At first, Rose intends to go for the boobs.
Alisha just makes it too easy: sitting beside Rose on the bed, her back turned, still clad in only her black undergarments as she ties up her side ponytail. She's so wrapped up in the task she doesn't even notice Rose stirring on the mattress behind her; she's so vulnerable to a sneak attack. And as Rose recalls the way Alisha tormented her last night, how she tied Rose's wrists with silk scarves and teased her until she begged for release, Rose figures she has the right to a bit of payback.
It wouldn't be the first time Rose surprise-groped Alisha, and it isn't about to be the last.
So Rose swiftly launches her arms forward, her hands seeking Alisha's chest, but at the very last second, Alisha moves to stand, and Rose finds herself squeezing a midriff instead. To Rose's surprise, Alisha instantly collapses back onto the bed anyway—and when she squeals, her voice peaks with what Rose could almost swear is a bark of laughter.
They both freeze in place, Rose's hands still clutching the other's middle, silence hanging over them like a storm cloud.
"Rose," Alisha eventually growls, low and testy and warning. "Don't you dare."
Rose can't help it—she digs her fingers into Alisha's sides again, purposefully this time, and allows herself a predatory grin at the strangled screech-laugh that results.
Well, Rose did want payback. This works just as well.
Alisha tries to get away, to her credit, but Rose is a half-second faster, yanking her backwards and scrabbling her fingers over Alisha's stomach to prevent escape. Normally when they grapple, they're evenly matched, but with Alisha so incapacitated by giggles, Rose has little trouble rolling them both over so that Alisha is face down on the bed, pinned beneath her. Straddling Alisha's thighs, Rose cackles and dances her fingers over the bumps of her ribs, bending down to whisper throatily in Alisha's ear.
"Surrender."
Alisha barely manages a gasping "S-screw you!" through her own laughter, and Rose grins wider. Of course, she expected nothing less from Her Royal Stubbornness, and if Alisha is so insistent on keeping this going, well, that's just fine by Rose.
It wouldn't be any fun if she gave up so easily.
"Suit yourself." Rose snickers and, upon seeing how Alisha's bloomers have ridden down from her squirming, flutters her fingers over the exposed skin of her waist.
Jackpot. Alisha shrieks in outrage and suddenly starts bucking in a futile attempt to dislodge her tormentor, all the while cursing Rose out with what little breath she can get. Rose has to hand it to Alisha: she's a fighter to the end, and she hates to give in to Rose just as much as Rose hates to give in to her. Even now, as Alisha pounds her fists against the mattress and wildly flails her legs and attempts to roll over, she's probably seeking an opportunity to turn the tables.
But Rose isn't going to let her have it. She knows Alisha, from all their sparring and wrestling, knows that Alisha has a wicked grip and that if she manages to get onto her back, she'll stand a fighting chance. She'll be able to grab Rose's hands to stop her, or even launch a tickle counterattack of her own. But so long as Rose can keep Alisha flat on her stomach like this, there's nothing she can do, Rose has the advantage, and absolutely nothing is going to stop Rose from making Alisha submit (barring the scenario of Alisha's maids barging in to break it up, but seeing as they haven't already burst through the doors at their lady's frantic screams, they probably aren't going to at all).
It's when Alisha's violent thrashing dies down to weaker struggling and her already labored breathing turns to even shorter, even more desperate pants that Rose knows she's nearing her limit. Her touches lighten just a smidge, her fingers slow down to give Alisha some slack and let her breathe, but Rose doesn't stop.
"One last chance to give up, princess," she teases. "Or I can do this alllllll dayyyyy—"
"You win!" Alisha finally shrieks, voice choked and hoarse and begging. "I give I give I give, just stop!"
That's all Rose needed to hear.
Satisfied, Rose pulls back her hands, letting them rest harmlessly on either side of Alisha, who instantly goes limp beneath her. Sinking even further into the mattress, the breathless victim lolls her head to the side to gulp for air, and Rose takes the opportunity to admire her handiwork. Alisha's cheeks are flushed bright pink, her hair has slid free of her ponytail to form a disheveled heap around her head, her bloomers have ridden down so much Rose can see the crack of her ass. Rose smiles, her chest blooming with warmth.
Gods, her girlfriend is gorgeous when she's absolutely wrecked.
The spell is soon broken, though. Once Alisha has has her breath back, she groans, starting to squirm again. "Rose, get your fat ass off of me."
Rose quirks a brow. "Is that really something you should be saying in your position?" She pointedly hovers her hands over Alisha's ribcage, doesn't even make contact before her captive tenses up and jerks, frantic pleas and apologies and promises that she'll do anything Rose wants just no more spilling from her mouth.
Rose chuckles but takes mercy, finally sliding off of Alisha, who gasps in relief and rolls over. It takes the exhausted girl a full minute of staring up at the ceiling before she apparently gathers enough strength to crawl back into a sitting position, leaning against the headboard. Green eyes start scouring the bed, and after pulling aside a sheet, Alisha retrieves her fallen flower hairband.
"You'd best watch your back," Alisha hisses, glaring daggers at Rose as she ties her hair back up. "I will get you for that."
Even as a nervous shiver runs down Rose's spine, she smirks in anticipation. "I'll hold you to that."