A/N: Sorry for no update yesterday, I had a huge migraine. Also, yes, Brynn is based off of Brennan from Bones. :) I think in an alternate universe where she and Santana went to school together would just, be hilarious. So here it is – though she isn't in this chapter, you will see her again.
Chapter 15
I smiled down at Quinn, leisurely, running my hands along the insides of her soft thighs. The little sounds coming from her were desperate. I leaned forward to place a soft kiss against the inside of her knee, my hand creeping forward to rub gently at her crotch.
"Santana," Quinn said, breathy, and I smiled, sneaking my fingers underneath the seam of her panties, pushing against the flood of heat.
"Santana, wake up," Quinn murmured, and I felt her fingers circle my wrist. She gave it a little shake, and abruptly, I opened my eyes.
My body was pressed against hers from behind, my face rubbing against her bare shoulder, my hand snaked over her hip and beneath her underwear. Immediately, my face flushed, and I tensed, drawing my hand out from over her. I flipped over onto my back and let out a groan, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes and rubbing furiously.
"Damn it," I swore into the darkness.
Quinn chuckled, though it was slurred and drowsy from sleep. I felt her toss on the bed and roll over, snuggling her body against mine. It made all the nerves in me hum and sing with want.
"What were you dreaming about?" Quinn murmured against my ear, and I had to repress a shudder.
I scowled into the blackness, and then in a fit of temper just rolled over, giving my back to Quinn.
"We can't keep sleeping in bed together," I told her angrily. "Until this thing is over."
Quinn spooned against me, rubbing her face against the back of my neck. "It's adorable," She told me, running her fingers through my hair. I shook my head.
See, this situation was getting desperate. I became sexually active at fourteen. And ever since then, I had never gone more than a week, or maybe two, without a good roll. It just didn't happen. We were honing in on the fourth week of school and there was nobody around to take care of me – except for Quinn, who was damnably flirtatious and sexy, but ultimately left me feeling unfulfilled. This bet thing was driving me crazy. I didn't have a backup, like Puck, to call on. Or even any other loser from the football team that I'd occasionally used. And Brittany.. just thinking about her was like picking at an old wound; it hurt, but I barely noticed it anymore, because I was so used to it.
I was honestly starting to think that the sexual anorexia was getting to me. Things that I had never considered sexy before, suddenly were – the way Quinn brushed her teeth or the way she put on eyeliner. I caught myself staring at her lips during algebra, while she ate, while she talked. I couldn't get too close to her or my body responded in irrational ways.
I could tell Quinn was drifting back to sleep beside me, and I decided to try to do the same. But I was restless and annoyed, now. Annoyance is pretty much my pat response to everything. I was trying, not for the first time, to figure out a way to solve this little problem so I could go back to being regular, bad ass Santana, and not this quivering pile of nerves that got turned on by a smile or a laugh from a very self-assured blonde.
Right as I was beginning to drift off, it hit me: I had to win this stupid bet. It's about the only way I could maintain my dignity around Quinn, considering we'd be spending the duration of the school year right on top of one another (and part of me hoped that it was literally). It meant I was going to have to turn on the seduction by about a thousand, and give in to letting her touch me, first – but it was a sacrifice I was willing to make. I smiled sleepily into the dark room, and shifted back against Quinn's warm body, abruptly comfortable with the contact. I almost felt sorry for Quinn. She wouldn't know what to do with herself.
Xxxx
The next day was Saturday, so we were going to spend it shopping in town and maybe hit a movie. It was the second weekend in a row we hadn't gone home to Lima, and our friends were all bugging us to come. But Quinn had a test to study for and I didn't feel like getting caught up in the hysteria that always gripped Lima in some way.
I worried, briefly, if flirting with a girl would be the same as flirting with a boy.. boys were so pathetic and easy. I scowled a little bit at that thought, because, well, when Quinn wasn't even trying she turned me on, so did that make me more pathetic than a boy? I quashed the thought ruthlessly, staring resolutely out the window of Quinn's bug on the drive into town. My left hand reached out and rested, gently, on her knee. She turned to glance at me, but I didn't make eye contact, so she turned back to the road.
I began to rub gently against her knee, which was covered by a loose-fitting skirt that sort reminded me of hippies. She had a long sleeved, loose blouse-y type top on and her hair was pulled back into a short pony tail. She looked fresh and pretty, and reminded me of a gypsy.
I was wearing snug jeans and a tight halter top, and wore my hair in a long pony tail that curled down my back. I had thought about amping up the sexual appeal and plastering on a ton of makeup, but then decided against it. Quinn had already told me she thought I was pretty without it on.. and she wasn't a boy by any means. I wondered, idly, if I bothered her as much as she bothered me. I doubted it. She always seemed so self-possessed and in control. It was one of the maddening things about her. I wanted to watch her lose control and go absolutely crazy.
Well, I was going to take care of that. We were going to have sex tonight, and Quinn was going to lose this bet. I was determined.
As we hopped out of the car, now parked in front of Lima's only strip mall, I watched Quinn and tried to form a plan of attack. This whole arrangement was based on the premise of flirtation and seduction, which would drive the other person to want to give in. Of course, now that I thought about it, she had designed it, knowing I was most likely going to lose. I scowled a bit at the thought, trailing Quinn inside a little novelty shop that sold weird knick-knacks, like picture frames, candle holders, and wall art. It smelled weird and dusty and kinda like incense.
It made my stomach tie in knots to think about the implication of this bet, now that I realized she had probably put some thought into it rather than just suggesting it, spur of the moment. Because it alluded to the fact that Quinn knew I wouldn't be able to resist her flirting with me – and she was so sure she could resist me. Why was that? I eyed her critically, flipping over an elephant carved entirely out of rosewood. It had tiny gold bands on its tusks. Did Quinn just assume she knew me well enough to know that I have almost no patience for foreplay? Or was it that she knew she wasn't as attracted to me, as I was to her?
That thought kept playing in my head, over and over again, until I was almost shaking. It made me feel insecure and small. I placed the elephant back down, moving towards a rack that held wispy, gaudy scarves. I ran my fingers through a few idly. It was hard to think about wanting Quinn more than she wanted me, but I felt like it must be true. I wasn't used to that – I knew with every single guy I'd ever slept with, it was the polar opposite: he was dying for me, and I could barely tolerate the feel of his hands on me. And Brittany and I had been like a force of nature, coming at each other with equal parts frenzy and need. It never occurred to me to think which of the two of us was more wrapped up in the other. Sometimes I had the uncomfortable feeling that Brittany wanted a lot more, actually.. and not that I didn't want Brittany, but the 'more' she was craving for was just something I couldn't provide.
Now, with Quinn, I felt the insane anxiety of not being good enough, or not hot enough, or whatever. It tied me up in knots and made me slightly nauseous. It was awful. I hated this feeling. I had, in fact, spent most of my life trying to make absolutely sure I never felt like I wasn't good enough for someone, or that I was at their mercy. I realized that this bet did just that. It was evil and I needed to end it.
I strode up behind Quinn, determined, now to put her as off-guard as possible. I was tired of being the only one hot and bothered all the time. I smiled, leaning over her to see what she was holding, and she jolted a little bit, surprised to find me right behind her. I turned my face to look at hers, and I was aware of the way her eyes darted to my lips and then back to my eyes before she replaced the picture frame she was holding. I placed my hands against both of her hips, running my palms along her body, then snugged them around her to give her a brief hug.
"You're in a good mood," Quinn said, a little awkwardly, pulling herself out of my embrace and moving on towards a display of bracelets.
I furrowed my brow at her turned back. This was going to be harder than I thought. I came up beside her, standing close, and began to toy with the same bracelet she was picking at.
Quinn quirked her face into a small smile, arching an eyebrow at me. I hated that look she gave me – it was so arrogant. I wanted to push her up against the wall and start kissing her. I had to fight the urge, because, well, the whole point of this was to get her to kiss me. Or something.
"Are you going to buy anything?" Quinn asked. I shrugged.
"Maybe. I haven't sent Britt anything in a while. She's beginning to wonder if we've forgotten about her." It was true. Britt's text messages had been pretty morose lately, and our phone conversations had been short. I was sad about it, but I didn't know what to do about it.
Quinn pursed her lips speculatively, fiddling with a bracelet that was composed of sea-green stones cut into squares. "What about this?"
I trailed my hand down her arm, fingertips brushing lightly against her skin, before I rested one along the smooth stone. "Hmm. It's pretty. She'd probably like it."
Quinn was staring at me quizzically, before she blinked and then turned, still holding the bracelet. "Okay. Well, I'll buy this for her, you pick something else out."
I smiled smugly at her back.
I was sitting down on a booth in front of some changing rooms, flipping through a magazine, waiting for Quinn to come out and show off some of her jeans. I had decided this was the perfect opportunity to augment her wardrobe, and she reluctantly agreed. I had piled a stack of jeans and blouses so high she was going to have to make two trips, since she'd met the limit of how many garments one could try on it. I was okay with this. I was also resolutely determined to go back to the dorm room and start throwing away a lot of the stuff Quinn wore that was particularly horrible. It filled me with a sort of delicious excitement to think about it.
"You're not going to look like a Quaker anymore, Q," I said idly, since we were the only two in the area.
"I don't know, Santana," Quinn said speculatively. "Some of these shirts you picked are kind of skanky."
I rolled my eyes. "Quinn, seriously, live a little. Most likely these are going to be the best years of your life, body-wise, so you might as well take full advantage."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Quinn asked, scathingly.
I smirked. "Just, you love cheesecake, Blondie. It's going to catch up with you eventually."
"Coach Sylvester ruined you," Quinn muttered.
"Let me see the new and improved Quinn Fabray," I said, setting down the magazine. There was some rustling around inside the dressing room, before she cracked the door open and peered out. Finally she nudged it open completely.
It wasn't as if Quinn looked totally different or unmentionably sexy; she just looked normal. I wondered if this is why she chose to dress like she did, all the time.. because it was either look just like the average teenage girl, a slut, or a nun. I frowned. Of course she would pick door number three; early conditioning by her deacon daddy assured that.
"Well, it looks nice, Q."
Quinn raised her brows, sweeping her gaze down herself. She didn't seem pleased with my compliment. I flashed her a deviant grin and then stood up, approaching her slowly. "Let me help you pick what to try on next."
Quinn's gaze snapped to mine warily, and then out over the store, noting the other shoppers were busy doing other things. I smiled, then slid in beside her, not waiting for her response.
"Santana," Quinn said warningly, clicking the door shut. I smiled at her, sitting down on the tiny bench built into the cubicle.
"I'll be good." I said, with absolutely no intention of doing so.
Quinn scowled at me before she began stripping off the clothes. I waited until she had replaced the blouse and jeans back on their respective hangers before I stood up and moved behind her, pressing a warm kiss against the nape of her neck. Quinn gasped a bit, then turned around quickly, her eyes wild.
"Shh." I said, a grin curving my lips. I began kissing along the length of her collarbone, smiling into her skin at the way her breath was hitching in her throat.
I decided that the key to this was not to touch her, because if I did, I'd get distracted. So I held my hands behind my back and clasped my own fingers, even though they were itching and humming to run over her bare, smooth skin.
It was working. Quinn was shifting uneasily, and I had her cornered against the smooth wall of the dressing room and myself. Her arms were hanging limply by her side, before she finally lifted them to tangle one in my hair, and the other resting along my hip. I had to bite back a triumphant smile. I shifted, then angled myself forward, pressing my body against hers, before I finally lifted my face and pressed my mouth against hers.
It was gratifying the way Quinn responded, all teeth and tongue and rabid hunger. It turned me on in a new way, to realize I had this effect on her after all – that maybe she was just as crazy for this as I was. I kept my hands tightly clenched, the only contact between us the pressure of my lips against hers and the restless shifting of her body against mine. She was running one of her hands along my back, underneath my shirt, the other gripping my hair tightly.
It happened so quickly I didn't expect it, but she suddenly flipped us, causing my stomach to jerk and drop with eagerness. Now I was pressed against the wall, and Quinn was kissing me furiously, our hot, humid breaths filling up the tiny space. I felt like I was drowning on her. My hands were squeezed in tight fists, the nails digging into my palms. Quinn tore herself away from my lips, then angled down to press hot, moist kisses along my neck. I closed my eyes and groaned.
Her spare hand was inching upwards, sneaking underneath the hard wire of my bra, to tease the sensitive flesh there. My abdomen tightened, sending rivulets of heat up and down my whole body. I was dying from the urge to throw her on the floor and run my hands all over her body. It was testing everything in me for me to stay still and let her work her hands and mouth over me.
It was a heady feeling, to be dominated in this way, giving in to Quinn's desire to touch me and kiss me wherever she wanted. At first, my whole being rebelled against it – I wanted to do this to her, desperately – but I kept reminding myself that this meant I was going to win. And then, after that, I'd be able to do whatever I wanted to Quinn, whenever I wanted.
Finally, when her hand started to trace the length of my jeans and even began to dip beneath it, I clasped her wrist and pulled on it gently. Quinn lifted her head, meeting my eyes in question, and the look on her face almost undid me. It was full of passion and desire, her eyes swamped with need. It made my whole body quiver.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," I murmured, smiling prettily at her. Her eyes narrowed, as if she was swimming out of a fog of arousal, trying to make sense of what I said. That gave me a delicious thrill, seeing an emotion that I so often felt, mirrored on her. It was exulting.
I could tell Quinn wasn't used to this, because she kept shifting uncertainly, rubbing her body against mine. She cupped my face with her free hand and ran her thumb along the line of my jaw. I smiled, turning my face to kiss her hand gently.
"You okay there, Quinnie?" I wasn't able to repress the smirk evident in my tone. She frowned at me, then took a step back.
"It's not so nice when it's you." I told her, teasingly. Quinn scowled, then started pulling on her skirt and blouse. I walked over to her and ran my hand in a soothing circle along the small of her back. She straightened up and gave me a narrow look.
"Say something," I bit my lip to stop from grinning at her. She shoved a pile of jeans and shirts into my arms, and picked up the rest, opening the door of the dressing room wordlessly.
I tried to feel a little bad about it, but I didn't. Teasing Quinn was fun. It was an emotion akin to revenge, since she always got one up on me and left me feeling flustered and embarrassed, like a boy caught with a boner or something.
I trailed after her, up to the checkout, where she selected a few items to buy. She studiously refused to look at me, and her face was pinched and flushed.
On the way out, I linked my arm through her elbow, holding her bags for her, matching her pace. She kept her gaze diverted elsewhere and tried to ignore me. I gave her a little squeeze and broke away from her to open her car door for her. I smiled innocently at her furrowed brow, and then closed the door after she sat down. Rounding the car, I opened my own door and sat down, shifting to put the bags of clothes into the backseat.
"What movie d'ya wanna watch, Tink?" I said casually, flipping down the visor mirror to check my makeup. I ran a finger over my smudged lip gloss, evening it out a bit, then flipped it back up.
Quinn was staring at me. I got the eerie feeling that she was maybe seeing me for the first time. I smiled gently at her, because I knew she was confused or a little baffled. That's all right. I understood the feeling.
"What about Life As We Know It?" I said, because she hadn't said anything, just started up the car and began driving towards the local theater. "It's got Katherine Heigl in it, and Josh Duhamel."
Quinn glanced at me. "It's about a baby." She left the sentence hanging, and I immediately kicked myself. Of course Quinn wouldn't want to see that. I frowned.
"Okay. What kinda movie do you want to see?"
She tilted her head, thinking about it. "Case 39?"
I huffed out a heavy breath. "You know I hate scary movies."
The smile lit her face immediately. "Sounds perfect."
I sighed, relenting. There wasn't much else playing, anyway. When we arrived at the theater, twilight was edging in on the day, turning everything purple and soft. The wind picked up, turning the previously balmy day chilly. It was early October, and everything would be covered in snow soon. I regretted not making it back to Lima this weekend. I figured once the snow started, Quinn wouldn't want to make the drive.
I was also regretting my scant clothing, just walking from the car to the theater. Quinn came up beside me and gave me a jacket. I smiled gratefully at her, and linked my arm through hers again as we waited in line to buy the tickets.
I stared at the cardboard cutout which advertised Case 39, feeling a lump of panic rise. "This is probably going to end up being stupid like the Orphan." I told her, trying to sound less afraid than I really was. It was kinda starting to creep me out that Quinn was into all this dark stuff, like graveyards, human bones, and scary movies.
"I'll hold your hand if you get scared," Quinn said quietly, a big smirk plastered on her face. I scowled at her, aware that she was teasing me.
Quinn bought two giant sodas and a huge tub of popcorn, over my constant barrage of comments about her ending up looking like a house. Who knew that underneath that sparkly, pixie-girl façade lived a person with the appetite of a teenage boy?
We sat in the quiet theater, nestled around dozens of other couples, everyone murmuring softly to each other and scrolling through their cell phones before the movie started. I wrapped Quinn's jacket around me like a blanket, and rested my feet on the seat in front of me, hunkering down. Quinn was sitting with her ankles crossed and was munching determinedly at the popcorn.
I noticed she left off after the movie started, placing the huge barrel in the seat next to her. I decided that if I spent the whole movie watching her, rather than the film, I'd be okay. I hated to admit it but I really didn't like scary movies. It was a perk of being Brittany's best friend – she never wanted to watch them, either.
Quinn leaned over to me. "Stop staring at me, freak," She whispered, with the hint of a smile on her lips, and she threaded her fingers through mine beneath the cover of the hoodie.
I squeezed her hand and turned to the movie, watching it warily.
She chuckled every time I jumped. "I hate you!" I told her vehemently after one scene had me muffling a scream against her shoulder. She just smiled, lifting up the armrest that separated us, and allowed me to burrow into her, hiding my face away from the scary parts.
"You're such a pussy." Quinn whispered with my face pressed against her. I lifted my hand above the cover of her hoodie and gave her the finger.
Less than two hours later, the movie ended, and I unfolded myself shakily. I had been on pins and needles the whole time, my heart hammering and the copper taste of panic sitting behind my tongue. I needed air. Horror movies really got to me – they made me feel like I had to piss and shit at the same time, and sometimes cry.
"It's cute, how you're scared of them," Quinn said soothingly, running her palm up and down my bare arm as we walked out of the theater. I just scowled at her, yanking her jacket on. It was full on dark outside now, and it was bound to be colder than it was when we came in.
"I told you that I hate scary movies. We should have seen the one with the baby in it," I said, with feeling. Quinn just angled her head towards me and smiled.
Back in the car, my nerves were finally starting to settle, though my muscles were sore from being tense for so long. Quinn reached over and patted my knee gently.
"Let's just get back to Atherton before some scary demon girl comes after us." I was only slightly joking. Now that it was nighttime, I was doubly afraid and thinking about the movie.
"You're joking," Quinn said, grinning, as she merged onto the highway.
I scowled. "No! Scary movies really freak me out! I'm going to have nightmares now."
Quinn just smiled at that. I leaned forward and cranked her radio on to fill in the silence. I started playing on my phone to distract myself from the dark, lonely highway.
I was never so glad to see the warm lights of Atherton ahead of us, or so glad to be parking in the brightly lit lot. I really wanted to be upstairs, in our room, underneath the blankets and talking about other things. It wasn't very late; barely ten. But I wanted to go to sleep so it would be day again.
Once we were in our room, I started to undress, ignoring Quinn's little smirks that she kept throwing my way. I wished that we had a TV so that we could put on some happy movie. It made me miss Brittany and our Disney movie sleep overs. Once I was in pajamas with my hair brushed out, I climbed underneath my blankets and glared at Quinn, watching her as she did the same.
She took more time than I did, partially because she was so careful to fold all her dirty clothes and neatly put back things like hair ties, brushes, and makeup remover towelettes. Not so much me. I just laid them wherever. Quinn still bitched about it – well, she wouldn't be Quinn if she didn't – but I was less afraid of her going all Carrie on me about it than I was in the beginning.
Finally, when she was down to a tank top and underwear, she turned to me. Quinn was one of those girls who got all sweaty and hot while sleeping, even if it was below zero outside, so she wore basically nothing to bed. Most of the time I found this ridiculously hot, especially the nights we slept together. But right now my mind wasn't thinking lewd thoughts – odd, I know – because I was so focused on making sure that the window was closed tightly, and the drapes were drawn. She saw me staring at it and then smiled, repressing a laugh. She leaned over my desk to adjust the curtain, making sure that no crack of glass was peeking through.
"Santana, you're so cute," She said, settling in bed beside me. I scowled, scooting over, preferring to be locked between her and the wall, that way if anything spooky decided to find us, she'd be the first to go.
"Stop calling me that, Q," I said warningly. Quinn reached up and clicked off the lamp, then snuggled into the blankets and pillows.
"Why? You are." Quinn's voice whispered in the darkness.
I poked her once in the ribs. "No, I'm not. Cute is definitely not a word used to describe Santana Lopez."
"Well, I think so," Quinn said, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me into her. I didn't resist. I liked having her close to me, the physical reassurance of her body in the darkness. It made me feel safe, even though that was a silly emotion.
Quinn was running her hand up and down my arm, from shoulder to wrist, lightly. It was soothing. It made me feel like I might be able to fall asleep without having night terrors.
She propped her head up on her fist and looked down at me, and in the gloom I could make out her face. She was smiling a little bit. I didn't know exactly what she could see, because it was so dark.
She slowly lowered her head towards me, and something about the way she did it had my heart knocking in my chest. She brushed her lips lightly against mine. My heart beat faster, and all I could hear was the rush of blood in my ears.
She slowly, deliberately ran her tongue along my lower lip, using her teeth to gently nibble there, before she finally swallowed my mouth with hers. It was another one of those achingly slow kisses that turned my body into liquid fire, starting somewhere around my navel and radiating outwards. My pulse was beating thickly in my neck and I felt like I was suffocating, but in a delicious way, a way that made me feel like I was swimming through warm molasses and I would never reach the surface.
I was filled with the scent and taste of her, the toothpaste from her recently brushed teeth and the smell of her perfume and shampoo, but also something entirely exotic, something ultimately Quinn. I forced myself to keep my hands by my sides, which wasn't hard, because my body felt liquid and heavy, swamped with desire and need, but utterly unable to react beyond the fervent kissing.
Quinn slowly edged away from my mouth, now running her hand gently along my torso beneath my shirt, rubbing her fingertips into my ribs and along the valley of my stomach, tracing around my belly button. I knew I was wet even though we had only been kissing. My skin felt like it was on fire, and everywhere she touched quivered and jumped. I had to close my eyes because I felt like I was going to float away. Quinn lowered her mouth to press against my neck, just below my ear, and I bit my lip on a moan, shifting beneath her.
Quinn was running her mouth over my neck now, pressing harder against me, using her fingers to brush against my breast and then venture upwards, over the exposed nipple. She rolled it beneath her fingertips, causing me to lurch and arch beneath her, my breath exploding in ragged gasps. There was a persistent tugging down the center of my body, ending at the junction between my legs, which was making me move restlessly. I wanted more contact and more pressure.
Quinn shifted suddenly, lifting her leg over my body and resting herself directly on my hips. My quick intake of breath had her smiling in the darkness. She used her hands to bunch up my shirt around my neck, then lowered herself to press warm, firm kisses along my sides and my ribs, finally lapping out along the underside of my breasts. She tasted along the dip between them, sucking gently, avoiding the nipples though they were hard and aching. I groaned, grinding myself into her, tangling my fingers into the sheets beneath me. I felt her breath against one nipple and I had to fight the urge to grab her head and slam it against it. It was driving me insane, these light, breathy kisses.
Finally, as if taking pity on me, she licked her tongue over one, and then the other. I rocked beneath her, moaning. I felt her fingers squeeze against my sides, trying to control my body movements, as her mouth sucked and nibbled.
I was losing control. One hand darted out to drag at Quinn's tight tank top, ripping it over her head, while the other immediately flashed up and started running along the smooth skin of her back, her chest, and her stomach. I was dying to flip us over and take her. It was too much, the bet be damned.
Quinn's breathing hitched up a notch with the sudden contact, and she shifted, allowing me to rid her of her top. But before she settled back down she caught both of my hands in hers, and raised them above my head, pinning them there.
"Be still," She murmured into my ear, and I groaned, turning my head and biting my lip. Oh, god, you're killing me, Quinn.
"Fuck," the word came out with an explosion of breath as Quinn slid her naked torso against mine, her body radiating heat. I trembled, thighs clenching wildly, stomach quivering. The feel of Quinn's breasts brushing against mine was probably one of the most erotic things I'd ever experienced. It sent little zaps of pleasure darting all over my body.
Quinn began kissing along my collarbone, lapping her tongue along the hollow there, before she dipped down and pressed hot, wet kisses along my chest, and finally my stomach. I was shifting beneath her, begging for contact against my center, fingers digging into my own pillow.
She skirted her hand along my abdomen, and then pressed her fingers against the seam of my pajama bottoms, sneaking beneath them. The breath caught in my throat as she began exploring there, running her fingers along the fabric of my underwear, rubbing the pad of her thumb along my mound. I was soaking wet and bucking beneath her, out of my mind with lust.
Quinn paused, lifting her face to rake her gaze over mine, and I closed my eyes tightly. It felt strange to be lying like this beneath her – I had always imagined it would be the other way around, and I'd be staring down at her.
Slowly, she slipped her hand beneath the elastic of my panties, and I could feel her watching my face. I pressed my hips upwards against her, encouraging her. She slowly ran her fingers against the flood of warmth that met her, slipping between my lips and touching gently among the folds.
I was panting now, desperate. I shifted suddenly, sliding out from underneath her, and using my legs, trapped her beneath me. She fell with a little oomph against the mattress. She somehow managed to keep her hand in my pants that whole time, and now, with me above her, she had a better angle. I leaned over her with my hands planted on either side of her shoulders, rocking into her fingers, encouraging her to continue.
She smiled into my shoulder, using her free hand to yank down my pants and underwear so that they tangled at my knees. I lifted up, allowing her to yank them down over my calves and off of me. I resettled on top of her, and she shifted, managing to slide the meat of her palm against my clit. I bucked, grunting, and then ground against her. Quinn was light and gentle with her touches, and I could feel her watching my face, though it was dark and my hair was cascading around us. I kept my lip clamped between my teeth, fighting back every moan. I was breathing hard and ragged, my center clenching spasmodically, my clit throbbing.
Finally, after what seemed like years, Quinn inserted a finger into me. I had to fight the urge to ram myself down on top of her. Breathing shallowly, I leaned down, resting my forehead against her shoulder. "Oh, god, Quinn," I murmured, shaking.
She began dragging the finger in and out, slowly, and I began rocking in time with her, grateful for the friction. "Use two fingers," I whispered, because she was slowly winding me up and I felt like I was dying from the anticipation of it.
Quinn smiled, shifting a bit so that she could press a hot kiss against my neck. She slid a finger in at the same time she bit down on my pulse, causing me to gasp. She began to press them in and out, and finally started curling her fingers once they were inside.
My hips jerked at the sudden flood of pleasure, and the movement caused me to rub my clit against her palm. I felt myself tighten against her, and shifting, I began rocking in earnest, rubbing myself against her hand and riding her fingers.
Quinn's free hand snaked between us and cupped a breast, squeezing it, playing with the nipple. I was still arched over her, my breath exploding against her neck, muffling little sounds against her. I wound my hands into the bed sheets, moving faster, feeling myself teetering on the edge.
Quinn gave one last, final shove, curling her fingers and pressing against me, and I spasmed, my whole body shaking against her, seizing up, before I shuddered and ground myself against her. When it was over, my arms and legs felt weak, my skin sticky with sweat. I slowly lowered myself on top of her, gulping in breaths, with my head resting against her chest.
I could hear her heartbeat. It was hammering. My face was red and I felt weird, completely relaxed but utterly exposed all at once. I was aware of the fact that I was ass naked. My whole body hummed and vibrated.
Quinn lifted the hand that wasn't trapped beneath us and smoothed my hair down, and then reflexively brought it over my back, squeezing me to her. I shifted, then slid beside her, allowing her to do.. well, whatever she was going to do, with her wet fingers.
Quinn shifted and turned towards me, threading her arms around my body, and I snuggled into her, nestling my face against the crook of her shoulder.
"Are you okay?" She whispered.
I nodded into her, making a little humming noise.
"That was.. different." Quinn said, and I slowly opened my eyes against her.
"Yeah? Different how?" I asked, a little guarded. I never forgot for a second that Quinn hadn't had sex with a girl, and probably had only had sex with Puckerman a few times. It reminded me a little of how I felt after I first started having sex.. insecure and anxious, worried that I did everything right.
"It was good. It felt nice." Quinn said quickly, as if she was afraid she'd said the wrong thing.
I smiled, chuckling a bit. "I'm glad." I didn't have a lot else to say. My mind was pleasantly blank.
"It was not at all how I thought it'd be." Quinn continued, hesitantly.
"Mhm?" I encouraged her to go on, even though my breathing was shallow and I felt like I was going to drift off at any moment.
"Yeah, I somehow thought.. I don't know. That it'd be harder or something." She sounded confused.
I peeked an eye open, forcing myself to wake up a bit. "Why?"
"Uh, I don't know. Everyone says making a girl cum is hard." Quinn practically stuttered over the word cum and it was so adorable. I grinned.
"Not really, not if you know what you're doing." I shrugged languidly. "But, you must just have a natural talent." I laughed at her when she tensed up.
"Well, I think there's no excuse," Quinn muttered, a little indignant. "I mean, if I can do it, how come men can't?" She sounded genuinely perturbed by this thought.
"I'm sure there are some men, somewhere, who are capable of bringing women to orgasm," I told her, suppressing a yawn. "But let's face it, they have a natural disadvantage. They're all stupid."
Quinn giggled a little bit. "This is true."
I shifted, aiming my face towards her. "I'm sleepy right now, princess, but don't worry. I'm more than ready to introduce you into the world of coitus. Maybe tomorrow."
Quinn froze a little bit, shifting uncomfortably. "Yeah, let's not plan it, okay? Let's just let it happen." She seemed extremely uncomfortable, and I couldn't figure out why. I nodded, snugging my arms around her, pulling her into a hug.
"I want a cheeseburger," I murmured.
Quinn gave me a gentle squeeze. "I'll buy you one tomorrow."
"Oh, hey!" I said suddenly, before I forgot. "That bet was way easier to win than I'd thought it'd be." I aimed a little kiss at her chin. "Why did you let me go on so long thinking I was really going to have to work for this?"
I couldn't see Quinn's smirk, but I could hear it in her words. "Like I've said before, Santana, I like to watch you squirm."