Chapter Text
Oh.
Shane blinked at Ilya, who seemed to be fishing through the pile of clothes for her underwear. She chewed her lip, hoping her disappointment wasn’t showing on her face. Ilya glanced up, though it didn’t look like she’d found what she’d been looking for on the floor. Simply the sight of her, naked, hair sticking up in all directions, was enough to shock Shane’s heart into beating a little faster.
“Can I help you?” Ilya asked, batting her eyelashes at her.
Shane frowned, conflicted about how to articulate herself. The polite thing to say would be “No thanks, goodnight”, though the last thing Shane wanted was for this night to be over. She crossed her arms, suddenly feeling very exposed. She swallowed.
“Uh, no tha- “
“You are so cute.” Ilya said suddenly, and Shane blinked at her, confused. “Like kicked puppy.”
She approached the bed again, and Shane wanted to roll her eyes and avoid her gaze until she left: yes, she desperately wanted Ilya to just leave so she would be able to think about anything other than what it felt like to kiss her, be inside her, fuck. She could still feel her own spit drying on her fingers.
Shane did try, very hard: Ilya was right there, beautiful and waiting for her to respond (only God knew what for), and Shane lasted about thirty seconds before she gave in and looked at her. Ilya’s lips were full and wet with saliva.
“Lie down.” Ilya whispered, touching Shane’s shoulder to gently push her back onto the bed. Shane couldn’t bring herself to refuse her order.
“Hm,” Ilya mused, “You think I am asshole.”
“You are an asshole.” Shane said, but there was no real bite in her voice.
Ilya frowned, gaze trained on Shane’s lips. “I would not leave you like that.”
Shane’s heart skipped a beat. “No?”
“No.” Ilya said, and took Shane’s chin to force her to look up at her. “Let me show you how to do this.”
Shane barely had any time to even process her words before Ilya was crawling back onto the bed and Shane was hurriedly shuffling back to make space for her. She sighed as Ilya caught her mouth in another bruising kiss, her eyes fluttering shut. Ilya seemed bolder somehow, and her movements were fluid and practiced. Her effortless strength was surprising to Shane, considering the state she’d been in 5 minutes prior.
Without parting from her mouth, Ilya’s hand wandered down the smooth pane of Shane’s stomach, making Shane’s skin tingle with excitement. She gasped involuntarily when Ilya first made contact with her clit, and she reached down to grab at her wrist in a kind of knee-jerk reaction to the sensation.
Ilya pulled her away, lips puffy and red, a silent question in her icy eyes. The sight, paired with the remaining pressure of Ilya’s fingers on her, wrung a desperate, broken sound from her throat that Shane initially didn’t recognise as herself. She saw Ilya relax, a soft laugh leaving her mouth.
“Aw, already so wet for me?” Ilya smiled, before quickly leaning in to kiss her again to smother Shane’s predictable “fuck off”. The buzz of joy evoked solely from the warmth of Ilya’s lips against her own was almost enough to distract her when Ilya’s fingers began moving.
“F-fuck Ilya..” Shane choked out. The familiar, frantic energy was already beginning to build, blurring her thoughts together until all she wanted was more, faster, rougher.
As if reading her mind, Ilya began rubbing her clit more quickly, a coy smile splitting her face as she saw the way it made Shane melt. Shane’s heart was beating so fast, and yet she was so relaxed that she felt like she could just close her eyes and she would fall asleep. Every blink felt like watching a sloppily-edited, low budget film: choppy cuts from a flash of Ilya’s sharp canines to a sudden, bleary zoom-in on the gold cross that adorned Ilya’s neck.
“You touch yourself, yes?” Ilya said it so casually, so composed, as if she weren’t taking Shane apart with just two fingers.
Shane choked out a gasp, trying to stay composed, but her thoughts were muddled and sluggish, like walking underwater. Already she felt soft and dumb, made honest by pleasure. “Yeah, of course, I- well, um….”
“What?”
Shane felt her cheeks flush for the millionth time, wishing she hadn’t said anything. “I have.. a thing”
“A what?” Ilya seemed genuinely interested, which made it worse.
“A… “ Shane bit her lip, and Ilya smirked, before playfully slowing down her movements. Successfully frustrated, Shane spat it out. “A vibrator.”
Ilya stared at her, hand frozen, without an ounce of shock, or disgust, or even any kind of real recognition. Her gaze drifted off, eyebrows drawn as she seemed to be thinking quite intently. Shane hoped it wasn’t because she was imagining what they could do with it, because Shane’s vibrator was, very regrettably, not here: it was still back in her childhood bedroom, wrapped in 2 pairs of socks and hidden in the air vent due to Shane’s severe fear of her parents finding it. She’d woken up in a cold sweat multiple times throughout this trip, simply from the idea of her mother finding it on one of her manic cleaning sprees and asking her about it.
Ilya made a sudden sound of understanding, before grinning. “Ah, so you need machine to help you come, Hollander?”
“No! I mean I haven’t …”
“Haven’t what?”
“Haven’t come!” Shane admitted bashfully. “Before.”
“… I see.”
Ilya moved her hand away, ignoring Shane’s look of protest, and shifted so her chin was resting on Shane’s abdomen. She looked up at Shane with those sharp sapphire eyes, her long doll-like lashes a contrast to her muscular build and cropped hair. Her skin glowed like warm honey in the dim light, and up close, Shane could see a slight imperfection to her nose, as if it had been broken and not set properly. It somehow looked breathtaking on Ilya, especially when she pressed a kiss to Shane’s skin without breaking eye contact.
“Let us hope I am better than vibrating machine, yes?” Ilya mused, before effortlessly manoeuvring Shane’s legs over her shoulders and ducking her head down. Shane’s mouth had been open to respond, but whatever words she’d had ready were swallowed when Ilya licked an eager stripe across her pussy. She knew she was wet - she’d been wet since the moment Ilya stepped through the door - but feeling the lubricated glide of Ilya’s tongue on her skin was better than anything she could’ve imagined.
A broken whimper tore its way from her lips as Ilya playfully sucked at her clit, her hands reaching up to firmly hold Shane’s legs in place. Shane could feel the dampness of Ilya's right hand pressing into her thigh, her nails digging into Shane’s skin possessively. The pain sent a spark of pleasure down Shane’s spine, which Ilya was quick to lap up, and the sudden stimulation to her entrance made Shane cry out and grip the bedsheets.
“So loud.” Ilya’s voice sent vibrations up Shane’s pussy, making her shiver with pleasure. Her tongue moved back to work on her clit, slow yet firm, and the constant dull pressure was driving Shane crazy. Her breaths were coming in sharp pants now, involuntary, and Shane groaned, covering her flushed face with her hands as she leant back on the headboard.
Ilya pulled away, huffing out a breath. “Hollander, why are you hiding?”
Shane reluctantly moved her hands. “I don’t know, it’s embarrassing!”
“Well, is too bad.” Ilya pouted, tilting her head. “I wanted to see your face when I make you come.”
Shane’s jaw dropped at her bluntness, but Ilya just sighed, shaking her head. “Hm, looks like you prefer your machine.”
She moved to leave, but Shane quickly grabbed her bare shoulder, her brow furrowed. Ilya smirked, and Shane realised she’d played right into her trap.
“Or not?” Ilya mused, a hint of mirth in her sharp gaze.
“....No.” Shane gritted out.
“You are sure?”
“Yes.”
Ilya smiled, leaning closer. Her voice dropped to a sultry whisper. “Then tell me. Tell me how bad you want me.”
Shane took a sharp intake of breath at the feeling of Ilya’s tits deliberately brushing against her own chest. Her warmth bled into Shane’s skin, sending a shiver down her spine.
“I want … you.” Shane met her eyes, but it was clear Ilya wasn’t satisfied with this answer. “Your mouth. Please …”
“Hm, not specific.” Ilya murmured, her breath tickling Shane’s neck. “Where you want my mouth?”
“On my … “ Shane swallowed, fighting the urge to look away. “Please, Ilya, I- I need you inside me.”
Shane could’ve sworn she saw Ilya pupils dilate when she said this, so wide that only a thin ring of icy blue remained. Slowly, obediently, Ilya moved back to her previous position, easily manhandling Shane’s legs over her shoulders once more. Shane couldn't help but whimper at the feeling of her legs being spread, her entire body exposed like a live wire for Ilya to do as she pleased.
“Fuck, Jesus Christ-” Shane choked out, her head falling back as Ilya’s tongue began working on her clit again. The movements paused for a second.
“My name is Ilya.” She monotoned, before deliberately sucking at Shane’s clit in a way that made her see stars. The pounding thuds of her heartbeat drowned out the desperate noises she was probably making, and Shane found that she didn’t even have the capacity to care anymore. Her attention had been sharpened to the sensation of Ilya’s mouth on her clit - hot, like a furnace - and it was making her skin buzz with feeling. Ilya hummed, and Shane felt her hand pressing on her inner thigh, firm in a subtly possessive way that made Shane’s knees weak. She thought it was just to give Ilya better access to her, but a moment later, she felt Ilya’s touch trailing up her inner thigh.
Shane made a choked noise as Ilya dragged her tongue down to her pussy. She was licking up her entrance with a desperate, almost frantic energy in every flicker of her tongue, as if she were a woman starved. Ilya was making small sounds of pleasure, which Shane could feel thrumming in Ilya’s tongue. There was something in the way she gripped Shane’s thigh and jutted her chin against Shane’s clit to get a better angle, like she was savouring the taste of her. Her fingers were teasing at her entrance, gently rubbing in time the rhythm of her tongue.
“I-Ilya, please, please.” Shane gripped Ilya’s hair with shaking hands. “Need you so bad, I.. please…”
Ilya’s tongue stopped for a second, and Shane heard her sharp intake of break.
“God, ебать, Shane.” She whispered, her voice tight.
And suddenly Shane was overcome with sensation. Ilya’s fingers were inside her now, finally, pumping quickly as she dragged her tongue back to suck at her clit. Ilya was so warm, so alive, and Shane was too gone to do anything but feel it. While earlier had been good, Ilya’s new faster pace had Shane’s eyes rolling back, choking gasps of pleasure escaping her throat. It was so good, and so different to how it was by herself; Ilya seemed to have an endless stamina that matched every twitch of Shane’s hips. That familiar heat was building inside her again, thrumming and unsatiated, like Ilya was carefully turning up the dial of an electrical current. Shane could feel it tearing at the seams, ready to split, sounds threatening to pour out of her like she was a pot left on the stove for too long.
“Ilya- !”
It felt like an electric shock: Shane was suddenly gripped by a paralysing wave of pleasure that danced across her skin like a lightning bolt. Her vision went white and while she knew her nails were digging crescent moons into her palms through the sheets, she couldn’t feel the pain. Blood was roaring in her ears, bleary and unsteady, like the moments after a sudden fall on the ice.
Ilya held her through it, her free hand keeping Shane’s thigh in place on her shoulder. Through the blur of heat, Shane could still feel her tongue working on her clit. A broken whimper cut through the room, through the cacophony in Shane’s head, and it took her a second to realise the sound had come from herself. She felt her eyes flutter closed, her body slowly relaxing into the mattress. Sensing the shift, Ilya carefully pulled away, removing her fingers, and collapsed next to Shane on the bed.
Seconds or hours passed, Shane couldn’t have said, before Ilya finally spoke.
“Your hair.”
Shane was still dizzy from the force of her orgasm, but managed to force out a “Hm?”.
“Is nice. Like this.” Ilya held a brown strand between her fingers to examine the subtle waves that formed after it’d dried. “Is, how you say… curly.”
Shane made a sound of agreement. Her skin was still tingling, and her eyelids were suddenly very heavy.
“Why you make it straight?” Ilya asked, gently tracing the end of the strand with her thumb.
Shane blinked slowly, taking a moment to process the question. “Uh, I don’t know, it … um, looks… better.”
Ilya frowned. “Is lie, much better like this. Cuter.”
Shane didn’t have the energy to fight the hazy smile spreading across her face. “Shut up.”
Ilya raised an eyebrow, before suddenly jumping up to straddle Shane’s hips. “What, you cannot take compliment? You are cute, Hollander.”
“I..” Shane gasped softly when Ilya leaned in closer to kiss the spot below Shane’s ear.
Suddenly her voice, breath hot and hushed, in her ear: “Round two?”