the edge that's been beckoning for what feels like weeks. And really, it has been... it wasn't easy to make Callie realize that she doesn't have any control here, that it doesn't matter how much she wants you, she can only have what you say she can take. Your hips rise and fall against her hand, your ass grinding into the chair with every roll of your body towards her touch. It's too much, but not enough and you're teetering on the edge of release, your body taut like a bowstring, waiting for the touch that will send you careening off the cliff into the warm wave you can see waiting for you. Your moans are constant now, emanating around your bodies as they move together, Callie's voice in harmony with yours as you tug her hair once more, pulling her into a rough kiss that you control.
“Now” you hiss against her lips before diving in for another kiss, and her thumb comes up to stroke against the bundle of nerves that cries out for her attention. Your body stills immediately, frozen as you fall into space, your breath heavy, your blood audible in your own ears as it rushes through your veins. Callie's hand keeps moving, though less urgently, and a second wave rushes across you, less explosive but no less satisfying as you cry out against her lips.
You come down slowly, Callie's hand still buried within you, your head falling to her shoulder, feeling her breath warm and wet across your cheek. You resist the urge to nuzzle against her throat, concentrating on steadying your breathing, pushing any tenderness you still feel towards the woman holding you back down into the locked box where it belongs.
When your heart stops racing so fast that you're almost worried, when your breath comes easier and not in deep gasps, you pull away from her, groaning at the loss as your hand guides hers away from your body. Closing your eyes, you take a moment to cycle through your options, on the verge of throwing out the plan for the evening as your fingers itch to touch her, the urge to bury your hand deep inside hot, slick velvet almost overpowering. But what you want more is for her to realize that this isn't forgiveness, for her to want absolution more than she already does, so you take a deep breath and look deep into her eyes. They're almost black with need, hooded, her gaze heavy as it runs across your face, searching for something you know she won't see.
On unsteady legs, you stand, forcing Callie to stand too so there's room for you to move. You see the hope written across her face, and you know you're going to win this battle.
You can't see her face when you say the words that roll over and over in your mind though. The satisfaction at your total control only goes so far, and contrary to popular opinion, you're not made of ice. What tenderness you felt towards this woman may have been ripped from you both by her selfish actions, but you're afraid of what may happen if you see her face fall, so you turn away.
“I think you know the way out.”