And just like that, the taut cord between them snaps. Quinn crashes into Rachel mouthfirst, and while the action is rapid, the kiss itself is not. It's a gentle slide of lips on lips, soft but deliberate. Just like before, Rachel thinks, it's like she's always been here. With Quinn, she fits. Her hips fit perfectly in the grip of Quinn's hands, her body fits flush against Quinn's, her own wandering hands fit against the nape of Quinn's neck.
So Rachel kisses back with zeal. She is all soft and lips and a brushing tongue against Quinn's lower lip until the tongue is replaced by a light bite. A surprised, appreciative moan comes unbidden from Quinn's throat, and something flips inside Rachel, something that pools hot and fierce below her navel. The same thing must be happening to Quinn because Rachel finds herself pressed against the cool wall of her bedroom.
The kisses are coming hard now, more fierce, more teeth and tongue against swollen lips. Before, she thought she could stay this way forever, but now Rachel needs more and nothing is enough. She pulls Quinn closer, seeking purchase against her toned thigh to quell a growing ache. It initially seems to have the opposite effect when Quinn pulls her mouth away, but then Rachel feels her neck being gently tilted—exposed—and Quinn's wet mouth is against the smooth skin of her neck. Rachel can't control the moan that falls from her mouth, low and guttural, dovetailing into a hiss when Quinn's teeth scrape against her. Her hands jerk up to tangle in Quinn's hair, tugging slightly, and the two of them enter a push and pull of painful pleasure.
When Quinn sucks the skin on Rachel's neck, Rachel's vision goes black, and another moan tumbles from her mouth. The logical part of her brain takes over her mouth, and she mumbles, "fuck...ah, careful. Don't leave a mark."
She feels Quinn smirk against her. "It's hard to be careful when you make noises like that."
"Quinn, ahh, we're not a pair of horny fifteen-year-olds. Hickeys aren't en vogue in the business casual world." While Rachel protests, it does feel awfully good. Quinn's tongue laves against the spot she just suckled, and a large part of her doesn't want Quinn to stop.
"Qu—" and her protest grows into a moan when Quinn grinds her thigh into Rachel's core. She forgets how to breathe, forgets everything for a moment other than the feeling of this, them together. Quinn's mouth returns to Rachel's. Then Rachel is grinding against Quinn, her grip in her hair tightened for purchase, riding Quinn's thigh, their kiss turning sloppy. A little thrust sends Rachel moaning into Quinn's mouth. She could come from just this.
Quinn breaks the kiss to look at Rachel, and the hungry darkness in those hazel eyes sends another shudder down Rachel's abdomen and to the part of her flush against Quinn's thigh.
Rachel blinks a few times, coming back to herself, finding her voice again. "Why'd you stop?"
Quinn smirks, a glint sparkling in those dark eyes. "Nothing."
"What?"
"You said you weren't a horny fifteen-year-old, but," Quinn pauses to lean close to Rachel again, "dry humping against the wall isn't exactly proving your point."
Rachel's voice is low and husky when she replies, "Baby, I assure you there is nothing dry about this process." And Rachel didn't think it was possible, but she watches Quinn's eyes darken even more. She leverages her grip in Quinn's hair to pull her back into a searing kiss, and she tries to convey all that she wants but cannot voice. I want you to want me. I want you to fuck me. I want us to fuck until we forget our names. I want to come around your fingers and I want to forget the world with you. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.
Overcome with want, Rachel flips Quinn and starts dragging her mouth down her body. She yanks Quinn by the hair to bare her neck, a little more violently than she'd meant to, and Quinn inhales sharply. "Shit, are you okay? I didn't mean—" Rachel starts.
"No, I—" Quinn says breathlessly, "I mean, yes. Yeah. That's okay, yeah." A haze of pink tints her cheeks. Oh.
Rachel smirks. "Do you like it when I—" she tugs Quinn by the hair again, and this time she hears the want in Quinn's gasp, "—like it when I pull your hair like this? Rough you up a bit?" Quinn nods enthusiastically, cut off only when Rachel pulls her hair again and immediately attaches her mouth to begin sucking at Quinn's pulse point. Quinn squirms against her at lets out a full moan that neither was expecting.
"I...I thought we said no hickies," Quinn says while making no attempt to actually stop Rachel from working against her.
"No," Rachel says around a mouthful of Quinn, "I said no hickeys. You tried to mouth fuck me against this wall, and I'm returning the favor, and you don't seem to be complaining."
"Oh my god, how are you still talking this much?" Quinn asks, a laugh at the end of her question.
"Again, you don't seem to be c—" Rachel is cut off when Quinn kisses her again, lifting up and seizing her by the hips and flipping the pair once more. Their hips move against each other, first in small circles and then with purpose.
Quinn shuffles her hands, and Rachel isn't quite aware of it until fingers are tracing soft circles on the inside of her wrists. The next thing she knows, Quinn has pinned Rachel's hands to the wall with her left hand, her right hand trailing slowly down Rachel's body. Rachel's hips buck involuntarily at the action; once again, she finds herself exposed, prone, but knowing that this is Quinn doing this to her gives her a small thrill.
Quinn's wandering hand cups Rachel's breast, gives it a squeeze. She brushes her thumb over Rachel's taut nipple, and even through the fabric of her bra and shirt, Rachel feels it to her core. Her hands strain against Quinn's—she just needs to touch her—but Quinn chuckles low. "Ah, ah," she says. "You're not allowed to touch." Rachel twists her hands against Quinn's one more time just to prove she can, and something glints in Quinn's eye.
Quinn continues feeling down her body, over a toned stomach and resting at the hem of Rachel's shirt. When Quinn slips under her shirt and drags her fingers across the bare skin of Rachel's stomach and hips, Rachel sees stars. And then Quinn is fumbling at her pants with that one magic hand, and by some grace and a bit of witchcraft, gets the zipper of Rachel's pants open. Rachel tenses in anticipation of Quinn's touch. A beat passes, and then another, and Rachel begins to squirm. Quinn's voice comes husky in her ear, "A little eager, aren't we?"
A desperate "please" falls out of Rachel's mouth, tinged with want and frustration and all the other things that Quinn brings out in her.
Quinn's fingers ghost down, rest ever so softly on the outside of Rachel's underwear. "What exactly is it that you want?" Rachel tries to buck her hips into Quinn's hand, but Quinn moves away. "Tell me."
Rachel groans. "Touch me, please."
Quinn moves swiftly, hand coming back to fully cup the heat and wet that is Rachel. They both inhale at the sudden touch. "Wow," Quinn breathes. "You weren't joking when said there was nothing dry here." She slides two fingers along damp cotton, teasing Rachel's slit. Over the underwear is not enough, but Rachel still bucks into the touch. After a few moments of rubbing, Quinn brings her fingers to Rachel's clit and presses hard; Rachel moans loud and long, her head lolling forward to rest against Quinn's shoulder. Quinn rubs circles, small and tight, and Rachel again thinks that she could almost come from this. She certainly is wet enough. God, she's almost embarrassed at how soaked she is, how Quinn has completely undone her without much effort.
Quinn removes her hand, and Rachel aches at the brief loss until Quinn's nimble fingers slide down the front of her underwear. Nothing has ever felt as good as two of Quinn's fingers exploring between her folds, putting light pressure as she continues the small circles around Rachel's clit. It's still not enough, but it's better. Rachel gasps when Quinn slips one finger inside her and curls. "Tease," she breathes out, even as she leans into the touch.
Then Quinn is kissing her again, and when Rachel kisses back, it's sloppy tongue and teeth and need. When Quinn adds a second finger and begins pumping in earnest, Rachel moans into Quinn's mouth and kisses her more fiercely, and Quinn moans a little in turn. The firm press of Quinn's thumb combined with curling fingers makes Rachel's clit twitch, and Rachel breaks the kiss, head twisting in pleasure, a guttural "fuck" coming from her mouth. They look at each other for a moment, each breathing heavily, eyes heavy and lidded, Quinn still slowly fucking Rachel. It is only when Quinn adds a half circle motion with her thumb that Rachel loses herself. Her hips buck more frantically, searching for purchase. Quinn moves her fingers faster, deeper, hitting spots Rachel didn't know she had.
Dirty little nothings beginto tumble from Rachel's lips, soft fucks and ahhhs and reverent Quinns. It is especially the latter that spurs Quinn on. Quinn's mouth is back on her neck, tongue tracing patterns in sensitive skin. Liquid lightning begins pulsing in Rachel's core, growing more vibrant with each of Quinn's movements. "Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop. I'm so close. Don't stop." Something crescendos inside of her. The lightning builds and blossoms and she is bucking into Quinn and crying out, clenching around those perfect fingers, falling over the edge, supernovas behind her eyes.
She wraps her arms around Quinn's neck, and it takes a moment for her to realize her hands are free. Quinn has taken her left hand back as leverage, because she has slowed down but not stopped entirely. Her fingers tease, rolling all the way out then slamming into Rachel hard. The tempo is slow but steady. Rachel's skin is sensitive, electric, but she won't ask her to stop. She leans her sweaty forehead against Quinn's, causing the other to meet her eyes once again. Heady from her first orgasm, Rachel is a bit surprised to see the fullness of Quinn's desire deep in her eyes. They are piercing, hazel, and dark. They stare at each other, breathing each other's air, Rachel getting lost in those eyes. Her second orgasm sneaks up on her and she tumbles unbidden into a sea of green.
This time, Quinn lets Rachel rise the jerks of her orgasm before pulling her fingers out and giving them a languid suck and accompanying moan of delight. Rachel's stomach flips when she imagines what else that mouth can do. "You're going to be the death of me," she says with a chuckle. She cups Quinn's cheek and kisses her softly for a few moments or a few hours, and once recovered, begins walking her backward to the bed.