Santana Lopez—the Santana Lopez was kissing her way down my stomach.
Her eyebrow dropped and her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied me. I fidgeted under her gaze, how was she able to do that sort of thing to me?
She looked at me like I mattered, like she needed me, like all the happiness in her world was somehow bound to her, and it made a fierce longing, like she'd never experienced before.
The weight of her shoulder pushed me beneath her, down and into the mattress. My head spun; my pulse thundered in my ears because of her. My boss, the woman who signed my paychecks, Santana fucking Lopez. Skating her mouth down my breasts, and heading straight for my most intimate place.
Jesus Christ.
"Shh, Quinn." She said at my broken moan. My stomach clenched at the heat of her breath on my skin. "Let me take care of you."
Sure. Like she'd taken care of me for the past five months? Sweaty groping in empty offices after hours and stolen lunches in discount hotels? It was my own fault anyway, my own fault for flirting after I caught her checking out my ass once I'd been promoted from data entry to the secretarial pool on the executive floor. My fault for giving into her again and again after my please—fuck—me smile had resulted in me bent over her desk that first night in her office.
My fault for mistaking sex for something more.
God knows the girls had tried to warn me. Not that I'd needed office gossip to confirm the wicked glitter in her gorgeous dark eyes was the mark of a player. I didn't need anyone to tell me that having sex with one of my bosses was every conceivable level of stupid, either. It hadn't mattered, because one look from Santana had wiped every common sense from my head. And it still did.
Evidence A for the Prosecution: I was needy, naked and squirming for more under the heavy press of her body when I'd sworn it wouldn't happen again. When I'd promised to be stronger. That this time, I'd resist. Two minutes of her kisses under the mistletoe in the break room was all it'd taken to disintegrate my resolve. Even now, writhing and sweating out my arousal, I was proud of that.
Two minutes. Not one. Two. I hadn't crumbled under the first kiss, when her tongue had traced the crease of my lips, or even the next, when her perfect white teeth had nipped my bottom lip the way she knew I liked.
I'd fallen just the same, though. Hard. Like the fat snowflakes that plummeted from the gray sky to blanket the city. I hadn't spoken a word in protest when she'd guided me from break room to parking lot, nor had I refused the branding warmth of her soft hand on my thigh as her car had crunched through acres of snow to reach some unknown apartment on the other side of town.
I was such an easy slut for her. And damn it, she knew it. I closed my eyes when she bit down on the tender skin between my thigh and that sensitive part where I needed her.
"Did you miss me?" Santana buried her nose in my thigh and sucked in a deep breath. "I know you did. Tell me you missed me."
No. God, no. I trembled, senses whirling as she kept kissing my thigh, but no matter the torture of her mouth on me, I wouldn't say it. Not that I needed to. We both knew the truth.
Of course I'd missed her. With every beat of my broken heart.
I fisted my hands in the sheet covering the sparse mattress and groaned out wanton lust as Santana worked her way up to my belly button, lips skimming over me so good I fought against her grip to push her closer.
"Quinn?" She rumbled, voice tight in warning.
Fuck pride. I didn't need pride. I need her mouth on me.
"Please just shut up, and fuck me."
She traced delicate circles with her tongue, going down again. If she didn't wrap her full lips around me soon, I'd lose my mind.
"Alright, but no more dodging my phone calls. No running away when I look for you at work and when I knock on your apartment door? You'll damn well open it. When we have problems, we'll talk them out. No more hiding. Do you understand?" Her hands held me in place, exactly where she wanted me, with one of my legs over her shoulder, but my back arched, fiery sparks shooting through my body with each taunting lick.
"Santana please stop talking." I groaned.
She kissed my clit. "Say 'Yes, Santana, I understand' and I'll suck your brains out through your precious vagina."
I slammed my head back to the mattress, wiggling in earnest now.
"I—I won't say any of that. We broke up, remember?"
"And now we're un-breaking up." She flashed an evil grin. "Baby, if you didn't still love me, do you think you'd let me do this?"
She lowered her head. I cried out, my orgasm already tingling at the base of my spine and she hadn't even touched me properly yet.
And of course she was right, I wouldn't let her go down on me if I didn't still love her, all of her. But she raised her sinful mouth, blowing on my sensitive clit so I shuddered and groaned instead.
"Tell me you still love me, Quinn."
I panted.
"You still love me Quinn."
She laughed against my crotch. God, I hated her laugh. Loved it. Longed for it. I'd ached for the teasing sparkle in her eyes and dreamed of her smile with those dimples the two weeks we'd been apart, but I'd missed her low, husky chuckle most of all.
"Smartass." She grinned at me, she swallowed my clit in one gluttonous gulp.
My breath locked in my chest. My eyes slammed shut.
That felt so good. There was no point fighting her anymore; that train had left the station when I'd lapped at the tongue she'd pushed into my mouth in the break room as though she'd offered me a tasty treat. So I didn't fight it. She'd have her way, as she had so many times before, and I'd let her because no matter that my head shrieked that I shouldn't—couldn't—be with her, my hormones disagreed and my heart; my fool heart, needed her more than I needed my next breath.
She finally used her tongue for good measure, working on my clit as her fingers played with my lower lips.
Jesus.
"Santana," I whimpered, working my hips against her grip and gasping for air. She released my hip, giving me free rein to rock forward into her mouth.
My inner walls tightened around her tongue at the same time her slick finger glided up to tap my entrance and I suddenly couldn't stand it any more.
Her finger thrust inside me, crooking to find my favorite spot. I spurted what must've been most of my brains down her throat.
She licked away my liquid for long minutes while my head whirled in the giddy, electrifying chaos. A second finger joined the first plundering inside me. I grunted and rocked in time to her pumping fingers to bury her in me as far as she could go. I shook. She sucked my lips, sending equal measures of pleasure and splintery pain to my belly.
"God, you taste so sweet." She whimpered. "Been chugging pineapple juice by the gallon, I bet. You knew I'd chase after you."
Well, I'd hoped. But with her fingers inside me and her mouth punishing me, all I could do was whine mindlessly. She pulled off me with a rude, wet noise.
"I'll never give this up." She smiled up at me, her lips obscenely swollen and red. "I'll never give you up babe."
"You already gave this up," I remembered her, and she just rolled her eyes with her fabulous fingers still inside of me.
"No. I just say I never will." Her fingers curled, sending insistent jolts of pleasure through my trembling body.
I tossed my head to the side on the mattress, lost in what she was doing to me. Lost in everything that was our sex and Santana's smell, the silky press of her skin on mine, the wondrous magic of her fingers dancing inside me.
She lifted up to kiss my hip and then my lips.
"I'll keep you with me all weekend, what do you think?"
I blinked at her. The weekend? The whole weekend?
What about work then? What about the Board that had banned fraternization among employees? What about my job? Her thrusting fingers nailed my sweet spot again, shooting a bolt of pleasure. I bucked my hips, riding her palm so that her fingers tunneled deeper into me.
To hell with it. Shitty job, anyway. I'll keep her all weekend, too.
She stroked me. So hard. So good. My heels dug into the sheets, my toes curling. Her mouth slammed down over mine, her tongue spearing inside. I tasted myself on her.
"I missed you so much." She panted against my lips.
I looked at her then, and God, how can she be so damn sexy and beautiful. I lifted my head and kissed her again, so hungry for her.
"God, I missed you." She whispered again before bent low to brush her lips over mine.
Her dark eyes shone with warmth. I was turning into such a teenage girl that bordered on adoration.
"I missed you, too." I said.
Then my heart stopped. I swear I saw stars, her fingers begin to slow down its rhythm after giving me a really good orgasm. This woman was seriously talented.
"I missed your sexy butt, babe" Santana said, and I rolled my eyes playfully. "Missed your smell, your taste." Her fingers dug into my hips. "Missed your fuck—me—Santana smile teasing me at work." My back bowed in relaxation as she continued. She rubbed her nose along my jaw as I smiled. "I missed your stupid jokes." She skimmed her lips back to mine to kiss me, sweeping her so delicious tongue in. "I even missed this." Another kiss. "Smart." Playful bite. "Mouth."
I wailed in protest when she pulled away, lifting over me to stare down, eyes stark and predatory. And then she froze. Just stopped, and all I could do was pant and stare back.
"I know you said you needed time," She said on a low snarl that made my body clench like a fist around her. I loved it when she looked at me like that, like she'd never get enough of me and would shred any man or woman who dared to keep us apart. Including me. "But fuck, it was a really stupid idea."
That? Well yeah, a terrible idea that made me want to die and cry for days. But I thought it was for the best.
Looking back at her now though, I can't be really mad anymore; I lived for that look. Possessive. Greedy. Her furious glare told me that I truly mattered to her, that I was maybe the only thing that mattered.
"I can't change corporate policy overnight. Being the owner's only daughter made it complicated. They called you into personnel to make sure I didn't sexually harass you or some shit; Dad said you cleared me. No flags in my file. And my secretary told you the Board had voted to rescind our fraternization policy, too. I asked her. Four times. And as long as you never work directly under me, we can be together. But you still wouldn't take my calls, so I could't tell you."
Well, those certainly were really good news.
That means we can finally be together and open at work?
"You're not going to leave me again. Say it." Santana demanded, her lips slanted over mine again, hard. Punishing. "Say it." I shuddered with her sweet voice. Close, so close to me. "You still love me, Quinn. I know you do."
That was something so basic, perfect and true.
"Yes." I simply said, and she smiled.
"Then say it. Tell me you love me." My head bobbed up and down in a feverish, urgent nod.
"I love you Santana."
I wrapped my legs around her hips, she collapsed against me, her body too heavy, but she'd fucked me into a boneless puddle so it didn't matter. Instead of objecting, I threaded my fingers into her soft dark hair. I kissed her temple, and she smiled again.
"Mom's real estate firm handles sales for the units in this building. She says she can get us a deal on the condo and she'll do the closing, as our Christmas present. If we want it."
Her Mom was twenty miles away so my mind immediately leapfrogged to the living space I vaguely recalled Santana dragging me through on the way to the mattress.
Well that was just fantastic, it was here in New York; but if she would have preferred elsewhere, I would've followed her anywhere. Her family hadn't rejected our relationship yet, hadn't turned their collective backs on us. All those nights I wasted hoping she hadn't been feeding me a line when she'd promised she'd tell her family about me once she was sure it wouldn't cost me my job.
The weeks I'd agonized over what her parents would think of me: office slut sleeping my way to the top. But of course none of it was true, though one horrible scenario after another had played over and over in my head for so long, it'd paralyzed me. Why is it always so easy to believe the bad stuff? Easier to believe Santana had been using me and was covering her bases in the office. Easier to believe what we had was a figment of my desperately hopeful imagination and completely impossible in the real world of corporate policy and parental disapproval.
But maybe the bad stuff wasn't easier to believe, after all. With her weight pressing into me, her arms around me and her fingers skimming the sex sweat from my shoulder, I believed in her. More importantly, I could finally believe in us. She'd giftwrapped my most secret, fertile fantasy. Santana and I, living together and loving each other and presented it to me, mine for the taking. I could definitely have this every night.
And when I shivered in anticipation, Santana must've mistaken it for something else because she cursed under her breath.
"Alright, sorry if it was too much information, okay? But I didn't want to be away from you anymore. I ordered dinner for later. I brought candles, wine and flowers. I wanted to make up for the past couple of months that I was a jerk, soften you up before asking you to move in, but... fuck, I'm so whipped."
I chuckled.
"Yes you are, though you seduced me first, so don't complain too much." I reminded her, playfully tugging on her hair. Her mouth thinned.
"I seduced you?" She asked, a cocky grin playing in her lips.
Didn't she know?
"Well, more like you melted me, Santana." She snorted into my shoulder. "You melted me from the first time you strutted into my office, before I ever laid eyes on you, and you've melted me ever since. All you have to do is breathe, and that's it for me."
Delight stirred my heart. Charmed and seduced me all over again. I grinned.
"Really?" She shifted to stare at me with one dark eye.
"Really." I grinned, hoping she wouldn't notice the pleased blush I felt heating my cheeks. "I'll move in." Her lips, still swollen from my kisses, curved to a sinful bow.
"Fuck yeah! I'll call my parents to expect us for Sunday then."
"Um, okay?"
Isn't this too soon?
Okay no. It isn't. This is perfect. We're together now, Santana already knows all my family and they love her, so is time for me to know hers.
"We can tell Mom to start the paperwork then."
My nose wrinkled. The family thing still made me nervous. What if they thought I was a troublemaker and a slut? It didn't help that they were right on both counts. I'd certainly caused Santana nothing but trouble and I was so far gone for her. Even so, her terrifying mother had offered us a home and her father hadn't fired me, either.
I sighed.
"Okay," I repeated.
"Good." Her smile lit up her eyes like a beautiful Christmas tree.
"Now tell me?" I elbowed her playfully because why did I have to be the first to say it? When we both knew she'd owned me from the very first night?
"You are such a girl, Quinn." She laughed and kissed me. "I love you, too."