Work Text:
Santana stumbled into the hotel room behind Quinn, causing the blonde to crash into the wall. Of course Santana laughed without apology. Of course Quinn found the quickest way to shut her up, kissing her almost brutally. Santana’s snicker turned into a low moan as she responded with equal force, both falling into a choreography unnervingly similar to their high school slap fights. When Santana gathered blonde hair and pulled hard, in revenge for Quinn ordering her to tighten up her own pony all those years ago, the Latina smirked at the irony before latching onto Quinn’s neck. The blonde could feel the smugness radiating from the other girl but couldn’t bring herself to protest when Santana’s lips felt so good, her teeth scratching just right. The brunette shoved off the other girl’s sparkly jacket and pulled down the straps of her dress to expose more skin. Quinn let herself revel in the feeling of the other girl marking her, until the Latina ruined the moment by opening her big mouth.
“Who’s in charge now, Fabray?” Santana gloated in her ear before nipping at her earlobe and sliding her knee between Quinn’s legs. That snapped the blonde out of it.
“Not you,” Quinn said far more haughtily than should have been possible given the situation. To prove her point, the blonde grabbed at the Latina’s ass, pushing the dress out of the way to dig her nails into flesh. The darker girl gasped and reflexively arched her back. Quinn used the distraction to mark Santana’s own neck before quickly moving down toward her exposed cleavage. Santana instinctually pressed closer to Quinn, giving her better access while simultaneously pressing her thigh higher into the junction of Quinn’s legs. The blonde’s dress rode up and both girls groaned at the slick heat soaking through Quinn’s underwear.
“Fuck Quinn, already?” “Shut up,” the blonde growled. The former cheerleader bit her lip and looked away, showing a hint of insecurity for the first time that night. A night absolutely full of blatantly hitting on her friend.
Wanting Quinn to stay in the moment, the Latina decided to be honest rather than let her squirm. She added, “God, you are so fucking hot like this,” before dropping to her knees.
Quinn nearly fainted at the sight of her sometimes-bestie on the floor in front of her. The blonde spread her legs wider without even realizing. Santana took that as a good sign. Tan fingers slid up pale calves, thighs, hips. Making eye contact, the Latina gripped the waistband of Quinn’s underwear and slid them down, helping the blonde step out of them before flinging the fabric across the room. Before Quinn could react, Santana dragged a single finger through the blonde’s wetness, barely ghosting over her clit. She knew the moan Quinn let out would fuel years of solo sessions, let alone the chance to taste her friend.
The blonde bit her lip as she watched the Latina bring that wet finger to her own lips and sucked off Quinn’s wetness. Before Santana could go in for more, Quinn gripped her hair and pulled her back up, kissing her hard. The blonde moaned at the taste of herself on Santana’s perfect lips, which forced another faint, “So fucking hot,” out of the other girl. Truthfully, Quinn had surprised herself with the intensity of the kiss. She usually didn’t see the appeal in tasting during sex, especially tasting herself. Something about Santana’s lips and moans and general aura of sex unlocked something unfamiliar.
Feeling bolder, Quinn tugged on the strap of Santana’s dress and commanded, “Off.” The blonde was so far gone that she didn’t even gloat at the immediate obedience. Instead, hazel eyes raked over every inch of toned, tan skin that Santana revealed. The Latina, of course, smirked at Quinn’s very gay ogling and made a show of stripping off her bra in addition to the dress.
“Like what you see?” Santana asked with a wink.
Quinn could only nod and pull the other girl against her, hands roaming as the blonde walked Latina backwards to the bed. When Santana hit the edge of the bed, Quinn pushed her shoulders until the other girl sat down. The blonde swung her own legs over and straddled the darker girl, letting her wetness smear Santana’s thigh.
“Well, are you going to help me?” Quinn brought Santana’s hand to the zipper on her own dress, spurring them into motion. To Quinn’s surprise, the more experienced girl took her time removing the blonde’s dress. Santana’s graceful fingers unzipped it slowly while her other hand pulled Quinn’s head in for a dizzying kiss. Once the garment was unzipped, the Latina let it pool at her hips while she kissed and nipped every inch of exposed skin. Santana’s touch was confident but surprisingly patient as she sucked at the skin just above Quinn’s bra before slowly removing that as well. All that remained between them were Santana’s soaked thong and a charged history they never discussed.
“You’re beautiful, Quinn,” Santana breathed. It was too much for Quinn, an odd echo of Puck’s mantra years ago when he took her virginity and perfect life. She didn’t want those words from Santana. She didn’t need more compliments like that.
“Kiss me,” the blonde whispered harshly, grunting when Santana obeyed. The Latina seemed to sense the mood change. There were no more words or sentimental glances as she let Quinn push her down on the bed harshly. Santana frowned but said nothing when Quinn actually tore her underwear off and threw the ruined fabric off the bed. They both groaned when Santana angled them so she could press her center into Quinn’s thigh and vice versa. When Quinn brought Santana’s hands to her breasts, the Latina wasted no time in caressing, pinching, and bringing each perfect nipple to her mouth. She let Quinn take her time exploring Santana’s own surgically-aided chest, hissing when Quinn took a tentative lick. That sound propelled them again, mouths connecting sloppily as Santana rolled them over to hover above Quinn.
When Santana hesitated, Quinn took a tan hand and brought it to her center. Confident again, Santana dragged a single finger through Quinn’s folds, relishing the wet heat actually dripping from the blonde. She explored the girl, hardly touching her clit, until Quinn was writhing.
The desperate look in Quinn’s hazel eyes as she whispered, “Please, San,” was absolutely the hottest moment of the Latina’s life. The lesbian took pity on her friend and plunged two fingers inside her, smirking at the moans that followed. Santana took it slow for all of a minute before Quinn wrapped her legs around the Latina in an attempt to gain more pressure. That made Santana remember that her friend hadn’t been the Celibacy Club president in years, and she let go. She let the heel of her palm press on the blonde’s clit, causing Quinn to unleash a torrent of curses. Santana never felt more powerful. When the Latina added a third finger, Quinn came with only two well-timed thrusts, doubling over and screaming Santana’s name.
Santana kept up a gentle motion as Quinn’s walls tried to both push her fingers out and suck them back in, drawing out Quinn’s orgasm as long as possible. Santa was sure it was the most intense orgasm of the blonde’s life.
When Quinn collapsed heaving on the bed, she expected Santana to lie next to her or attempt to get herself off. Instead, she felt plush lips pepper her in kisses, from her hips to her calves and back again. When the kisses stopped, Quinn propped herself up on her forearms and gasped when she made eye contact with Santana. The Latina waited for that moment to dip her head and lick through pink folds. Rather than close her eyes and fall back on her pillows like Santana had expected, Quinn held her gaze as Santana lapped at her. Hazel eyes met brown as the blonde bit her lip and grasped dark hair, making sure Santana couldn’t go anywhere. As if the Latina would rather be doing anything else in the world. When Quinn used her other hand to pinch her own nipple, Santana almost came herself. Neither girl noticed the gentle thrusting of Santana’s hips against the bed as she ate out her friend. It was just enough to take the edge off and let Santana concentrate on the blond before her.
Quinn’s second orgasm took longer, not due to any lack of skill on Santana’s part. Instead, it felt like Quinn was trying to hold off, enjoying the experience and connection too much to end it. There were unspoken confessions in their locked gaze, and for once neither girl tried to poke at it or push the feelings away. They simply looked, and tasted, and felt.
When the blonde finally came with a gasp, she pulled the Latina up to hold and kiss her through the aftershocks. Santana allowed it, even nuzzled against Quinn’s neck, in the way she had only done with one other person in her life. Strangely, thoughts of Brittany never even crossed her mind as it happened. She simply hummed in the crook of Quinn’s neck and relished in the sounds of Quinn catching her breath, even as she got goosebumps from where Quinn was dragging her nails across her back.
Of course Quinn wasn’t done yet. She was nothing if not thorough.