We Sing Love Songs So Sincere
The head cheerleader purred in content at the tongue lapping lazily at her hot core, cooling and soothing the fire that seemed to constantly rage inside her at Santana's touch, her stare. Quinn did her best to keep still but she couldn't stop herself from moving her hips, grinding against Santana's mouth that just felt too fucking good to be real.
Santana hadn't spoken another word, not since calling Quinn "my captain" and submitting to the blonde and instead had gone straight to playing with her clit like there was nothing more she wanted to do. Her hands remain hooked loosely around the blonde's creamy thighs; her long fingers grazing lightly, almost casually, over pale skin.
It was all that Quinn could do to not smother Santana completely.
The ache that Quinn felt was overwhelming. There was a tightness that coiled in her abdomen and her chest was filled with something she couldn't really describe. But even with her eyes closed, she could feel them burn and Quinn knew that there was a different kind of release that was waiting, waiting so patiently, for its cue.
Her fingers in Santana's hair, so soft and tender, were now pulling and tugging as she tried to hold on for just a bit longer, delaying the inevitable when she'd let go and fall apart.
Her eyes opened and she peered down to find deep brown eyes staring intently up at her. There was no hiding the salty tears that blurred her focus but Santana never faltered in her task. A whimper escaped her lips when Santana's tongue entered, curling and flicking upwards, gathering as much of Quinn that she could. The head cheerleader watched avidly as dark eyelashes fluttered close and her breath hitched at the moan vibrating through her body, the hands tightening around her.
"Santana," she called in a husky whisper that then turned into another, a much softer whimper when the hands on her hips kept her from moving, kept her still and the tongue inside her sped up its pace.
Her body arched up and her hands, her fingers went into her own blonde hair. Quinn sighed at the nails scraping over her head, moaning softly as they moved downwards over her chest. Her hips jerked in reaction to her hand fully cupping her breast, while the other continued its journey back down to tangle in Santana's dark locks.
As her thumb brushed her nipple, Quinn was filled with the desire to feel Santana's luscious full lips wrapped around it again, to feel the very same tongue that was curling so expertly inside her to swipe over it, just once more.
Quinn wasn't sure just how she looked to Santana right now; bucking so wild and desperate just for a single touch of relief on her aching flesh. All she knew was that every inch of her skin was hot and slick with sweat, that every artery, every vein that pulsed through her was on fire.
And all she heard was the heavy breathing that passed through her lips, the rushing sound of the bed creaking under the weight of them, the explicitly obscene slurping noises that Santana just had to be exaggerating. But she couldn't muster up the strength to be embarrassed at the thought that she could be that wet.
Her legs were trembling from anticipation, from having been in the same position for much longer than she should. The shaking began to spread through her body and she could feel them in her arms, her hands. Her strength was wavering and god, she just really wanted to comenow.
Quinn licked her lips before making a poor attempt to call the brunette's name. It took a few more tries before finally, a firm "Santana," was heard in the empty space of the room and brown eyes snapped open at the tone.
The exchanging gazes were electric and Quinn swallowed thickly as the brunette's stare tore right through her.