Rose Hill, 1778
"Miss Quinn!" Rachel yelled, running down the stairs. "I've been looking for you! Weren't you supposed to be taking your classes right now?"
Quinn looked up with squinted eyes to find Rachel blocking the sun. Rachel swallowed hard, realizing Quinn had been working on the garden alone all morning. She hoped she hadn't been called, because she knew how angry Quinn would get when she wasn't answered. But Quinn doesn't yell or scold her. Quinn blinks, and goes back to working on her dry bushes.
"Do you need any help?" Rachel asked, bringing her hands together behind her back and taking a step closer.
"No," said Quinn.
Quinn hadn't punished her ever since the night they were together. She wasn't as mean as she used to be either. In fact, in several times, when no one was around, she would even try to be somewhat nice to Rachel - although not nearly as nice as one would expect after such an intimate act, even under the circumstances theirs had happened. But most of the time, Rachel just felt her more closed up. And it drove her nuts that she never knew what to expect - what version of Quinn would show up on the next morning.
"Do you think right now it's the best time to plant new seeds? I mean, it's almost winter…" Rachel knew she was pushing it. Quinn opened her mouth to say something, but swallowed air and closed her mouth and eyes for a moment. Rachel would give the world to know what crossed Quinn's mind in that fraction of a second.
"I've tried planting them every season. That's not the problem," Quinn replied in a low growl.
"Well, what's the problem then?" Rachel asked. Quinn looked up at her again, but her eyes weren't as bland as before. They carried the fire Rachel knew so well, and it made her lick her lips unconsciously. Quinn shook her head, and planted another seed onto the ground. Rachel wanted to grab her by the back of her head to catch her attention, and ask again until her question got answered. But George walked in to the garden, and the distraction made her remember her place.
"Quinn!" He shouted, getting his sister's attention and a smile. Something Rachel would never get. "Rachel," he acknowledged her presence with a nod. Another thing Rachel never got from anyone else. "Mother said you are to go to the city to have a final fitting of your birthday dress," he said, turning his attention back to Quinn. "Would you like me to take you?"
"Well, yes, I would love that!" Quinn cheered with a nod, getting up and patting down her dress. "Will you just give me a couple minutes to get clean and ready?"
"Of course! I'll see you by the front door in half an hour!" George winked, waving his hand as he left. For a second Rachel thought the wave was in her direction. She was to meet a master as kind as George.
"Get ready," said Quinn, leaving her tools on the ground for Rachel to pick up. "You're coming with me."
Rachel couldn't see Quinn's face. Quinn's couldn't see hers either. If she could, maybe Rachel would have hidden the huge smile that hang in there.
It drove Rachel nuts to never know what to expect from Quinn - but she was learning that sometimes being surprised wasn't so bad.
Basseterre, 1778
"Sleeping already," George chuckled, pointing his head towards Quinn, who had her head against the carriage's window. "Mama Minda always teased Quinn about her inability to stay awake inside a moving carriage. Has she told you that?"
Rachel shook her head. It's not like Quinn ever told her anything, anyway.
"I'm not sleeping yet, so you should watch out what you say, brother," said Quinn, not bothering to open her eyes.
"Do you remember how you used to pretend you were still asleep when we got home, only so that she would carry you inside?" George asked, leaning forward and propping his elbows onto his knees. Quinn knit her eyebrows together and shut her lips in a thin line. "I always thought it was amazing how her arms could be strong enough to carry us both, and still so soft. I always felt so safe in her arms."
"Quit it, George," Quinn groaned, opening her eyes with a frown. "I don't like talking about her."
"Oh, come on, Quinn. Why not?" He asked, but Quinn only opened her eyes to send him a glare that would make him wish he hadn't asked. Rachel was more than intrigued, but she knew better than to ask any questions - especially after Quinn's reaction. "You're the only one I can share those memories with, Quinn. It's the only way we can keep her alive."
"Well, she's dead. So if you don't mind, I will go back to my sleep now." Quinn closed her eyes again, but George hadn't had enough yet.
"She used to take care of us," he said, looking towards Rachel. "She treated us as if we were her own children. She couldn't read, but she picked up our books and made up stories to go with all the pictures so that we would fall asleep with something good in our minds. Even after I learned how to read, I pretended I didn't know it, just because her stories were always so much better. She was so wise."
Rachel's eyes beamed. It didn't take long for her to figure they were talking about a slave, and it warmed her heart to see George, the epitome of a white boy, talking so kindly about the woman. Quinn eventually opened her eyes too, and Rachel could almost swear she saw a vague smile in there somewhere. George went on.
"We would wake up earlier than mother - sometimes even before sun rise - just so that we could run to the kitchen house and have breakfast with her," said George. The smile that hang on his face made Rachel want to wrap her arms around him and keep him there forever. He was too good for the world he was raised on. "We still had to sit at the dining room with mother and father once they were awake, but I swear to you the food tasted much better when we ate with all the other children that used to spend the day at the kitchen house."
"I never ate porridge again after she…" Quinn trailed off. "I was frightened it wouldn't taste the same. No one could cook like she did." George nodded enthusiastically, and Quinn blushed - but went on. "Father always brought me the best china dolls from his trips, but my favorite one was the corncob doll she made for me. It drove mother crazy."
Rachel froze when she realized Quinn was looking in her direction. It hadn't crossed her mind that Quinn was opening up to her. But Quinn must have realized it at the same time Rachel did, because she soon shook her head and looked down. Closing up again.
"But please, George," Quinn murmured. "It hurts me to talk about this."
George grabbed her hand sympathetically and they drove the rest of the way in silence - except for the relentless thoughts in Rachel's head, that wandered all over with questions about who was that woman and what had happened to her. What could be so extremely sad as to make Quinn - the strongest person she knew - hurt just from thinking about it?
Rachel wanted to dive in to Quinn's head and learn everything that went through there. Curiosity consumed her. But for the time, she could settle for the few moments where Quinn and George would leave their distinctions behind and talk so casually to her.
"My beautiful miss Quinn!" An old black woman said, walking in to the room with her arms up. Quinn nodded in acknowledgment and smiled gently as the woman greeted her and George. "You are not to believe how beautiful your new gown looks!"
"I'm looking forward to know what you have been working on, Irene. I'm certain it will be as amazing as always," said George.
"Oh, let's not waste anymore time, then! This way my dear," said the woman, pulling Quinn by the hand towards a room in the back. "Ida will help you get dressed so that we can do the fitting."
"That won't be necessary!" Quinn said, a little too harshly. She cleared her throat and smiled a quiet apology. "I have brought my slave to help me get dressed."
Quinn knew she probably wouldn't have to slip out of her shifts to try on the gown, but still, she would rather not take any chances. It wouldn't be easy to explain to an ex-slave why she had so many marks across her back - even though they were nearly all healed.
"Oh, my! That's a fine slave you got for yourself, miss Quinn! Isn't she fine, Ida?" The older woman asked, and a girl about Quinn's age peaked her head out of the door with a huge smile and a wistful nod.
Quinn felt a tug in her stomach.
"I wouldn't be able to tell she was a slave if you hadn't said so, miss Quinn. What a fair complexion she has," said Ida.
Another tug.
"Rachel," Quinn commanded, jerking her head towards the room in the back and ignoring the comments from the other women. George giggled, and Quinn huffed, trying to understand what he could have possibly found funny.
In one thing Irene was right, though. The dress was simply beautiful. The light green corset wrapped Quinn's ribs like a hug, and the white ruffles on the hem of the sleeves made her arms feel like wings. She swirled in front of the mirror, only then catching Rachel's eyes.
Rachel had seen her naked, in her most vulnerable and intimate state, and still Quinn hadn't felt as self-conscious as when she felt Rachel's eyes on her at that moment. Rachel's eyes shined in a way Quinn wasn't sure she had seen before, and it made her shiver.
"Do you like it?" Quinn asked, before realizing she was most likely putting herself out there further than she ever intended to.
But before she could have an answer, Irene and Ida had stormed inside the room. Hands were all over her - but none of them were Rachel's. They felt foreign, even though she had been in that exact same room more times than she could count. She found herself wanting to wrap her arms around herself - but held herself back to let the women do their job.
They adjusted her gown in all the right places and made it fall even more perfectly around her shy curves. Once she forced herself to relax, she was so enchanted with her own figure she almost missed the expression of adoration in Rachel's face, as she watched the two black women working.
The tug in her stomach was even harder this time.
It was natural that Rachel would idolize Irene and Ida. The women had been slaves and bought their freedom with the money of their hard work. It wasn't frequent, but it was what every slave aimed for. Not everyone had the talent it took to be a highly skilled artisan though, and most of all, Irene and Ida had been lucky. Most masters weren't kind enough to sell a slave's freedom. Quinn knew she would never do the same.
And that's why Quinn didn't mind that Rachel looked up to Irene and Ida. What she simply hated was that something else was grabbing Rachel's attention, while she was wearing her birthday gown - the gown that was supposed to bring all the eyes from the ballroom in her direction. Everyone should be looking at her. But everyone could be looking at her, and she would still would be unsettled until she got on her the pair of eyes that brought her alive.
"I think we have everything we need," said Irene, setting a pin on the cushion wrapped around her wrist. "When you're ready, I will be waiting with George in my office so that we can arrange the payment."
Quinn wasn't exactly comfortable with all the efforts Ida was putting into starting a conversation with Rachel as they helped her out of her gown. She didn't want the woman putting the wrong ideas in Rachel's mind while she was away, and she had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach that was only confirmed when she finished the payment and went to grab Rachel as they were ready to leave.
Getting into the room in the back, Quinn found Rachel giggling with Ida and swaying in a gown that was without a doubt not hers. It wasn't Quinn's either. The gown was longer than Rachel's short legs, but the peach and golden mix shined against her skin just right. Quinn swallowed hard.
It wasn't like she had never seen Rachel in a gown before. She could still remember how speechless she was when she found Rachel on her way to the crossover party, but this - it was nothing like that. The gown Rachel wore carried a luxury she could never afford, and made Quinn want to rip all out of her body.
Everyone's eyes were supposed to be in her, not in Rachel. She was to be the star of the party, not Rachel. Rachel was merely a slave.
Then why she felt like she would never look as beautiful as Rachel did at that moment?
Quinn just couldn't take another tug in her stomach. She felt her blood boiling inside of her, and could swear she was about to explode. Rachel froze seeing her, which only drove her further.
Marching her way through the room, she slapped her hand hard across Rachel's face.
"Get out of this," Quinn growled. "Get out of this gown right now!"
"Oh my God!" Irene half-yelled walking in to the room behind Quinn. "Ida, dear, this is so inappropriate! I apologize, miss Quinn! She doesn't know what she's doing! I apologize!"
"Is everything alright in there?" George asked with a knock on the door.
"Everything is fine," Quinn shouted back, feeling the heat emerging from her face as she slammed the door open and stormed out of the room. "We are ready to leave."
Rose Hill, 1778
Rachel wasn't naive enough to believe Quinn was taking her to the city just to make her happy. Still, she took advantage of the opportunity to make peace with the so longing memories she had in that place. She had always heard her mother talking about the marvelous countryside life, but Rachel had always been a city girl. She was reassured by the constant noises on the streets and felt the presence of her mother in every corner of the streets.
Her mother. As she laid to sleep, not even the pouring rain outside was loud enough to make her stop hearing her mother's agonizing groans. It's the kind of thing that sticks to you, and rang in her ears for years. And to think it was all Quinn's fault, only made her angrier. It was almost as if Quinn was determined to end any source of happiness Rachel had in her life.
Except for one. She didn't know what it meant of her that one of her happiest memories was in the moment she was so close to the person she hated the most. She didn't know how to stop the battles inside her head, from wanting to rip Quinn's neck or wanting to suck on it hard enough to make her moan again.
Quinn's moans. Another sound that wouldn't leave her ears, and it felt almost sinful to have it share the place with her mother's worst moments.
Rachel hated Quinn with all heart. Still, when she dreamed of Quinn's lips so near her, it made her smile. And if she wasn't asleep, she would swear the place she dreamed Quinn had kissed her felt hotter than the fireplace placed on the other room.
There's something particular about the pouring rain at night after a hot sunny day in the Caribbean that always moves Quinn. The air isn't as thick, and the breezy wind cleared her head while bringing a melancholy and nostalgia for something she couldn't quite place. From the other room, she could hear the sound of a soft night breathing and wondered when exactly did she stop fearing Rachel would kill her in her sleep and started being comforted by Rachel's presence so close.
They didn't share a word during the ride back from Basseterre. George tried to start a conversation, but soon enough realized Quinn wasn't in the mood - although not understanding her reasons. Quinn would rather keep it that way. She knew George would defend Rachel, which would only drive her angrier. Rachel blinked and got everyone at her feet. She didn't have to speak a world and the whole world was infatuated by her.
Quinn didn't understand it. If anything, she found Rachel infuriating.
The memories of Rachel and Ida swaying through the room flooded her head, and she bit her lip remembering how carefree and relaxed Rachel seemed. A different version of the Rachel she was so used to. A version she would perhaps never have the pleasure to meet. The very same version Rachel showed to everyone else. Then why not Quinn?
Quinn had always thought of herself as someone confident, but even that was starting to shatter. Rachel was ruining her life, and there was no amount of punishment she could lay on her that would bring back the peace she once had. But even then, not once it crossed her mind to get rid of Rachel.
Rachel was ruining her life, and she found herself standing by the door watching Rachel asleep. Her chest rose with every breath, and a smile appeared on her lips. Quinn felt again the now so familiar tug in her stomach. Rachel's happiness bothered her, and she had no idea why. The thought of having Rachel dreaming and smiling made her feel betrayed. If she wouldn't get a smile from Rachel, no one else should. Not that she wanted a smile. She wanted respect. She wanted fear. And she wanted Rachel's arms around her, ripping her apart like they had before.
The thoughts were almost as contradicting as her feelings. Confusion flew all over the room, and Quinn couldn't make it stop. Perhaps that's why before she could come to her senses, she found herself kneeling by Rachel's thin mattress. It's not that she regretted the slapping Rachel that afternoon. But when she saw the faded mark of her fingernail on Rachel's cheek, she couldn't fight the urge to lean forward and drop a soft kiss on the spot.
And suddenly, everything warmed up inside her again. And this time, not even the pouring rain would be able to cool her down.
"Oh, Mama Minda was a blessing to all of us! She raised me, too!" Said Abbie, with her hands crossed on top of her heart.
Curiosity was killing Rachel. She made sure to wake before Quinn did, just so that she could run into the kitchen house and have the time to ask Abbie about the woman George and Quinn talked to affectionally about.
"Really?" Rachel knit her eyebrows together. "I thought she had only taken care of the master's kids."
"No, no! She raised every single one of the children slaves back in my day. She only came up to the mansion when Quinn was born, because miss Judy refused to take care of her," explained Abbie. "But even then, she would bring the small kids to the kitchen house and they would play with George and Quinn as if there wasn't one single difference between them."
"What happened to her?" Rachel asked, propping her elbows in the table and leaning forward in curiosity.
"There was an uprising down the quarters and she got killed," said Abbie, before leaning closer to Rachel and lowering her voice. "Or that's what people believe. I've heard rumors that miss Judy ordered her killed."
"Why would she do that?" Rachel asked in a high pitched tone, but Abbie covered her mouth with a hand.
"Why wouldn't she?" Abbie gave her the shoulders. "Everything went exactly as she wanted afterwards. Master sold all the kids slaves, and she was able to make Quinn turn out exactly like her. George went to study abroad, something she always wished but never could."
"That's… ruthless," Rachel murmured with a quivering lip.
"Well, that's miss Judy," Abbie sighed. "In the end I think she was just jealous of the relationship the kids developed with Mama Minda. She couldn't deal with the fact that George liked her best. She's a difficult person, but she's been through a lot. I wouldn't want to walk in her shoes for a day."
"So I've heard," said Rachel. She wasn't exactly sure what had happened in that farm before she arrived, but she knew that for a mother to deny her child like miss Judy had done with Quinn, something terrible must have happened. "Does miss Quinn know?"
"Oh, I don't think she does. She wouldn't have forgiven her. You have no idea how different she was before all of that happened!" Abbie shook her head with a faint smile in her face. "But then, again, it's only a rumor, Rachel. And you certainly don't need to get in deeper trouble by spreading it around."
"Cross my heart and hope to die!" Rachel played.
"To be honest, I'm very surprised she talked to you about that. Even though you said George pushed her, I never heard she mentioning Mama Minda since that day. I actually thought she had forgotten about her, because she was little when it happened." Abbie shrugged. "I guess that just proves once again what I've told you before, little Rachel."
"What?"
"In your own way, you have been earning a weird side of miss Quinn that no one has ever gotten to see," said Abbie. Rachel blushed, and she giggled. "Maybe the old Quinn is coming back. I sure hope she does!"
"Has George left?" Quinn asked, crossing her legs as she sat on a chair in the library.
"Yes, miss Quinn. He went off to see a patient and I was told he isn't to be expected to come back until tomorrow," answered Rachel. Quinn quirked an eyebrow.
"You sure are informed of what's going on around here," said Quinn. Rachel looked down and clasped her hands behind her back. Only then Quinn realized Rachel could have taken that as a compliment. Only then Quinn realized that the compliment might have been intentional. "Would you perhaps know at what time my guest is arriving?"
"She's supposed to be here anytime now, miss Quinn," said Rachel.
Quinn groaned and hid her face on her palms - only to be distracted by Rachel's giggle. She raised her head again, and Rachel took a step back. It was Quinn's turn to giggle. Rachel was lucky she wasn't in a bad mood that morning.
"You really do enjoy to see me suffering, don't you?" Quinn stood up, taking a step forward in Rachel's direction. Rachel didn't falter, and instead, cocked her head to the side with a small shrug as she bit down a smile. Quinn gasped at her recklessness, but she was saved by the bell when Brittany walked into the room with a loud slamming of the door. That was Brittany. Always loud. Quinn could already feel her head starting to hurt.
"Quinn!" Brittany exclaimed with small little jumps. Quinn gave her a fake smile that somehow was enough encouragement for the girl to come in her direction and tackle her in an unwanted hug. "Oh, how I've missed you!"
"I've missed you too, Brittany," said Quinn with a sigh. She would be damned if Brittany could ever sense her ironies.
They had been friends since Quinn could remember. Brittany was the friend her mother always wanted her to have - and maybe that's why Quinn never quite liked her. There was nothing particularly wrong with her, but she was just too much. Quinn didn't like socializing, and Brittany required too much of her attention. It would never work.
But Quinn couldn't miss the second Brittany noticed Rachel in the corner, and how her eyebrow rose in surprise. Still, she didn't acknowledge Quinn's slave. It was natural. Quinn had never acknowledged or greeted a slave either - that was something only George did, and everyone knew how odd George was. But still. Something unsettled Quinn. She didn't like when everyone's attention was turned to Rachel, but she certainly didn't like when people dismissed her either. Only she could do that. Only she could treat Rachel like that.
"So, what has happened in this farm since the last time I came over?" Brittany asked, but before Quinn could even take a breath to answer, she was interrupted. "Oh, Quinn, you won't believe this! Do you know Anthony? The younger brother from that farm all the way up in…"
And Quinn had tuned her out already. That was one of the thousand reasons why she hated socializing so much. She could never engage a conversation. Growing up alone, she had never learned how to. She didn't like gossiping about other people's life, but at the same time, she didn't feel like she had knowledge enough to engage in intelligent conversations such as the ones her brother shared with his friends.
She was stuck, and maybe that was the reason why she had been growing more and more fond of the small moments where she decided to let her guard down and talked to Rachel. Of course, she never forgot her place. But it didn't hurt to only sometimes have someone to whom she could talk to and know that she was being listened - even if only by obligation. It also felt nice to know that whenever she told anything for Rachel, it was always something new for her. It made Quinn feel smart.
What didn't feel nice, was the realization that Rachel was conceivably her only friend. The realization that as long as she had Rachel there, she was fine. She didn't need anyone else. And that in reality, she didn't mind that one bit.
"Quinn?" Her mother yelled, banging her hand on the table top as she walked in the dining room where Quinn ate alone. If George and her father weren't home, she already knew not to count with her mother's company. "Did I hear the rumors right? Did you just shove Brittany out? Again?"
"Mother, that's rather overstated," she replied with a huff, bringing a spoon full of soup to her mouth. She could almost see the smoke coming out of her mother's boiling head. "I simply told her that she was to leave, since I had an appointment with my dancing instructor."
"You don't have dance classes today, Quinn!" Judy shouted back with a stomp of her feet.
"Well, she doesn't know that, does she?" Quinn smirked, but it faded as soon as her mother marched her way closer.
"Quinn Fabray, you don't play with me today because God knows what I might do, now that your two little knights aren't here to save you!" Judy pushed Quinn's plate away. Quinn froze.
By instinct, she glanced to her side and found Rachel looking straight at her direction. With a simple movement of her head, she ordered Rachel out of the room. Suddenly she wasn't comfortable having Rachel as an audience as her mother scolded her once more - even if Rachel had seen it multiple times before.
"I honestly don't know what you were expecting me to do," Quinn replied with a roll of her eyes. "I already entertained her for the whole afternoon, isn't that enough for you?"
"This is not about me! This is about you!" Judy yelled louder with every phrase that left her mouth, and Quinn fought the urge to wince away. "As a member of this family you have social obligations, whether you like them or not! You are almost sixteen and you will soon be done with your schooling, what are you planning to do then?"
"You're well aware of my plans, mother. I'm gonna stay here, and I'm gonna run the farm. I'm really not up to having this conversation again, you have already tried to convince me this isn't what I should do, but for once in my life I'm sure of a decision and there's nothing you can do to change this."
"Alright, Quinn. That's fair," Judy replied with a nod, but Quinn frowned. She knew it wouldn't end this easily. Things were never easy with her mother. "But how exactly do you plan to do all that? Alone? You will need help from our contacts and you will have to deal with people - you can't just lock yourself inside your little castle and wait for things to fall on your lap."
"That's not what I'm gonna do," Quinn grumbled. Her mother wasn't saying anything new, but it hit a soft spot when she realized once again that she still had a lot to learn.
"I swear to God, Quinn, you are never gonna find a husband while you are secluded like this. I know Brittany is almost engaged already, and you? You don't even try." Judy shook her head with a disdain that Quinn was well used to. "I really hope you take advantage of your birthday ball, because that's my last attempt to help you. I'm tired of doing all the work and having not one ounce of your gratitude."
"Well, what if I don't want a husband?" Quinn shouted back, aware of how childish she would sound to the ears of her mother, but not knowing how else she could react. It was the truth, after all. She had been presented to several men from her father and brother's circles of friendship, but she hadn't found interest in any of them. She was fine on her own. Her mother shook her head with a scoff.
"You know Quinn, I just hope you die alone. Maybe then you'll learn how not to be such a ungrateful little wench."
When Quinn walked inside her bedroom and found Rachel making her bed, she sighed in relief. Rachel was all she needed to make the fight she just had go away. Rachel was there, and it was exactly what she needed.
After locking the door, Quinn ran in Rachel's direction - before she could change her mind. She grabbed Rachel by the hair and felt something fluttering inside her at the sound of Rachel's gasp in surprise. But before Rachel could say anything else, she crashed their lips together. Quinn pulled and sucked and licked Rachel's bottom lip, but Rachel stood there stiff.
Quinn frowned, and pulled Rachel's hair tighter attempting to get some kind of reaction - but again, Rachel didn't move. Quinn let go of her lips, and tried to find something in her eyes - but they were closed. So she resorted to what she knew how to do the best. To the way Rachel responded better - or worse, depending on the point of view.
Quinn slapped Rachel. She barely had the time to draw in a breath when Rachel slapped her back. Her mouth fell opened. If anything, this wasn't what she expected. Quinn took one step forward and thought of all the ways she could kill Rachel for that. But instead, she closed her eyes and waited. She didn't know what would come, but she still craved it.
And she knew it was all worth it the moment Rachel grabbed her by the shoulders and in a swift flip tossed her with her back on the bed. Quinn felt the air being kicked out of her lungs as Rachel slapped her again, crawling on top of her. Her lungs collapsed when Rachel's mouth met the skin on her neck, and with one firm bite, Quinn wasn't sure she would make out of it alive.
Her first moan escaped when Rachel flicked her tongue on Quinn's earlobe. By the time she nipped on it, Quinn had to bite down her lip to avoid a scream from coming out. She had forgotten it. She knew the first time they had slept together felt amazing, but she had absolutely forgotten how intense it felt. How her skin felt on fire all over, and how the feeling of Rachel's wet tongue alone drove her crazy.
She was the one to pull off the ribbons of her stays then. She didn't want to waste any time. Rachel's face when she noticed what Quinn was doing would have made her blush, if all her blood wasn't focusing on where Rachel's hands laid. Rachel flashed a smirk that on any other time would have earned her another slap on the face. But right then, it made Quinn melt further into the bed as her gown was slipped out of her.
Rachel's hand travelled down her body as if they knew it by heart. They pinched just the right places as if they owned it. And perhaps they did, because God knew there was no one else Quinn would allow to do the same things to her. Rachel's mouth caught her breast, and Quinn could see stars behind her eyelids before Rachel even touched her. Her hands flew instinctively to hold Rachel's head in place, but she regretted it immediately when Rachel let go of a nipple to look at Quinn's face.
Quinn licked her lip and tried to push Rachel's head back in place. Rachel scoffed and shook her head. Quinn swallowed dry. Rachel couldn't do that to her. She couldn't stop. And thank God she didn't. Rachel grabbed both of Quinn's hand and pinned them above her head. Quinn squirmed under Rachel's weight, but Rachel used her legs to stop her. There was nowhere she could go. She was laying there, naked and open, at the complete mercy of Rachel. And she could swear it was heaven.
Rachel grabbed Quinn's lips again, and Quinn felt her jaw quivering. Only then she realized how much she missed Rachel's taste, even if after only a few minutes. Rachel's tongue was harsh and impenitent, claiming Quinn's mouth as her own - but at the same time, the second it met Quinn's tongue, it felt like velveteen. When Rachel pulled apart and the cold hard air stroke Quinn's lips, she whimpered - but Rachel slapped her. It was unexpected, unreasonable and preposterous. And maybe that's why Quinn liked it so much.
"Don't move your hands," Rachel whispered just below her ear, letting go of Quinn's hand but keeping them in place above her. Quinn knew better than disobey.
She watched with half-lid eyes as Rachel roamed down her stomach, scraping her teeth not at all gently down her way. She watched as pink marks raised on her pale skin as Rachel went further down, and when she realized where Rachel was aiming to, her stomach dropped. She couldn't control how loud she inhaled air and fear took over her, making her grab the sheets above her head. Rachel seemed pleased, and dug her nails on Quinn's inner thighs as she nuzzled her nose just too close.
When Rachel's tongue finally met the place Quinn needed the most, her head fell back onto the mattress and she couldn't see anything else. Her mind was clear, just as she had wanted. There was just her, Rachel, and a feeling so huge that she wasn't sure she would be able to keep inside herself. She tried. She bit her lip until it drew blood. She tried harder. She closed her legs against Rachel's head with all her strength. She tried the best she could. But she exploded.
She could only hope no one had heard her loud scream. But her whole body shook with ecstasy and when she opened her eyes to find Rachel with the most mischievous smirk, she knew there was no hope for her. Rachel's fingers started working where her tongue had previously being, and Quinn tried to lift her weight to her elbows and shake her head. She wanted to tell Rachel that she was done.
But Rachel shoved her back down again, and kept going. Each stroke sent a shiver of pain up Quinn's spine. She was all too sensitive and it was all too much. She tried to scoot away, but Rachel held her back. Rachel had always been stronger. She tried closing her legs, she tried wincing but Rachel's finger moved faster and faster and she had no way out.
"Please," Quinn cried out, she didn't know exactly what for. Rachel giggled and shook her head, leaning forward to bite hard on Quinn's thigh.
Every rub hurt more. Each rub became torture. And suddenly, torture became the most unbearable pleasure - and Quinn exploded all over again, collapsing on to the bed. Her vision got darker and for a second she was sure she was going to faint. But then Rachel dropped one single kiss, just under her belly button, and it was enough to mess with Quinn's mind more than anything they had done before.
Quietness fell upon them. But it wasn't as awkward as Quinn expected it to be. In a matter of seconds, Rachel was by her side holding up her night gown. Quinn barely had to move for Rachel to slip in the clothes - not that Quinn would have been able to move if she had to. Rachel pulled the covers over Quinn and stopped by her side, as any other night. As if nothing had happened.
"Do you need anything else, miss Quinn?" Rachel asked.
Quinn frowned and slowly shook her head. It couldn't be that she was the only one who felt like that wasn't right. Not what they had done - that she was sure it wasn't right, but it wouldn't stop her. What felt unbelievably wrong was how casual Rachel could act about all of it. Almost as if she didn't feel the deep connection that Quinn felt building between them each moment their eyes crossed as Rachel stood between Quinn's leg. And perhaps one could still call it an act on impulse after everything that had happened, but Quinn felt sure when her hand stuck out to hold Rachel's arm.
Rachel looked back with a confused frown, and Quinn swallowed air. She couldn't say it - but there was no turning back either. As she scooted away to the middle of the bed, she pulled Rachel to lay down with her. When Rachel attempted to hesitate, Quinn gripped firmer on her arm and pulled her once again. And it was all it took. Rachel was still her slave, even after everything. She still was supposed to abide to her wishes. Maybe that would be a plausible explanation to give for herself when Quinn woke up the next morning. She was just reclaiming her place. Or that's what she tried to convince herself as her legs wrapped around Rachel's and her head laid just a little too close to Rachel's shoulders.
Quinn's breath evened out in a question of seconds. She was calm and relaxed in a way she couldn't recall ever being. Drifting to sleep was just a step away. She was sure Rachel thought she was asleep. If Rachel knew otherwise, she wouldn't be outlining Quinn's face with her fingers. She wouldn't be gently caressing the hickeys on her neck. And she wouldn't be tracing Quinn's lips. But Quinn stood still, pretending to be asleep and hoping Rachel would never stop. Because maybe that was it.
Maybe she really didn't need anyone else. Maybe she really didn't need friends. Maybe she really didn't need a husband. Maybe she just really needed Rachel.