fic: Drill Commands
TITLE: Drill Commands
AUTHOR: Brio
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: “Do you get to keep the uniform?”
WORDS: 2,457
PAIRINGS: Rachel/Quinn
NOTES: Written for ooc-Rachberry’s birthday. This is a deleted scene from near the end of Chapter 10 of GYBR. Thanks, as always, to my beta, darchino <3
Both women are curled up at opposite ends of the couch, wrapped up in blankets. Outside, the wind is howling against the windows as winter rages against the city. They’ve been sitting like this since they finished dinner an hour ago.
Feeling eyes boring into the top of her head, Rachel sighs and glances up, catching Quinn’s intense gaze.
“What?” Rachel asks, lowering the score for an audition she’ll be performing in a few day’s time. Quinn taps her lips thoughtfully and shrugs her shoulders. “Quinn, what?”
“Nothing,” the blonde replies, grinning as she turns her attention to the book in her hands though she hasn’t retained a word of it thus far.
“Tell me,” Rachel says, stretching out her legs beneath the blanket to run her toe up Quinn’s scarred calf.
“On the way to the airport in Washington, you asked me something,” Quinn says, placing the book in her lap and reaching down to take the brunette’s foot in her hands. She runs her fingertips over the sole, smiling when Rachel shivers at her touch.
“I asked you a few things,” Rachel says, sighing as Quinn’s fingers start to move in circles, pads of her thumbs working out the tension in her muscles.
“You asked me one thing in particular. One thing that’s been playing on my mind a little,” Quinn says, moving the book to the floor and shifting onto her knees, hands returning to the brunette’s foot. After pushing the blanket away from the shorter woman’s legs, she begins to work her way up Rachel’s right calf, fingers massaging up to the knee before pulling back to do the same to her left leg. A soft whimper escapes Rachel’s lips, head rolling back.
“I did?” Rachel tries to recall their conversation on the way to the airport but shakes her head. “You’re going to have to refresh my memory,” she says, a moan tumbling from her lips as Quinn’s fingers find a knot of tension just below Rachel’s left knee. The blonde ducks her head down to press a kiss against the sore spot before massaging the knot away.
“Better?” Quinn asks, shifting her position again, pushing Rachel’s legs a little wider apart and settling between them. Her eyes lock with the brunette’s, teeth running over her bottom lip. “You asked me if I got to keep something.” Quinn’s fingers trail along the hem of the shorts Rachel wears to bed, when she decides to wear anything.
“Oh,” Rachel blushes slightly. “Yes. That’s right.” The thought of Quinn in her sharply pressed trousers, shirt, tie, buttoned jacket and shined shoes sends a jolt through the brunette, as does her recollection of the way that Quinn had moved, purposefully, confidently, assuredly.
“So, you like a woman in uniform?” Quinn’s voice breaks through Rachel’s daydream and she gazes up at the blonde.
“I like whatever you wear,” Rachel says, aware that she’s staring as she watches Quinn’s lips turn upwards into a smirk.
“That’s not what I asked, Rach,” Quinn lets her hands travel up beneath the fabric of the shorts, thumbs stroking the insides of the brunette’s toned thighs. “Is it the suit? Or any sort of uniform? Because I wore combat gear on the set of the movie every day for weeks and you managed to not throw yourself at me.”
“I have incredible restraint,” Rachel murmurs, eyes closing as Quinn’s hands slide closer to where she needs them the most right now. The blonde slows her movements and takes in the sight beneath her, shaking her head slightly from side to side in disbelief.
“Okay,” Quinn says simply and moves away completely, backing up against the other end of the couch. She reaches down and plucks the book from the floor, nestling it in her lap again. Rachel pushes herself up on her elbows and narrows her eyes at the smirking blonde.
“Tease.”
“Sorry,” Quinn says, offering an apologetic half-shrug. Rachel can’t help but think that she’s never witnessed someone show less remorse for their actions.
**
“Attention.”
Rachel glances up from her book, jaw dropping as brisk footsteps rap against the hardwood floor and Quinn comes to stand at the bottom of the bed, a smirk on her features.
“Quinn…” Rachel begins, eyes drinking in every inch of the uniformed woman.
“I said, attention,” Quinn interrupts, taking a step back from the bed and clasping her hands behind her back. Rachel feels a shiver of anticipation run through her body as she drops her book and pushes away the blankets covering her legs. She walks quickly around the bed coming to a halt in front of Quinn, who gives her an appraising look and shakes her head slightly. “Sharpen up, soldier.”
Rachel bites her bottom lip and straightens her back, bringing her arms stiffly to her sides, unclenching her hands. She keeps her gaze steady and concentrates on taking even breaths despite the fact that her body wants nothing more than to throw itself back onto the bed.
Quinn turns to her right and begins to pace back and forth in front of the brunette, hands still clasped at the small of her back.
“Quinn…” Rachel exhales.
“Soldier,” Quinn gets as close to Rachel as possible without touching the brunette, “I do not recall giving the order to break position. Did I give the order?”
“No,” Rachel says, a tremor in her voice as she takes in the stern expression on Quinn’s face.
“No what?” Quinn counters.
“No, Qui-.” The blonde narrows her eyes a little. “No, ma’am.” Quinn nods.
"Better.”
Rachel’s eyes fall from Quinn’s eyes to her lips before dropping down the rest of the blonde’s body and snapping back to attention. Quinn falters at the glint in the brunette’s eyes when their eyes lock again and clasps her hands tighter behind her
“At ease,” she says, stepping back and watching as Rachel relaxes a little. The brunette shifts her weight onto her right leg and moves her left foot slightly away from her right, “Is this what you wanted?”
Quinn gestures to the uniform and watches as Rachel’s eyes travel the length of her body. The brunette cocks her head to the side and smiles.
“Actually, I imagined how amazing it would feel to remove that uniform,” she says, “Ma’am.” Rachel tightens her grip, squeezing her own wrist almost painfully in an attempt to stop herself from grabbing the collar of Quinn’s jacket and pulling their bodies together, mouths meeting in a heated kiss.
“What else did you imagine?” Quinn asks, her stance softening. She clenches her fists behind her back and forces herself to take a deep breath, steadying her body from pushing Rachel back onto the bed. A blush rises up over Rachel’s chest, settling on her cheeks and she averts her gaze. “About face.”
Rachel glances up in confusion and Quinn steps in close again, cheek brushing against the brunette’s.
“It means turn around,” Quinn whispers, letting her tongue trace the outer shell of Rachel’s ear, eliciting the tiniest of moans from the shorter woman’s lips. Hesitating for a few seconds, the brunette turns to face the bed. Quinn keeps her position, body inches from Rachel’s, and closes her eyes for a few seconds, desperately trying to rein in the urge to touch the brunette.
Quinn takes a half-step to the left so that she’s standing directly behind Rachel, though their bodies are still a few inches apart. With trembling hands, she hooks her index fingers into the waistband of Rachel’s shorts and pulls them down, fingertips dragging across the tan flesh. Rachel shuffles her feet a little wider apart and at Quinn’s command raises her right leg followed by her left so that the blonde can toss the shorts away.
“So beautiful,” Quinn whispers, pausing before straightening up. Rachel feels her cheeks burn as she registers the husky timbre of the blonde’s voice and her legs part a little further. Quinn notices the movement and smiles, running her hand down the brunette’s side, passing over her hip bone before dropping down between tanned thighs. The taller woman bites back a moan when she pulls her hand away and inspects the tips of her fingers. Rachel is standing stock still, barely daring to breathe for fear that she’ll start begging; begging for Quinn’s touch, begging for the taller woman to let her turn around so that she can take off piece of fabric of the uniform Quinn’s wearing.
Rachel jumps slightly when delicate fingers brush against her skin and Quinn murmurs a soft apology in her ear before pulling her tank top up over her head. Devoid of her clothing, Rachel’s skin erupts in goosebumps as Quinn’s fingers trace patterns around her waist and over her abdomen, then inch higher until they brush the undersides of her breasts. Her body arches into the touch and a whimper escapes her lips as Quinn’s hands cup her breasts, thumbs pressing sharply against her straining nipples.
“God,” Rachel breathes, eyes rolling back, head falling back onto Quinn’s shoulder. The blonde turns her head slightly and presses her lips against Rachel’s skin, sucking lightly as her fingers move in unison over the hard peaks, rubbing, pinching, tweaking, tugging.
“About face.”
Quinn’s voice wavers as she moves her hands away from Rachel’s body. The brunette turns immediately, staring up at Quinn with darkened eyes and her bottom lip caught between her bottom teeth.
“On the bed.”
Rachel takes a quick step back towards the bed and climbs on, staring expectantly up at her girlfriend. Quinn opens her mouth to speak but finds the words die in her mouth.
“Tell me what you want,” Rachel says, sensing that the blonde is wildly out of her comfort zone. The brunette rests back on her elbows and parts her legs. “It’s just me, Quinn. Only me.” Quinn nods and runs her teeth over her bottom lip, gathering her thoughts before continuing.
“Touch yourself,” she says, less confidently than she wants to sound. She begins to unbutton her jacket, sliding it down her arms and tossing it towards the chair in the corner of the room.
“Where?” Rachel asks, running the tip of her middle finger around her nipple.
“Lie back. Both hands on your breasts, rolling your nipples between your thumbs and index fingers.”
Rachel nods and does exactly as Quinn says; practiced hands kneading and massaging as she pinches her nipples. The blonde unfastens her belt and pushes her trousers down, shucking off her shoes and kicking them to one side.
“Tell me how it feels.”
“It doesn’t feel as good as the way you were touching me,” Rachel says, closing her eyes as she tugs lightly on her right nipple, “Ma’am.”
Quinn feels a tremor run through her body and she closes her eyes to calm herself again, pausing as she loosens her tie.
“Run your left hand down your body, down between your legs and tell me how wet you are.”
Rachel’s hips jerk upwards slightly as she carries out the next instruction. Her legs spread a little wider and she smiles at the sharp intake of breath she hears Quinn take as she runs two fingers from her clit to her entrance, moaning softly. The blonde is undoing the buttons on her shirt, fumbling as she watches the brunette intensely.
“Soaked,” is the response.
“Touch your clit.”
“Fuck,” Rachel hisses as her fingers return to her clit, circling around it before pressing hard against it. Her hips cant towards the ceiling and she gasps. “Please, Quinn.”
“Wait,” Quinn says, a grin working it’s way across her features, her shirt still hanging open, “Wait.”
Still pinching her nipple, Rachel lies still, desperately ignoring the urge to start moving her left hand, to bring herself to some kind of release. Without meaning to, her hips rise up again and Quinn tuts, starting to close the buttons of her shirt again.
“Wait,” the blonde repeats and Rachel nods, concentrating all of her energy into not moving the lower half of her body. Satisfied that Rachel isn’t going to move, Quinn opens her shirt again. It joins the rest of the clothes on the floor. “Slowly.”
Rachel groans in relief as she begins to move her fingers in measured circles, keeping her eyes on Quinn. The blonde reaches behind her back to unhook her bra.
“A little faster.”
Rachel’s hips begin to move in time with her fingers as she picks up the pace.
“Faster.”
“God,” Rachel moans as she increases her speed once again, her other hand falling to the blankets, fingers curling around the edge. A familiar coiling sensation starts to work it’s way through her body and she presses harder against her clit, ready for release.
“Stop.”
Rachel’s mouth falls open in a silent growl as her eyes snap back to Quinn’s. Her fingers cease all movement and she pants, staring up at the blonde. Unbidden, her hips jerk upwards, craving purchase.
“What?” she demands.
“Stop.”
Quinn pulls off her remaining clothes and kneels on the foot of the bed as Rachel closes her eyes, listening to the rushing of blood around her ears. The brunette’s hips jerk again and she groans.
“Continue.”
Rachel opens her eyes, narrowing them at the blonde. Her hand begins to move, fingers drawing quick circles as she finds her rhythm again. She works quickly, bringing herself back to the edge, ready to make those final few strokes that will push her over when Quinn parts her lips.
“Stop.”
Rachel’s groan of frustration causes the blonde to chuckle.
“Glad you think it’s funny,” Rachel hisses through gritted teeth as Quinn moves further up the bed, settling between the brunette’s bended knees. “Quinn, please.”
“Continue,” Quinn murmurs as she pushes her fingers against Rachel’s entrance, thrusting two fingers deep inside as the brunette begins to circle her clit again. A series of gasps and groans and curses follow as Rachel brings herself over the edge, head falling back against the blankets as she arches off the bed.
Breathing heavily, she slows her hand until her hips stop twitching, aftershocks still coursing through her body. She feels the bed dip beside her and turns her head to face the grinning blonde.
“Mean,” Rachel pants, “Very mean.”
“Beautiful,” Quinn counters, brushing a few strands of hair from the brunette’s forehead.
“Flattery will not distract me, Ms Fabray. That was quite despicable,” Rachel tries to sound as indignant as possible. Quinn shifts onto her side, bringing her body closer to the brunette’s, letting her hips roll against Rachel’s thigh.
“Maybe you can wear the uniform next time then.”
Rachel bites down on her bottom lip as the tips of Quinn’s fingers draw tiny hearts across the brunette’s chest.
"Deal.”
AUTHOR: Brio
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: “Do you get to keep the uniform?”
WORDS: 2,457
PAIRINGS: Rachel/Quinn
NOTES: Written for ooc-Rachberry’s birthday. This is a deleted scene from near the end of Chapter 10 of GYBR. Thanks, as always, to my beta, darchino <3
Both women are curled up at opposite ends of the couch, wrapped up in blankets. Outside, the wind is howling against the windows as winter rages against the city. They’ve been sitting like this since they finished dinner an hour ago.
Feeling eyes boring into the top of her head, Rachel sighs and glances up, catching Quinn’s intense gaze.
“What?” Rachel asks, lowering the score for an audition she’ll be performing in a few day’s time. Quinn taps her lips thoughtfully and shrugs her shoulders. “Quinn, what?”
“Nothing,” the blonde replies, grinning as she turns her attention to the book in her hands though she hasn’t retained a word of it thus far.
“Tell me,” Rachel says, stretching out her legs beneath the blanket to run her toe up Quinn’s scarred calf.
“On the way to the airport in Washington, you asked me something,” Quinn says, placing the book in her lap and reaching down to take the brunette’s foot in her hands. She runs her fingertips over the sole, smiling when Rachel shivers at her touch.
“I asked you a few things,” Rachel says, sighing as Quinn’s fingers start to move in circles, pads of her thumbs working out the tension in her muscles.
“You asked me one thing in particular. One thing that’s been playing on my mind a little,” Quinn says, moving the book to the floor and shifting onto her knees, hands returning to the brunette’s foot. After pushing the blanket away from the shorter woman’s legs, she begins to work her way up Rachel’s right calf, fingers massaging up to the knee before pulling back to do the same to her left leg. A soft whimper escapes Rachel’s lips, head rolling back.
“I did?” Rachel tries to recall their conversation on the way to the airport but shakes her head. “You’re going to have to refresh my memory,” she says, a moan tumbling from her lips as Quinn’s fingers find a knot of tension just below Rachel’s left knee. The blonde ducks her head down to press a kiss against the sore spot before massaging the knot away.
“Better?” Quinn asks, shifting her position again, pushing Rachel’s legs a little wider apart and settling between them. Her eyes lock with the brunette’s, teeth running over her bottom lip. “You asked me if I got to keep something.” Quinn’s fingers trail along the hem of the shorts Rachel wears to bed, when she decides to wear anything.
“Oh,” Rachel blushes slightly. “Yes. That’s right.” The thought of Quinn in her sharply pressed trousers, shirt, tie, buttoned jacket and shined shoes sends a jolt through the brunette, as does her recollection of the way that Quinn had moved, purposefully, confidently, assuredly.
“So, you like a woman in uniform?” Quinn’s voice breaks through Rachel’s daydream and she gazes up at the blonde.
“I like whatever you wear,” Rachel says, aware that she’s staring as she watches Quinn’s lips turn upwards into a smirk.
“That’s not what I asked, Rach,” Quinn lets her hands travel up beneath the fabric of the shorts, thumbs stroking the insides of the brunette’s toned thighs. “Is it the suit? Or any sort of uniform? Because I wore combat gear on the set of the movie every day for weeks and you managed to not throw yourself at me.”
“I have incredible restraint,” Rachel murmurs, eyes closing as Quinn’s hands slide closer to where she needs them the most right now. The blonde slows her movements and takes in the sight beneath her, shaking her head slightly from side to side in disbelief.
“Okay,” Quinn says simply and moves away completely, backing up against the other end of the couch. She reaches down and plucks the book from the floor, nestling it in her lap again. Rachel pushes herself up on her elbows and narrows her eyes at the smirking blonde.
“Tease.”
“Sorry,” Quinn says, offering an apologetic half-shrug. Rachel can’t help but think that she’s never witnessed someone show less remorse for their actions.
**
“Attention.”
Rachel glances up from her book, jaw dropping as brisk footsteps rap against the hardwood floor and Quinn comes to stand at the bottom of the bed, a smirk on her features.
“Quinn…” Rachel begins, eyes drinking in every inch of the uniformed woman.
“I said, attention,” Quinn interrupts, taking a step back from the bed and clasping her hands behind her back. Rachel feels a shiver of anticipation run through her body as she drops her book and pushes away the blankets covering her legs. She walks quickly around the bed coming to a halt in front of Quinn, who gives her an appraising look and shakes her head slightly. “Sharpen up, soldier.”
Rachel bites her bottom lip and straightens her back, bringing her arms stiffly to her sides, unclenching her hands. She keeps her gaze steady and concentrates on taking even breaths despite the fact that her body wants nothing more than to throw itself back onto the bed.
Quinn turns to her right and begins to pace back and forth in front of the brunette, hands still clasped at the small of her back.
“Quinn…” Rachel exhales.
“Soldier,” Quinn gets as close to Rachel as possible without touching the brunette, “I do not recall giving the order to break position. Did I give the order?”
“No,” Rachel says, a tremor in her voice as she takes in the stern expression on Quinn’s face.
“No what?” Quinn counters.
“No, Qui-.” The blonde narrows her eyes a little. “No, ma’am.” Quinn nods.
"Better.”
Rachel’s eyes fall from Quinn’s eyes to her lips before dropping down the rest of the blonde’s body and snapping back to attention. Quinn falters at the glint in the brunette’s eyes when their eyes lock again and clasps her hands tighter behind her
“At ease,” she says, stepping back and watching as Rachel relaxes a little. The brunette shifts her weight onto her right leg and moves her left foot slightly away from her right, “Is this what you wanted?”
Quinn gestures to the uniform and watches as Rachel’s eyes travel the length of her body. The brunette cocks her head to the side and smiles.
“Actually, I imagined how amazing it would feel to remove that uniform,” she says, “Ma’am.” Rachel tightens her grip, squeezing her own wrist almost painfully in an attempt to stop herself from grabbing the collar of Quinn’s jacket and pulling their bodies together, mouths meeting in a heated kiss.
“What else did you imagine?” Quinn asks, her stance softening. She clenches her fists behind her back and forces herself to take a deep breath, steadying her body from pushing Rachel back onto the bed. A blush rises up over Rachel’s chest, settling on her cheeks and she averts her gaze. “About face.”
Rachel glances up in confusion and Quinn steps in close again, cheek brushing against the brunette’s.
“It means turn around,” Quinn whispers, letting her tongue trace the outer shell of Rachel’s ear, eliciting the tiniest of moans from the shorter woman’s lips. Hesitating for a few seconds, the brunette turns to face the bed. Quinn keeps her position, body inches from Rachel’s, and closes her eyes for a few seconds, desperately trying to rein in the urge to touch the brunette.
Quinn takes a half-step to the left so that she’s standing directly behind Rachel, though their bodies are still a few inches apart. With trembling hands, she hooks her index fingers into the waistband of Rachel’s shorts and pulls them down, fingertips dragging across the tan flesh. Rachel shuffles her feet a little wider apart and at Quinn’s command raises her right leg followed by her left so that the blonde can toss the shorts away.
“So beautiful,” Quinn whispers, pausing before straightening up. Rachel feels her cheeks burn as she registers the husky timbre of the blonde’s voice and her legs part a little further. Quinn notices the movement and smiles, running her hand down the brunette’s side, passing over her hip bone before dropping down between tanned thighs. The taller woman bites back a moan when she pulls her hand away and inspects the tips of her fingers. Rachel is standing stock still, barely daring to breathe for fear that she’ll start begging; begging for Quinn’s touch, begging for the taller woman to let her turn around so that she can take off piece of fabric of the uniform Quinn’s wearing.
Rachel jumps slightly when delicate fingers brush against her skin and Quinn murmurs a soft apology in her ear before pulling her tank top up over her head. Devoid of her clothing, Rachel’s skin erupts in goosebumps as Quinn’s fingers trace patterns around her waist and over her abdomen, then inch higher until they brush the undersides of her breasts. Her body arches into the touch and a whimper escapes her lips as Quinn’s hands cup her breasts, thumbs pressing sharply against her straining nipples.
“God,” Rachel breathes, eyes rolling back, head falling back onto Quinn’s shoulder. The blonde turns her head slightly and presses her lips against Rachel’s skin, sucking lightly as her fingers move in unison over the hard peaks, rubbing, pinching, tweaking, tugging.
“About face.”
Quinn’s voice wavers as she moves her hands away from Rachel’s body. The brunette turns immediately, staring up at Quinn with darkened eyes and her bottom lip caught between her bottom teeth.
“On the bed.”
Rachel takes a quick step back towards the bed and climbs on, staring expectantly up at her girlfriend. Quinn opens her mouth to speak but finds the words die in her mouth.
“Tell me what you want,” Rachel says, sensing that the blonde is wildly out of her comfort zone. The brunette rests back on her elbows and parts her legs. “It’s just me, Quinn. Only me.” Quinn nods and runs her teeth over her bottom lip, gathering her thoughts before continuing.
“Touch yourself,” she says, less confidently than she wants to sound. She begins to unbutton her jacket, sliding it down her arms and tossing it towards the chair in the corner of the room.
“Where?” Rachel asks, running the tip of her middle finger around her nipple.
“Lie back. Both hands on your breasts, rolling your nipples between your thumbs and index fingers.”
Rachel nods and does exactly as Quinn says; practiced hands kneading and massaging as she pinches her nipples. The blonde unfastens her belt and pushes her trousers down, shucking off her shoes and kicking them to one side.
“Tell me how it feels.”
“It doesn’t feel as good as the way you were touching me,” Rachel says, closing her eyes as she tugs lightly on her right nipple, “Ma’am.”
Quinn feels a tremor run through her body and she closes her eyes to calm herself again, pausing as she loosens her tie.
“Run your left hand down your body, down between your legs and tell me how wet you are.”
Rachel’s hips jerk upwards slightly as she carries out the next instruction. Her legs spread a little wider and she smiles at the sharp intake of breath she hears Quinn take as she runs two fingers from her clit to her entrance, moaning softly. The blonde is undoing the buttons on her shirt, fumbling as she watches the brunette intensely.
“Soaked,” is the response.
“Touch your clit.”
“Fuck,” Rachel hisses as her fingers return to her clit, circling around it before pressing hard against it. Her hips cant towards the ceiling and she gasps. “Please, Quinn.”
“Wait,” Quinn says, a grin working it’s way across her features, her shirt still hanging open, “Wait.”
Still pinching her nipple, Rachel lies still, desperately ignoring the urge to start moving her left hand, to bring herself to some kind of release. Without meaning to, her hips rise up again and Quinn tuts, starting to close the buttons of her shirt again.
“Wait,” the blonde repeats and Rachel nods, concentrating all of her energy into not moving the lower half of her body. Satisfied that Rachel isn’t going to move, Quinn opens her shirt again. It joins the rest of the clothes on the floor. “Slowly.”
Rachel groans in relief as she begins to move her fingers in measured circles, keeping her eyes on Quinn. The blonde reaches behind her back to unhook her bra.
“A little faster.”
Rachel’s hips begin to move in time with her fingers as she picks up the pace.
“Faster.”
“God,” Rachel moans as she increases her speed once again, her other hand falling to the blankets, fingers curling around the edge. A familiar coiling sensation starts to work it’s way through her body and she presses harder against her clit, ready for release.
“Stop.”
Rachel’s mouth falls open in a silent growl as her eyes snap back to Quinn’s. Her fingers cease all movement and she pants, staring up at the blonde. Unbidden, her hips jerk upwards, craving purchase.
“What?” she demands.
“Stop.”
Quinn pulls off her remaining clothes and kneels on the foot of the bed as Rachel closes her eyes, listening to the rushing of blood around her ears. The brunette’s hips jerk again and she groans.
“Continue.”
Rachel opens her eyes, narrowing them at the blonde. Her hand begins to move, fingers drawing quick circles as she finds her rhythm again. She works quickly, bringing herself back to the edge, ready to make those final few strokes that will push her over when Quinn parts her lips.
“Stop.”
Rachel’s groan of frustration causes the blonde to chuckle.
“Glad you think it’s funny,” Rachel hisses through gritted teeth as Quinn moves further up the bed, settling between the brunette’s bended knees. “Quinn, please.”
“Continue,” Quinn murmurs as she pushes her fingers against Rachel’s entrance, thrusting two fingers deep inside as the brunette begins to circle her clit again. A series of gasps and groans and curses follow as Rachel brings herself over the edge, head falling back against the blankets as she arches off the bed.
Breathing heavily, she slows her hand until her hips stop twitching, aftershocks still coursing through her body. She feels the bed dip beside her and turns her head to face the grinning blonde.
“Mean,” Rachel pants, “Very mean.”
“Beautiful,” Quinn counters, brushing a few strands of hair from the brunette’s forehead.
“Flattery will not distract me, Ms Fabray. That was quite despicable,” Rachel tries to sound as indignant as possible. Quinn shifts onto her side, bringing her body closer to the brunette’s, letting her hips roll against Rachel’s thigh.
“Maybe you can wear the uniform next time then.”
Rachel bites down on her bottom lip as the tips of Quinn’s fingers draw tiny hearts across the brunette’s chest.
"Deal.”