Sister Mary Eunice was the first person Lana had met at Briarcliff, and soon became her dash of sunlight on a gloomy day. She was the first person who had shown her any kind of humanity after being locked away, even going so far as sneaking her fresh pens and cigarettes from time to time.
Her hands were surely sprinkled with glitter, because everything the nun touched seemed to shine and sparkle afterwards. She was sweet, timid too, her eyes big and blue and lined with fine gold lashes, full of wonder and innocence, gleaming even in the darkness of the Asylum. Her mouth was pure, untainted, and each word she spoke was so genuine, so kind.
But now Lana didn't know who the nun thought she was kidding, because Mary Eunice was someone else entirely, and try as she might to have kept it a secret, there was only so much acting could really hide. Her eyes glowed like a sunset in hell, and she was all red lips, smug smirks and swaying hips, the girl was almost offensively attractive.
And the brunette didn't have time to feed her curiosity or desires, not when she thought Dr. Thredson might be starting to believe her. Naturally, Mary didn't take well to the lack of attention, nor did she make it easy, she came creeping out from nowhere like the devil from the shadows.
The nun kissed her one day in the front yard, behind a tree, with the bark digging into her back and red and gold leaves around their feet, and that's when her Mary kick really began. It only took that one bruising kiss to get Lana addicted to her touch. There was a connection between them, and the reporter knew it was wrong and unhealthy but it was there. God knows she tried like hell to ignore it, to ignore her, but it was her she kept coming back to, always Mary.
She found the nun with her back pressed against the bleak wall of the bakery, a cigarette poised between her fingertips. She looked formidable like that, almost dangerous, Lana thought, with smoke falling from her bright red lips as she stared at the inmates.
She had her don't talk to me face on and the reporter knew she should stay away because she'd probably tear her to shreds with her tongue but she looked kind of lonely, and Lana was lonely too. So, being Lana Winters, and doing the only thing Lana Winters knew how to do, she took the risk and walked up to her.
At first Mary Eunice didn't look at her, her eyes turned skyward and her hand tapping out a rhythm against the wall. After a few moments she let out a small sigh and took another drag of her cigarette, finally making eye contact. With a cock of her brow and a twitch of her lips, she said, "What do you want, Mrs. Winters?"
"Harsh," Lana commented, joining her against the wall. "I'm tired of Dominique. Bored of sitting and staring at the wall. You know, the usual."
The nun shrugged, twiddling the cigarette between her fingers."Eventually."
"Eventually?" Lana echoed, brow raised in confusion. "What? Why 'eventually'?"
Mary rolled her eyes. "I've been watching you over there staring at me like a pitiful puppy for the past ten minutes. You've done it every time we've been in the same room together since last week. I was wondering when you were going to grow a spine and come around again." Her lips curved into a smirk and suddenly, Lana didn't feel so sure of herself, like coming to talk about the incident was a mistake. The nun had that effect on her, and she hated it.
"I didn't know if you wanted me to come over, seeing as you left so abruptly last week." Lana offered, eyes sliding over her face before coming to rest on the wall next to her.
"You would've come even if I didn't," Mary replied. "Don't give me that look, I know."
"Why did you really come over here?" She demanded, tilting her head back with a cat-like smile, letting the moonlight hit her face in white. She knew the answer of course, she just wanted Lana to say it out loud.
Lana sighed, folding her arms across her chest. "I want to know what hell that was last week."
This caused the corners of her mouth to quirk up. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Cut the shit, sister." Lana snapped, tired of dancing around their kiss like it hadn't happened. "You know exactly what I mean."
The blonde only shrugged, though the dangerous glint in her eyes gave her away, they always had.
"There's no way you could forget about when you attacked me with your mouth last week."
She was a breath away now, and Lana was well aware of the game she was playing with her. Lana pulled away from the blonde, tensing up. Her nearness affected her in more ways than one. It made her breath shallow, heart constrict, and her lust flare up significantly.
Mary was completely and utterly maddening, and the thing is – she was starting to think she liked it a lot.
And something about that smug ass little grin of Mary's told her that she knew.
"Oh, please, you didn't protest." Mary responded hotly. "In fact, you deepened the kiss. Clearly," she smirked triumphantly, "you didn't regard it as an attack at the time." She sounded so satisfied with herself. God, how Lana wanted to hate her guts.
"So I exaggerated a little," Lana told her, allowing herself a crooked smile as she remembered the way Mary's tongue invaded her mouth, or how she bit Lana's lip hard enough to draw blood.
"Well I'll be damned, I got a smile out of you, that's enough to satisfy my whole evening. Well mostly." Lana rolled her eyes despite her racing heart and the only answer she got was sultry wink before Mary stomped out her cigarette, looking like she was about to leave.
"I'm not done talking."
Mary clicked her tongue against her teeth. "This isn't the ideal place for what needs to be discussed." Mary whispered. More like, what I'm going to do to you, she thought, raising her brows at the reporter as she turned, a seductive grin on her face. "Coming, Lana?"
Mary lingered over her name like it was something special and the reporter definitely noticed. Her eyes widened a fraction, a shiver running down her spine, before she blew out a breath, debating on whether or not she should take off after the blonde.
Lana raised an eyebrow. "What if I said no?"
Mary turned and the brunette wanted nothing more than to wipe that knowing smirk off her face. "You might," Mary tilted her head, the corners of her lips quirking upwards. "But you won't," Her lips were at Lana's ear now, breath tickling her skin. "I know you won't."
"How can you be so sure?"
She pulled back and grinned wildly. "I know you too well, Lana. You'd never say no and mean it. Not with me."
The reporter wanted to slap her, hard, for everything she was saying, for making wetness pool between her legs, for making her breath hitch in her throat and her heartbeat speed up in her chest, for making her want her so desperately.
She wanted to pull Mary to her and kiss her hard enough to bruise.
The nun jerked her head in a way that said, Follow me, and then proceeded out the door. Moments later, Mary heard the reporter mutter something about feeling sick to the other staff members and coming down the hall after her.
Lana followed Mary to her own room and almost immediately, the nun's lips were on hers, hot and hungry and insistent. Lana kissed her back with equal fervor, whimpering at the heat of the blonde's mouth against hers, the slick slide of her tongue against her own.
The blonde couldn't even wait to get to the bed that would just barely hold both of them, her fingers dug into Lana's hips hard and shoved her against the wall, the brunette's head bouncing off of it with a grunt of pain. The nun didn't even pause, instead she continued her onslaught, her lips working furiously against Lana's.
Eventually, they pushed each other away, panting heavily and staring at the other. Mary let out a breathless laugh as she studied Lana's less than composed self, her eyes hooded and dark with lust, her hair even more messed up.
The nun's eyes were shining brightly, their color a startling gold. In this light, she looked almost animalistic, predatory, and Lana couldn't help herself as she pulled off the taller woman's coif and tossed it aside, sealing her fate as she threaded her fingers through blonde hair and crushing their mouths together.
There was nothing romantic about this whatsoever but she didn't think either of them were looking for romance, so she continued to kiss her, pleased that Mary let her take the lead, even if only for a second.
"Someone's eager," remarked Mary, once they finally let each other go again. Lana's back was still against the wall she had pushed her up against.
"Excuse me?" The reporter raised an eyebrow, letting her know that she was swimming into dangerous waters. "I'm eager?"
Mary grinned in a way Lana supposed would be charming if she wasn't contemplating hitting her. "All right, calm down, Lana. No need to get all worked up about it."
"You're an asshole," she muttered, shaking her head.
"Shut up," Mary growled, her hands already working their way down the back of the shorter woman's neck, along the gentle curve of her spine, until they roughly squeezed her ass, "and kiss me again."
This was primal. That was the only way the brunette could think to describe it.
Mary had one hand pressed into her hip, while the other followed the slope of her neck, past her collarbones, and slipped into her gown. Her fingers tweaking and pinching the reporter's nipple through the thin material of her bra, causing Lana to gasp against her mouth —it was rough, but a good rough, and she wanted more.
Mary's mouth moved to bite at her jaw, her neck, her shoulder, as the hand kneading her breast slid slowly down her stomach, tracing teasing patterns below her navel, before coming to rub her through her underwear.
Lana ground her hips down against the blonde's hand, urging her on, wanting to feel so much more of her touch, only for Mary to draw away, slamming her more firmly into the wall with her hips, eliciting a gasp from the reporter.
"I don't think I told you to move yet, did I?" She hissed, scraping her teeth along her jawline. And Lana thought the rough tone to the blonde's voice was probably going to make her come before she ever actually fucked her.
Mary's fingers moved at a torturous pace as she watched the reporter's face, grinning at the lust and anger she found there. The brunette swallowed and resisted the urge to try and subtly relieve the now prominent aching between her legs.
"Fuck you, Mary." Lana growled.
"No," She retorted, flicking her tongue over the brunette's pulse point, her fingers rubbing faster circles against her still-covered clit, the friction making Lana feel weak in the knees. "I know you'd like that, but you don't get to."
Lana's hand found the wall behind her, she wasn't quite sure how she was even standing upright at this point. The nun stilled for a moment and the reporter cursed herself, fearing she was going to pull away completely. Instead, the taller woman looked at her with a hunger that made Lana ache, desire raw and evident on her face. "I get to fuck you. You're going to come so hard you'll forget everything but my name."
Even though the blonde was in charge Lana felt a surge of power knowing how much she wanted her, how much she was enjoying this. "So are you just gonna talk about it?"
"No. Strip," Mary told her lowly, the tone in her voice brokering no room for argument, not that she would have. Her hands moved to the hem of her gown but the blonde's own hand curled tightly around her wrist before she could do anything. "Slowly," she commanded, before releasing her hold, and stepping back.
With a little smirk, Lana started make a show of removing her clothing— going at a sloth's pace. She could hear the low hum in Mary's throat as she watched her, licking her lips as she assessed the situation fully—and it was incredibly hot. "Do you think I have all night?" She asked, arching a brow at the brunette.
"Well I certainly hope so," Lana retorted smartly, and Mary was on her before she could even breathe, teeth nipping at her bottom lip, sharp and rough.
"Just do as you're told." Lana opened her mouth to give a witty retort but was silenced by Mary's tongue delving into her mouth. "Without the sass." The brunette rolled her eyes, but nevertheless continued to undress herself.
"That's better," She murmured, resuming her former stance, her golden gaze hungry as Lana bared skin to her, moving to pull her gown off completely, realizing then that the buzzing in her skin had given way to her hands shaking —but not from nerves or worry, from pure, unadulterated need.
Once she was down to nothing but her standard bra and underwear, Mary moved toward her again, licking her lips as her gaze swept over the brunette's body. "I'll take it from here," she smirked, catching her arm and pulling their bodies together, fingers moving to curl around the clasp of her bra.
Her lips trailed along Lana's collarbone, her tongue and teeth teasing the skin as her hand moved to cup a bra-clad breast, the other trailing along her side, moving over every bare inch of skin she could find.
Lana inhaled sharply, her back arching into the blonde's touch. She brushed her thumb over the brunette's pert nipple, chuckling at the way the reporter practically whimpered her name.
Lana's fingers carded through her wavy hair, her eyes fluttering shut as the nun teasingly dragged her tongue over her neglected nipple as her fingers tugged sharply at the other. The attention to her breasts went straight between her legs.
"Mary…" Lana groaned, head knocking against the wall when the nun's short fingernails raked down her ribs. She could feel the taller woman smirking against her skin, her thumbs pressing bruises into her hipbones, but somehow that dull pain was causing her much more pleasure than discomfort.
Lana nearly came undone, moaning out the nun's name as her fingers slipped between her thighs, sliding over her slick folds. Her head fell forward, against the nun's shoulder and she gasped raggedly. "Fuck, oh Mary."
"Such a wet, wanton thing," The nun taunted darkly, chucking as Lana bit her shoulder to stifle another moan. Mary pressed her thumb against her center, hissing out lowly—she was wet enough for her that she could feel it soaking through the fabric. Mary began to stroke her and the older woman clenched her eyes shut, a whimpery moan passing her lips. "Tell me, Lana, is it blondes in general that do this to you, get you this wet?"
"Maybe," she hissed out through gritted teeth as Mary's thumb pressed more firmly against her clit. Her lips parted and another cry tore from her throat.
"Liar," The nun breathed, hot against her ear, teeth nipping at the shell as the reporter started bucking against her fingers. "It's only me, isn't it?" When she didn't answer her, she stilled her fingers against her. "Say it."
Lana whined out when she stopped and she should have been ashamed or embarrassed but she wasn't. Mary laughed, low and without humor, the sound was dark and sinister and it sent a fresh jolt of arousal through the older woman. Her fingers were still pressed against her. "Do you want me to stop, Lana?" She questioned, lips just close enough to the skin of her neck that she could feel her breath, sending shivers down her spine. "Tell me it's only me." She demanded hotly, punctuating her words with a sharp flick of her fingers that made the reporter's pulse jump.
"Yes," she finally managed to rasp out, not sure how she was even forming words.
"Yes, what?"
"It's … you … just you. I only want you," she choked out, resisting the urge to move her hips to try and make the blonde touch her again.
"Don't close your eyes," She said sharply then, and the brunette snapped her eyes open to meet a deep golden gaze, her lips parting as Mary's fingers slipped past her underwear and into her slick heat. "I want you watch me when I make you come."
She couldn't have looked away if she'd wanted to, she was completely entranced. The nun's gaze never wavered as she worked her fingers over her folds, before dipping one, then another inside the reporter, curling them just so. "Fuck yourself," she told Lana lowly, never looking away from her eyes. "Fuck yourself on my fingers, the way you screw yourself when I'm not around, when you wish I was."
The way Mary was talking to Lana would likely get anyone else slapped, any other time, but right now, it was exactly what she wanted. She rocked herself down against her fingers, gasping and crying out, all but keening for her.
"Is that really the best you can do?" Mary was taunting her again, and God she loved it. She moved her hips faster then, harder, feeling that glorious first release creeping up on her, that heat building in her stomach.
"That's better," The blonde soothed, her thumb pressing against her clit, making the reporter almost dizzy with need as she rolled her hips against her fingers. "Do you want to come, Lana … do you think I should let you?" She breathed out, lips against hers once more, her fingers still deep inside her.
She thought she'd go crazy if Mary stopped now, if she didn't finish what she'd started here, of course she wanted all of it. "Mary." Lana panted out as she broke from the kiss that nearly suffocated her.
"I … yes," she hissed out, but she didn't know what she was agreeing to—honestly, she didn't imagine it mattered at this point.
"Yes, what, Lana?" she questioned. "Do you want me to let you come, or do you want more?" And she could hear it then, Mary asking, had she had enough or did she still want to play?
She met Mary's gaze, and didn't even have the chance to respond before the nun jerked her fingers from her, and moved them to band of her underwear, giving them a sharp tug. The material gave in a matter of seconds, tearing off of her as if they'd been nothing. It made the Lana shudder.
With a smug grin, Mary pushed her towards the mattress, pulling her down so she was sitting astride her face.
Lana let out a high pitched moan, fingers gripping onto the metal bars of the bed as Mary's tongue delved between her folds. The nun's hands came to curl around her hips, her hold rough and possessive, keeping her steady so that her tongue could tease, circle and flick her clit, before plunging into her.
The brunette was crying out, fingers tugging at the blonde's hair as she rode her mouth, her body shuddering as the younger woman lapped and explored every inch of her.
It was almost too much. The build-up of their evening, the deep thrusts of her tongue threatening to destroy what little ounce of self control she still had.
And Mary knew how close she was to teetering over the edge. She could feel the reporter's muscles fluttering around her tongue already, the way her thighs trembled around her head, how her moans turned to gibberish.
The blonde gazed up at her, disheveled hair falling into her eyes as she picked up the pace, her rhythm allowing for quick, deep thrusts. Lana hitched forwards, digging her nails into Mary's scalp as if to hold on for dear life as she put more power into the snap of her hips. She felt sweet, sweet pressure everywhere, especially building low in her stomach.
The nun gave one more sharp thrust before she pulled out of Lana's center abruptly and lapped upwards, her tongue finding her swollen clit and pressing down flat against it. That was all it took.
Her head snapped back and she wailed the nun's name, nearly sobbing at the blissful release. Her walls contracted around Mary's tongue even as the blonde continued her rhythm, fucking her through her orgasm.
For a moment she was suspended in time, silent and frozen as the moonlight bathed over her skin, and Mary watched from below, panting, licking her lips, slack-jawed. Then the reporter climbed off the nun, and rolled over onto her back, having only a moment to try and catch her breath before the blonde was stealing it again.
And then she was gone. Mary had pulled away so quickly Lana wondered if she teleported to the end of the bed.
"Mary?" Lana sat up, blinking blearily as the blonde stood and took a moment to fix her hair before she picked up her coif, making her way to the door. A surge of panic rose through the brunette, prompting her to shift across the mattress with her hand outstretched. "Wait! You don't always have to flee."
The nun turned, her eyes taking on a feral glint in the pale light. The reporter had expected them to be mocking and jeering. They weren't. They were still that deep golden color she insisted she hated, but it actually might've been her favorite color ever. After blue, of course. Mary stared at her for a long moment and pressed her lips together like she was fighting herself not to say a thing. And she didn't. She left, letting the heavy door slam behind her.
Lana knew that the blonde wasn't one to stick around and cuddle, or show any emotion really, so if she came anywhere close to softening, to sharing anything she tried to cover up, she would leave.
But she also knew that it wasn't over, whatever this was. If she were given the opportunity, Mary would be back to pounce.
And Lana was sure she would let her.