Chapter Text
Princess Caitlyn hates parties. Hates being the center of attention, hates forcing her laughter, hates having to appear interested in the face of dreadful small talk.
Tonight – the night of her birthday – is one example of many such cases. She had spent hours sitting at the dais in the atrium of the palace, her hand slobbered with unwelcomed kisses while she pretended to be grateful for meaningless presents. She had bid her time fairly well, the only tell of her impatience being the occasional darting of her eyes to the large grandfather clock at the edge of the room, counting the minutes as they passed. When the evening dance was in full swing – and when she had decided that she had had enough – she stood from her throne, resisting the temptation to stretch the stiffness out of her body in front of the huge crowd.
It had taken a surprisingly little amount of convincing for her parents to excuse her, already swept up with the dancers gliding through the bathroom. She had even taken the extra step to dismiss her personal guards when she had arrived at her wing, not willing to take the risk of having them posted right outside the doors to her bedchambers. When she had been sure that they had disappeared from around the corner, she had locked the heavy double doors behind her, feeling the metal gears slide into place with a resounding thunk. Apart from the wisps of elegant music and cheery laughter floating from the atrium, all had been still in the west wing, confirming her solitude. Perfect.
And so, she had begun her preparations. Preening, neatening, polishing – all in an effort for the next few hours to go exactly as she had planned.
By the time she is finished, her skin feels soft against her touch, and her lips are painted with a rouge the color of hindberry. The mingling scents of vanilla and honey linger in the air, and her bedsheets have been changed to that of the finest silk.
Rubbing in a few drops of rose oil into her dark hair, Caitlyn observes herself in the wide vanity mirror. The outfit she dons is unlike anything she has ever worn before. It is a beautiful arrangement of violet lace and silk, tiny flowers embroidered strategically across the entire ensemble. Her torso is hugged by a thin bustier, tightening her midriff and lifting her cleavage perfectly. The piece that covers her pelvis is held together by flimsy straps, and garter belts on her thighs keep her silk stockings in place. Caitlyn is almost convinced that the tailor had plucked it right out of her sweetest dreams.
It had been a discreet birthday gift from Mel, a Noxian Ambassador residing in Piltover, and one of her closest friends.
For your more…intimate endeavors, the Ambassador had said, chuckling when Caitlyn tapped her lightly on her shoulder. I never should have told you about her, she had snapped back, but she had been secretly grateful.
Now she only hopes that the knight she is trying to impress will like it. She knows she will, yet the thought alone is not enough to soothe her nerves.
If one observes closely, one would catch a glimpse of the subtle quake in her fingers, the occasional shiver she tries to suppress. There is a jittery excitement soaring through her veins, emanating from deep within her bones. She draws in a breath, attempting to keep the butterflies in her stomach at bay, when her eyes fall onto the edge of parchment peeking out from beneath a gilded jewelry box on her vanity.
A letter sent from her beloved, confirming a visit around this very hour. The knight’s ‘visits’ have been going on for as long as they had confirmed their love for one another – it was simply a matter of propriety that barred them from revealing their relationship to the public. Caitlyn did not want to imagine how her mother would react if the truth ever came to light. Her eyes return to the mirror’s image of herself, painted fingertips absent-mindedly tracing the threaded flower buds on her bustier.
Then, she hears it – three successive raps against the pane of her window.
Caitlyn swivels around, feeling her heart pick up speed. She fastens the belt of her robe, hiding the ensemble beneath, and hurries to the window. Tentatively, she pulls the curtain back – and surely enough, it is who she expects.
She unlatches the window and pushes it open, wincing when a cold breeze rakes its wispy fingers through her hair. The knight hoists herself onto the ledge and swings her body into the room, boots landing soundlessly on the floor. Caitlyn had always admired how she moved through the air with great finesse – and perhaps that was what made her an excellent fighter, and an equally skilled lover in bed. It had been evident, in all the times the knight’s hands had slid under her skirts, deft fingers handling the part of her that ached to be touched as she kissed her roughly – all because Caitlyn wanted her to. The intimates hidden beneath her robe burn against her skin, and she hopes Vi cannot see the flush of her skin in the dim candlelight.
She dips into a curtsy as the knight turns to face her, trying to suppress her growing smile. “Sir Violet.”
The knight had left for the past two months on an expedition with her cavalry across the country – and every minute she was gone, Caitlyn’s heart ached so visibly that her mother had begun to suspect that something was terribly wrong. But when the cavalry had returned, and Caitlyn had watched her ride through Piltover on horseback, hair flaming red under the sun, she had almost cried out of relief.
A quick scan reveals that she is physically fine. She is wearing a simple leather tunic – so different from the usual metal armor she usually dons – and her hair is disheveled, more so from the soft breeze outside than not having a comb carded through it. Even her usual longsword is replaced by a simple dagger at her hip, and an easy smile graces her face. But Caitlyn knows her better than that. Much like an injured animal, Vi would prefer to hide and lick her wounds alone than ask for help, and she is more than certain that multiple frightening wounds were hidden beneath her clothes.
Vi presses a hand against her abdomen and bows deeply, returning the princess’ show of courtesy. “Princess Caitlyn.”
Unable to go another moment without her skin against Vi’s, Caitlyn closes the distance between them and pulls her into a deep kiss, cradling her cheeks between her hands as one would a fragile flower. Vi's lips are tender and heavenly as they move against hers, and Caitlyn can feel how she smiles into the kiss, her own lips parting just enough to slide her tongue into Vi’s mouth. There is no resistance on the knight’s part, and Caitlyn almost groans when the knight’s teeth catch against her bottom lip.
The sensation is almost overwhelming, like the ghost of a touch on a particularly sensitive sliver of skin. Caitlyn presses her lips harder against Vi's, a single nagging thought surfacing at the back of her mind. Not enough.
Vi pulls away first, and Caitlyn’s eyes flutter open at the loss of contact, gaze roving over her beloved’s face as if seeing it for the first time.
“How did you escape?” The knight is whispering, seemingly afraid of being too loud.
There’s a bit of dirt stuck to her cheek, and Caitlyn swipes it away with the pad of her thumb. “I told them I was tired.”
The excuse might've seemed lackluster, but she had known better – Piltovians love their balls, and while it had been a party held in honor of her birthday, she had been certain her parents would have no qualms about continuing the ball without her presence.
“That’s all? They actually believed that an insomniac like you suddenly wants to go to bed at this hour?” Vi's tone is teasing, the ridiculous smirk on her face widening.
Caitlyn scowls and slaps her shoulder playfully, feeling the hardness of her muscles underneath her tunic. God, I've missed this. “You know how I feel about parties. And I actually do feel a bit tired.”
“I suppose you’re too tired to check this out then?”
Vi pulls away completely, her warmth suddenly replaced by harsh coolness, and Caitlyn folds her arms to brace against the wave of goosebumps puckering her skin. She loosens the drawstring of the duffel bag in her hands – something Caitlyn had not noticed she had been holding – and produces a small paper box out of it. She holds it out to the princess, her demeanor suddenly sobering.
The box is light in Caitlyn’s hands, and it is painted with vines of shakily drawn flowers that she can tell the knight had done herself. A wave of euphoria washes over her, and she suddenly feels like a child again – giddy and excited over the anticipation of receiving a present and uncovering its secrets. She cannot stop her smile from widening as she unwraps the ribbon around it and undoes the flaps of the box.
Inside sits a cupcake. It’s lying on its side, bearing soft, crumbly red velvet cake, and the dollop of icing that is supposed to be placed neatly at the top of the cupcake has melted, half of it smearing the inside of the box. It’s not perfect, but Caitlyn's heart clenches nevertheless.
“A cupcake for my cupcake – happy birthday.” Vi leans over, placing a chaste peck onto Caitlyn’s cheek. “I made it myself. It might be a little roughed up, but the taste makes up for it. Here–”
Vi skims a finger across the inside of the box, gathering some of the thick, white icing smeared across it. She brings it to Caitlyn’s lips, and she opens her mouth without protest. She swipes her tongue across Vi’s calloused fingers, delighting in the tangy sweetness that graces her taste buds. Her fingers curl slightly inside Caitlyn’s mouth, and her eyes flutter shut. Cream cheese…
Vi is right – despite its appearance, the cupcake is good.
She opens her eyes – mouth still latched onto her finger – her gaze landing on the knight. Vi's face is unreadable, but there’s an intensity in her stare that makes Caitlyn shiver in a way that has nothing to do with the temperature of the room.
“Well?” Her voice is weak, almost breathless as she awaits the princess’ answer. There is a palpable pause, in which understanding finally dawns upon Caitlyn. The liquid steel in her eyes tells her that Vi’s intention behind this visit is more than to simply talk – and she is oh-so glad that they are on the same page.
Caitlyn pulls away, eager to neutralize the hum of tension in the air. Not yet . “Sir Violet – you are one talented baker. Your service to the Princess of Piltover will not go without reward.”
With what she hopes is a teasing smile, Caitlyn turns, sauntering to her vanity once more. She can feel the sharpness of Vi’s eyes digging into her back like daggers, and she puts a little more sway in her hips, the unspoken excitement of it all making her unusually daring. Not a second after she rests the box onto the table, she hears footsteps drawing closer. Vi’s shadow falls over her vanity, resting in her peripheral.
Caitlyn can feel the knight’s attention lingering on her, and she does all she can to prolong the moment. She adjusts her robe in the mirror’s reflection; uncaps a small perfume bottle, dabbing the liquid at her pulse points; checks her rouge, fixing the parts that had smeared when she and Vi had kissed. If she’s lucky, it will be completely ruined by the time the night is over. All the while, Caitlyn chooses to pretend to be oblivious to the rising tension.
When she speaks again, her voice is surprisingly even. “And what about you? Did your family suspect anything about your departure?”
Vi’s family doesn’t know about any of this, of course. They had vowed to keep their relationship a secret on both ends.
“No – I waited until they were all asleep to leave.”
“Excellent.”
The air remains still, heavy with all the words left unspoken. Caitlyn recaps her rouge, placing it back on her nightstand, and glances at the knight in the mirror. Vi’s arms are folded, and she leans against the edge of the vanity, her face inscrutable and quiet. Hungry, like a wolf watching its prey, waiting for the right moment to draw itself out of the shadows.
Caitlyn does everything in her power to keep her hands steady as she lifts the gift box once more, examining the cupcake inside. “Would you like some?” She asks, but her head is spinning as if she has had too much to drink.
Not bothering to wait on an answer, she dares to take a small bite – careful of the fresh rouge on her lips – and begins to chew. She swallows, and does not miss when Vi’s stare follows the movement of her throat, her breath growing heavy. She has not revealed the sharpness of her teeth yet, but Caitlyn is already tempted to give her the green light so that she can finally be devoured by her beloved. However, this game has proven itself to be far too alluring to not continue.
The end of her move signals the start of Vi's, and she does not disappoint. She leans in, and Caitlyn's eyes flutter under the expectancy of a kiss – a kiss that doesn't come. Instead, her tongue swipes against a spot at the corner of her lips, leaving a simmering hot trail in its wake.
She smacks her lips, gunmetal eyes never leaving Caitlyn's face. "Still hungry."
Impressive. Such simple words, yet the double innuendo falls heavy on the room. It suddenly becomes very difficult for the princess to suck any air into her lungs.
It seems as though Vi knows this, knows how Caitlyn’s breath has been stolen and how her heart refuses to sit still in her chest, because her lips curve into a smile sharper than the edge of a scythe. But Caitlyn is not at a total loss. Vi's hunger is not a problem – but only if she gets to feed her out of her own hand. And that's exactly what she does.
Caitlyn takes a step back, putting enough distance between them. She breaks off a piece of the cupcake, ignoring the crumbs that fall to the floor. Slowly, she brings the dessert to the knight’s lips. This time, she is the one watching, waiting for the right moment to pounce. There is a palpable pause, until Vi’s mouth opens, canines shining–
Caitlyn snatches her hand back and pops the piece of cake into her mouth. For a beat, there is only confusion written across the knight’s features – until her face pinches into an expression of annoyance. A laugh bubbles into the princess' throat; It is ever so easy to get a reaction out of her, and she can only imagine how much sweeter her pent up anger will taste when it is channeled exactly where Caitlyn intends.
Her wish comes sooner than expected when Vi pushes her, and she stumbles back against the edge of the vanity. Quicker than she can blink, the knight’s hands come up to rest on either side of the vanity, pinning the princess against it and leaving her with no point of escape. Her hunger is so palpable that Caitlyn can practically see it rolling off of her with every labored breath and restless flex of her fingers; she can almost taste it in the air, within the dregs of Vi’s sweat and cologne.
“Tell me.” She leans in, her face dipping below her jaw as she inhales. Caitlyn shudders. “Tell me you want this.”
Still, she is holding back – even if by the skin of her teeth. “If not, we can stop.”
Don't be daft. “I want you.”
Caitlyn moves first, reaching out for the knight and pulling her face towards hers so fast that she feels her teeth smash against hers. Her lips dance against Vi’s and she shifts her hands to rest against the broad column of her neck. Under the collar of her tunic, Caitlyn can feel the hummingbird beat of her pulse, betraying any reservation Vi might have about showing her desire.
She is all too aware of Vi’s hands sliding to the hem of her robe, knuckles brushing against the sliver of skin uncovered by her stockings, her touch searing and intense all the while. Their kiss becomes messy and feverish, overrun with the desire to take the moment in a million different directions at once. Caitlyn runs her hand through Vi’s hair, pulling gently at the strands at the nape of her neck, and a low sound is ripped out of the knight’s throat. In retaliation, one of her hands comes up to cup Caitlyn’s breast, running her thumb gently over her nipple in a way that contrasts the aggressiveness of everything else, akin to a kiss over a bruise.
Caitlyn is still trying to decode these sensations when the knight breaks their kiss – only for a meager moment in order to breathe – before she leans in again, lips finding hers in the darkness. Vi bends slightly, reaching behind Caitlyn’s knees and lifting the princess as if she is nothing more than a bag of feathers. She places her gently on top of the vanity, and at the edge of her senses, Caitlyn hears a few bottles clatter to the floor. She pays it no mind, unwilling to shatter the moment. Nothing but her beloved’s touch seems to matter, in the grand scheme of things.
She wraps her legs around Vi, pulling her even closer. Ever the mind reader, Vi takes this as a cue to move forward. Her kisses trail from the corner of Caitlyn’s lips to her jaw to the dip in her neck – and the princess shivers, barely biting back a moan. Vi moves to press her knee against the space between her legs, and Caitlyn cries out, a startling sound amidst the night’s quiet.
Vi pulls back suddenly, and Caitlyn almost whines at the loss of contact. “You okay?” Her own breath is coming short and fast, but her eyes are shining with concern. Caitlyn would find it sweet if her cunt had not been throbbing, eager for attention. She needs Vi fast.
She straightens and pulls against the knot of her robe, her fingers shaking. The cloth falls, revealing the intimates hidden underneath. The reveal is less skillful and graceful than she had intended, but it seems to do the trick anyways. Vi’s pupils dilate, swallowing the gray of her irises. They rove over Caitlyn’s body with such an intensity that she feels beyond undressed, and she grows even hotter.
“It’s a surprise,” Caitlyn explains, still trying to catch her breath. “For you.”
Only reverence and admiration can be heard in Vi’s voice when she speaks again, fingers reaching out to trace the embroidered flowers across her bust. “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
“It’s a gift from Mel.”
“And who gave this to you?” Vi’s attention shifts to the trifold mirror hanging low at the back of the vanity, gold embellishments glinting in the dim light. “That wasn’t here the last time I visited.”
“Duke Delaine,” Caitlyn stutters, surprised by the question. She had known that Delaine had her eyes set on her for quite a while – the Duke had never been very covert about her intentions. She also knew that Vi knew; Caitlyn had always been aware of the jealousy that boiled under her skin every time her name was mentioned. She watches as the knight's eyes darken at the mention of the Duke, and a warm sliver of satisfaction curls into her belly.
“I think we can make good use of this, cupcake.” The knight runs her knuckles across the edge of the mirror.
“Hm?”
“You'll see.”
Vi stoops, deft fingers curling around the strings of the duffle bag. She reaches inside and pulls out the rest of its contents – and Caitlyn cannot stop the gasp that escapes her lips.
In Vi's hands are a harness marked with runes, along with a skin-colored dildo, the large imprint of a vein running from its base to the tip.
“Where did you get it?” Caitlyn's voice is even despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins.
Vi puts on the harness in a swift, practiced motion, as if she has done this a thousand times before.
“A shop near the edge of the city,” she explains, securing the dildo in place, its veins flashing a bright blue. “It even works with Hex. Let me show you.”
The knight reaches out, taking Caitlyn's hands into hers and guiding it gently towards her pelvis. Caitlyn wraps her fingers around the base of the dildo, feeling the material thrum to life under her fingertips as she traces its length. It's long and thick enough that it should not be too difficult to work with, and the sight of it hanging off Vi's hips is enough to make her mouth water. What's even better is the look on Vi's face.
Her head is tipped to the side, her mouth slightly agape, as if a sound is close to escaping her lips. Utterly entranced, Caitlyn watches her.
"You can feel it."
She nods. Then the moment passes and she pulls away, her fingers curling into a beckoning gesture. Caitlyn stands up from the vanity, bare feet hitting the cold tiles. She is just a hair’s breadth away from Vi now, and she can feel her breath feather against her face. The knight’s warm fingers grasp her elbow, and she spins her around gently so that they are both facing the mirror.
In the image the mirror provides, Caitlyn can only describe her appearance as absolutely debauched. Her lips are swollen, her chest is blotchy and red, and her skin is covered in a thin layer of sweat; Vi appears no different. They lock eyes in the mirror, and Caitlyn is suddenly aware of how wet she is between her legs.
“I am going to try something, and I want you to tell me if you don’t like it.” She pauses, and Caitlyn nods eagerly, giving her the green light.
Vi runs a lazy hand up her torso, from navel to collarbone, grazing the upper curve of her breast – never once breaking her stare in the mirror. Caitlyn can feel the full weight of her attention on every one of her reactions, from the hitch in her breath to the widening of her eyes as she leans in, pressing a kiss against the back of her neck.
It’s a successful distraction, because Caitlyn hardly notices when Vi’s hand snakes to her back, deft fingers undoing the clasps of her bustier. Sooner than she can blink, it is undone, and the piece of cloth hits the floor soundlessly. The knight’s hands move across her skin towards her chest, touch feather light as they thumb over her hardening nipples.
A quiet moan escapes her lips, eyes fluttering shut. If Vi had not been supporting her, she would have already collapsed into a puddle on the floor.
“Cait,” Vi whispers the nickname against her neck, the intimacy of it sending another tingle of electricity through her. “Open your eyes.”
And she does, her gaze colliding with Vi’s in the mirror. Her eyes shift to the dazed look on her face, then to her chest, to the rough hands thumbing her breasts, and blood rushes to her face at the filthiness of the image in front of her. A fresh wave of wetness blooms between her thighs.
She shifts against Vi, against her dildo, and is delighted when she sucks in a sharp breath.
“Vi–”
“Not yet, my love.” Vi’s face remains still, but Caitlyn can tell by the tenseness of her voice that she is holding back by a mere thread.
Her left hand snakes down to her stomach, holding her against her body, while the other remains in place. Then, her fingers begin to move, kneading her breast roughly. That, in addition to Vi’s wandering stare roving over every inch of her body, is possibly enough to send her over the edge. Her head lolls back onto Vi’s shoulder, concentrating on riding the sensation to the longest extent.
Without warning, Vi’s hand stops moving.
Caitlyn flinches, her entire body feverish and restless. She leans away, shooting an askance look at the knight. “Why’d you stop?” Her voice sounds needy and whiny in her ears, but she couldn't care less.
There’s a mischievous, infuriating spark in Vi’s gaze. “You were supposed to keep your eyes on the mirror.”
“You didn’t say that!”
“I did.”
Caitlyn scowls, any morsel of patience she had quickly withering. “You said to keep my eyes open. ”
“And did you?”
Caitlyn’s scowl deepens further, and Vi laughs. Laughing, at my expense.
“Are you enjoying this, at least?”
Caitlyn is not enjoying her teasing – but at the back of her mind, she knows that the gradual build-up will make her release all the more sweeter. That, coupled with the involvement of this mirror…
She sighs, watching her shoulders sag in the mirror.
“Use your words.” Vi’s eyes are watchful and expectant as she toys with a lock of Caitlyn’s hair – a telltale sign that she’s egging her on.
Caitlyn huffs, annoyed with the fact that the knight is actually going to make her say it out loud. But her patience is running thin.
“I need you.” She shifts, feeling the hardness of the dildo against her ass. She is pleased when she feels it twitch, and the knight’s brows furrow.
Still, Vi remains relentless. “Need me where, cupcake?”
Caitlyn reaches up, taking the hands lingering on her arms and placing them on her pelvis. She feels her press into her hips and she sighs, the aching, needless pain returning once more.
“Here.”
“Say it.”
“My cunt. Need you there,” Caitlyn spits, the dirty word feeling like a lump of coal stuck in her throat. Dirty – isn’t that what she is right now, her nakedness splayed out and exposed for all the world to see? Though from the way the knight watches her in the mirror, like she is simply hers to delight in and feast upon, 'dirty' is the last thing she may be able to describe herself as.
Vi’s focus flickers down to her lips, and Caitlyn instinctively licks them, tasting the unique flavor of her rouge. She presses a soft kiss against her shoulder, before moving her hands to her waist, grabbing at the clasps holding up her underwear. Caitlyn watches her struggle for a few moments, before she thinks to assist her. Too late.
A rip snaps through the air, and Caitlyn feels the cloth around her pelvis loosen. She shoots a glare at Vi in the mirror.
“You ruined it.”
Vi pulls at the cloth gently, and Caitlyn winces at the friction the movement provides between her legs. Just a taste, and her entire body feels as if it is a spark away from catching fire.
She holds the ripped panties in the air. “Looks like it had been ruined way before I ripped it, cupcake.”
Caitlyn catches a whiff of her own scent emanating from the cloth, and it appears to be thoroughly well soaked – all of it indisputable evidence of her own arousal. To that, she can say nothing; Vi simply chuckles.
She drops the underwear to the floor next to the bustier and kicks them both to the side. Then, she meets Caitlyn’s gaze in the mirror once more, and she shudders under the weight of the knight’s full attention.
“I am going to give you what you want.” Vi is speaking, but Caitlyn is finding it difficult to concentrate on anything other than the feeling of her fingers grazing her waist. “But you have to let me. ”
“Alright.” Eager to say anything, do anything, if it meant Vi would touch her where she really wanted her to.
“Good.”
Vi kicks a foot out, pulling the stool from beneath the vanity. She props her foot against it, her knee now at the same level as Caitlyn’s waist.
“Swing your leg over mine,” she says, and Caitlyn obeys, leaning back against the knight’s shoulder.
In the mirror, she can see her cunt splayed out on full display, inviting and beckoning, just from the way her arousal soaks through the stockings perched on her thighs. Vi's hand comes to rest around her stomach and wraps around her waist, while the other dangles free.
"You said you want me here?" Caitlyn can see Vi's eyes dart between her face and her cunt in the mirror, her hand slowly coming to rest inside her thigh, just inches away from where she really wants it – so close.
"Yes!" Caitlyn scoots lower, hoping that Vi’s hand would slide up her thigh – but her effort is futile. She can feel Vi's laugh rumble through her chest and against her back, her breaths stirring Caitlyn's hair.
“Just making sure.” And without warning, Vi plunges her fingers between her folds.
Caitlyn cries out, so loud that she almost fears someone might have heard her through the metal doors. But that thought, and every single coherent thought to come after, dissipates when Vi's fingers begin to move.
She shrieks again, the remaining strength in her legs disappearing as she falls back against the knight. Vi’s fingers are experienced and sure, knowing where to touch and with just the right amount of pressure. Her breath is coming too fast and too short, but all she is able to do is watch her reflection, too afraid that Vi would stop if her eyes dared to drift anywhere else. Even more than that, the sight laid out in front of her is mesmerizing – she can see the way her folds move with each flick of her beloved’s fingers, how they part when they move from her entrance, brushing all the way up to her swollen clit–
“Ah! Vi!”
Finally – Caitlyn finds the release she has been so desperately aching for. Her back arches as she jerks against Vi’s hand. The knight matches her pace, working her clit furiously as she carries her through her orgasm. She only stops when the princess’ body goes slack, hair falling into her face.
For a moment, the air is heavy only with the sound of Caitlyn’s ragged breathing. Somewhere inside the haziness of her mind, she begins to wonder if she had been too loud. She quiets her breaths, waiting for the impending thud of guard footfalls, or her father’s concerned knocks on her door. But none of it comes.
“You okay?” A hand brushes the hair out of her face and she turns her head, meeting Vi’s gaze. Her eyes are shining with amusement, and there is a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead.
A nod is all Caitlyn can muster in response.
“I’m going to pull away now,” Vi says. Her hand is still between her legs, pressed against the area she is most sensitive. She begins to remove her hand as gently as possible – still, Caitlyn flinches. She pulls her leg from on top of Vi’s, careful not to press her thighs together as she steadies herself on her own two feet.
Before Vi can pull away completely, she reaches out, snatching her hand. “Need more.” Her voice is hoarse and hardly recognizable to her own ears, but Vi understands anyway. Although she is still throbbing, head swimming from the haze of her orgasm, she cannot stop now. Her hunger is insatiable.
She knows Vi is not finished with her yet – she can tell, from the excited thrum of her dildo, that she has not had enough herself.
“Bend over.”
And so Caitlyn obeys, leaning over and pressing her hands into the edge of her vanity. Vi positions herself behind her, and she can feel her guide the tip near her entrance. She shivers, the sensitivity of her previous orgasm melding with the promise of new pleasure.
“Slow. Please.” And much to her relief, the knight heeds her orders. She takes her time sliding in, stopping when Caitlyn tenses up or makes a noise, and waiting patiently for the green light once more. Agonizingly slow, she is filled up with the thick dildo, gasping for air by the time Vi bottoms out.
In the mirror they watch each other; Vi’s reflection remains her anchor, marveling when she grits her teeth, when her eyes widen, feeling her grip on her hips tighten. Caitlyn knows she will wake up the next morning with bruises, blue-black mementos of the night’s activities – and the thought alone is enough to send another delighted shudder up her spine.
Vi’s left hand traces the dip of her back, arcing to the planes of her stomach and up to her chest. Caitlyn knows her intentions, and yet she still gasps when she cups her breast. She watches her roll and squeeze her nipple between her middle finger and thumb, too drunk on the sensation to notice that Vi’s other hand has come up to rest against the back of her neck. She squeezes slightly using only a fraction of her sheer strength, and Caitlyn’s insides clench.
She had forgotten Vi can feel it when she is inside of her. The look on her face is priceless, and she knows the knight will not last very long once they pick up momentum – and she is excited to see it.
“How does it feel?” Caitlyn asks.
Vi’s eyes are half-lidded, and she hardly seems to be breathing. “S’ good.”
“Is it too much?”
“No.” Her quick response draws a breathy laugh out of Caitlyn.
She twists her arm and reaches for Vi’s cheek, pulling her gently so that she lies flush against her own body. Vi’s heart thuds an unsteady rhythm against her back, her cheeks ruddy and her forehead coated in sweat as if she had been out training in the sun – but her gaze remains transfixed upon Caitlyn.
Vi leans over, the hand on her breast coming up to angle her jaw towards hers, locking their lips into a kiss. The other traces a line towards the inside of her thigh, squeezing.
Caitlyn's hips buck, and she feels Vi suck in a breath. She breaks the kiss, eyes wide, a quiet storm brewing inside them.
“You– ”
In retaliation, Vi thrusts once, hard and rough. The back of the vanity moves, hitting the wall with a quiet thud.
“Fuck!” Caitlyn tightens her grip on the edge of it, soft palms digging into the intricate carvings of the wood. In the mirror, Vi’s smirk grows; Caitlyn tries to collect herself, but she can feel the dildo sliding out of her, dreadfully slowly.
“I love it when you curse.” Vi leans back, the hand on the back of her neck tightening while the other keeps her hips in place.
Infuriating. The knight thrusts again, and a hiss escapes from between Caitlyn’s teeth.
She’s doing all she can to communicate her desperation – sinking her nails into the wood of the vanity, pleading with her eyes, trying her best to rut against Vi’s hips despite her vice grip.
“Please.”
“How do you want it?” Caitlyn sighs in relief – all it had taken was one simple word. She will give her what she wants – hopefully immediately.
“Hard,” she replies, words sugarcoated in lust. She arches her back slightly, feeling the curve of the dildo brush against the spot where she needs it most. “And rough.” In the mirror, she is pleased to see her own fiery desire reflected back at her.
The hand at her neck gathers her loose hair, wrapping it around her knuckles and holding on tightly. “I’m going to start moving.”
And that she does. Her pace is testing the waters – slow and deliberate. Caitlyn can feel every inch of herself being filled when she pushes in, and the emptiness left in her wake when she pulls out. She is hyper-aware of every one of Vi’s movements, heightened by the image the mirror provides, and she can see how the dildo slides into her, slick and shining with her arousal.
Her vision jerks when Vi pulls on her hair tighter, her pace increasing ever so slightly.
“Are you enjoying watching yourself get fucked?” Vi thrusts harder, punctuating her sentence.
“Yes!” Caitlyn clenches, her insides fluttering against the dildo. Vi seems encouraged by this, because she pounds into her even faster. At this point, the vanity is banging against the wall so hard that Caitlyn begins to realize that it may be very possible that the eggshell paint will be dented by the time they are finished.
“Vi!” She shrieks as the knight tugs on her hair harder, fingers digging into her hips. Her release is so close, and Caitlyn begins to fear that she may not be able to prolong this moment for much longer. “Not gonna last.”
Vi is panting, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. When she speaks, her voice is shaky against her gritted teeth, and Caitlyn can feel how her thrusts stutter – she is also close to the edge. “It’s okay – just come.”
With her explicit permission, Caitlyn finally gives in. Her knees buckle, and she pushes against Vi, pulling her in deeper with every thrust. A scream tears out of her throat, and she slaps a hand quickly against her mouth, teeth digging into her fingers.
The onslaught of her orgasm seems to trigger Vi’s, because she is hissing through her teeth, a string of curses spewing out of her mouth. She is thoroughly blissed out, her eyes shut tightly and her head tipped back. The sight is devastatingly beautiful – and arousing. Caitlyn feels her insides begin to tug once more, another wave of pleasure following right after the other.
They finish almost at the same time, just seconds apart. Vi pulls out from inside her, the air fraught with the scent of sweat and sex, and she steadies herself with her arms around Caitlyn's waist. She falls forward and buries her face into the crook of her neck, both of them leaning against the edge of the vanity for support. An eternity seems to pass before they are finally able to collect themselves.
“Are you alright?” Vi asks, her voice quiet and hoarse. Her eyes are glazed over, blissful fatigue written across her features.
Caitlyn nods, turning so that she can comfortably wrap her arms around her neck. She pecks her on the cheek, returning the stupid smile plastered on her face.
What follows are the familiar motions of aftercare. By the time they are finished, they are lying in comfortable silence, silk sheets and cotton stuffed pillows a welcome relief. Caitlyn is struggling to keep her eyes open; every second she spends with her beloved is precious. She watches Vi kiss her fingertips lightly, and although her face is angled away from her line of vision, her mind appears to be far.
“Are you alright?” Caitlyn asks, shooting the question Vi had asked earlier back to the knight.
“Mhm.” A simple, half-hearted response, staunchly focused on kissing the knuckles on her right hand.
Caitlyn pulls away, resting a hand on her cheek so that she is forced to meet her gaze. “Don’t lie to me.”
There is a long pause, and she can practically hear the knight thinking. She swallows hard.
“I missed you, Cait.” The confession slips out of her mouth, her eyes shining and crestfallen. “I missed you so badly while I was gone.”
Caitlyn feels her heart tear a little. “I missed you too. But I’m here now.” She tries her best to keep her voice light, but she has already guessed everything the knight is too afraid to say. The brief moments they share are few and far apart, inflicting a strain on their bond. But that is a problem for another time – for now, all the princess is content to do is sleep next to her lover.
Caitlyn buries her face into the crook of Vi’s neck, her eyes beginning to droop as the knight cards her fingers through her hair. All the while, she tries not to think about how when she awakens the following morning, she will be alone once more.