Pulp Fiction #21 - The Passion Game
Title: The Passion Game
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Barbara/Cass
Prompt: Lesbian Pulp Fiction #21
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 250
Notes: BDSM
The back of a pale hand traces over her face. Knuckles, then fingers, then nails. Gentle.
Cass doesn’t want gentle. Not right now. She stares back at Barbara, eyes burning with how much she wants this, how much she needs it.
But she won’t arch into the touch. She’ll follow the rules.
She’ll remain still, straddling Barbara’s lap, bare knees digging into the pillows on the oversized bed. She’ll keep her breathing regulated, won’t pant or whine or moan for it.
Cass can tell by the look on her face, eyes narrow and dark with lust, that Barbara is pleased with her.
Two fingers press under her chin, tilt her head up, and Cass couldn’t look away from the expression on Barbara’s face if she tried.
A sharp smile, the kind that bares teeth like a predator. Barbara always recognises when Cass is ready, when she wants more.
“Now,” Barbara whispers.
And then Cass is surging forward, mouth hard and insistent over Barbara’s, biting at her lips, gripping at her hair, letting everything she’s ever wanted from Barbara spill into the kiss.
Barbara’s hands move to her waist, fingers sliding over damp skin, holding her steady as Cass loses herself in the touch.
Cass likes the games. She likes Barbara’s control.
Sometimes she likes to give up her own control.
Barbara is the only person Cass will surrender that to.
Because Barbara doesn’t want anything more from Cass than her happiness.
And that’s what the games are about, after all.
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Barbara/Cass
Prompt: Lesbian Pulp Fiction #21
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 250
Notes: BDSM
The back of a pale hand traces over her face. Knuckles, then fingers, then nails. Gentle.
Cass doesn’t want gentle. Not right now. She stares back at Barbara, eyes burning with how much she wants this, how much she needs it.
But she won’t arch into the touch. She’ll follow the rules.
She’ll remain still, straddling Barbara’s lap, bare knees digging into the pillows on the oversized bed. She’ll keep her breathing regulated, won’t pant or whine or moan for it.
Cass can tell by the look on her face, eyes narrow and dark with lust, that Barbara is pleased with her.
Two fingers press under her chin, tilt her head up, and Cass couldn’t look away from the expression on Barbara’s face if she tried.
A sharp smile, the kind that bares teeth like a predator. Barbara always recognises when Cass is ready, when she wants more.
“Now,” Barbara whispers.
And then Cass is surging forward, mouth hard and insistent over Barbara’s, biting at her lips, gripping at her hair, letting everything she’s ever wanted from Barbara spill into the kiss.
Barbara’s hands move to her waist, fingers sliding over damp skin, holding her steady as Cass loses herself in the touch.
Cass likes the games. She likes Barbara’s control.
Sometimes she likes to give up her own control.
Barbara is the only person Cass will surrender that to.
Because Barbara doesn’t want anything more from Cass than her happiness.
And that’s what the games are about, after all.