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At first it's just a whisper of air around Cat’s body. It stirs the hair on her arms and at the nape of her neck, making her shiver despite the warmth of her office. It happens again, and then again, and then a ghost of a touch from her shoulder down towards her elbow finally enables Cat to put two and two together to come up with—
"Kara." She says the name quietly, the two syllables rolling from her tongue almost too low for her own ears to pick up, but she knows she'll be heard regardless of how softly she speaks.
At her desk, Kara's head turns. She smiles at Cat, sweet and innocent, like butter wouldn’t melt. Cat growls.
"Kiera! Get in here!"
Not quite faster than the human eye can perceive, but with definite speed, Kara appears at her door.
"Yes, Ms. Grant?"
"You need to stop whatever it is you're doing, right now," she says. Kara’s eyes widen a little and she knows her message has gotten across. “I need you to find me the photos for the feature spread, and I asked you for a latte two hours ago and yet I still seem to be caffeine free. What are you waiting for? Go!”
Kara goes.
The doors to the outer office have barely swung closed when she feels the rush of air against her skin again. If she hadn’t already been witness to Kara’s super speed on numerous occasions, she wouldn’t have thought it was possible.
Kara got her message. Or her lack of one. They have a safeword, and Cat could have used it. Should have used it if she was being remotely sensible about the matter. The thing is, when it comes to Kara, more and more often Cat is finding herself doing the exact opposite of sensible. It’s maddening, how little control she seems to have.
A sudden brush of fingers over the front of her shirt makes Cat’s breath stutter in her chest. It’s only the slightest stimulation, but her nipples start to tighten, and when the touch comes again, seconds later, she has to bite her lip to stop the whimper she wants to let out. Her breasts have always been sensitive, which is something Kara had discovered and delighted in early in their relationship, and something she seems to be taking full advantage of now.
The next touch comes with Kara’s voice whispering into Cat’s ear, echoing in shudders down her spine.
“Cat, go take your bra off.”
It takes less time than Cat would like to admit for her to follow Kara’s order. She goes straight to her private dressing room, and there’s no hesitation in her at all as she unfastens the buttons to her shirt. There is, however, a definite tremble in her fingers as she unhooks her bra and slides it over her arms. She leaves it folded on the countertop and quickly slips her shirt back on.
Her thumbs brush over her breasts as she fastens the buttons, and Cat sucks in a breath, aching to touch herself further. They’ve only been playing this game for minutes and yet she’s already hot, throbbing and slick between her thighs.
Back at her desk, Cat sits down heavily. She tries to concentrate on the work in front of her, but she’s tense, waiting. She shuffles papers around, taps absently on her iPad, not taking in a single thing. Kara makes her wait an inordinate amount of time. If the clock says only five minutes have passed since she came out of her dressing room, it is clearly lying, because it‘s an eternity before she feels Kara’s presence once more.
Through the very thin fabric of Cat’s silk shirt, Kara pinches her nipples. Hard and without any warning at all. Cat clamps down on the urge to cry out, bites her lip against the pleasure surging through her body. Kara will be made to pay. She will—
There are—there are teeth. Kara’s teeth scraping over Cat’s nipple, and Cat’s not even going to question how. It feels too good for her to think clearly at all, and she shudders, hands now gripping the edge of her desk as first one breast, then the other gets treated to the feel of Kara’s mouth.
After that, it’s all Cat can do to stay still and seated and quiet, to not give away exactly what is happening to her. Kara touches her, teases her, drives her almost out of her mind with need. Sometimes Kara finds her roughly, squeezing and pulling at her tender skin, sometimes she’s not even sure if Kara’s touched her at all, all she knows is a sudden jolt of pleasure.
And then, just as Cat’s reaching breaking point, everything stops, and Cat’s left with only the feel of her heart pounding in her chest and the ragged inhale and exhale of her breathing echoing around her.
“I have your latte, Ms. Grant.”
Cat looks up, meets Kara’s smug gaze, with a glare and stands — a little unsteadily — from behind her desk. “Put that down and come with me.”
In her dressing room, Cat barely even waits for Kara to close the door behind them before she’s backing her against it, kissing her roughly, with all the pent up lust she’s been holding in for what seems an age.
She bites down against Kara’s bottom lip, harder than she might anyone else, and feels Kara’s resulting moan echo with a throb between her thighs.
“It’s a shame you can’t make yourself invisible,” Cat says, stepping back from the kiss, from Kara, and walking across to the counter where she’d left her folded bra earlier. She leans against it with a casualness she really doesn’t feel. “I’d have had you on your knees under my desk with your mouth where it belongs.”
“In front of the whole office, Ms. Grant?”
“Unlike some people, I am quite capable of maintaining composure under duress.”
“And you dragging me in here was…”
Cat doesn’t bother dignifying Kara’s words with a response, couldn’t if she tried, because she knows Kara’s right. She shimmies her skirt up, lets out a pleased sound when Kara steps up, hands immediately reaching for her underwear once it’s accessible.
She strokes Cat through the lacy material, gently, teasing, and Cat’s hips surge in response.
“Oh, Cat.” Kara looks at her now, almost wonderingly. “You really are… you’re soaked. I did this?”
“What did you expect? You— Oh—” Kara presses over her clit, strokes against it once, and then again, and Cat’s finally had more than she can bear. She pushes down hard against Kara’s shoulders, snaps, “Your mouth. Now.”
Kara smiles at her as she sinks to her knees, taking Cat’s underwear with her, and Cat thinks she’s never seen such a perfect sight.
Her hips roll forward without any real thought, and when Kara slides her hands back up over her thighs, Cat can’t keep her pleasure quiet. She moans Kara’s name, reaches down to fit fingers through her hair, urging Kara’s head forward, her mouth where Cat needs it most.
Kara licks into her eagerly, tongue sliding through her cunt, flattening out over her clit, and Kara moans like she’s enjoying it more than Cat is, something Cat knows can’t be possible because she feels like she’s been waiting for this forever. The frustration that’s been pent up for so long settles inside of her, only to be replaced by a new tension as Kara lifts her leg, placing it over her shoulder and opening Cat further to Kara’s mouth, to her tongue, which does things Cat is certain is only possible with alien physiology.
Cat shudders, trembles against Kara’s touch. Her fingers clutch and release ineffectively against the smooth white marble of the countertop behind her. She’s so close already — and it’s not surprise, because even without the teasing, Kara knows exactly how Cat likes to be touched, could probably make her come in seconds if she so desired. And could too keep her hanging for hours, work her to the point of desperation and leave her there, leave her until she breaks, until she begs.
It wouldn’t take much, today, for Cat to beg.
She’s almost there when Kara’s mouth leaves her, far far before she’s ready. But Cat finds herself quickly and effortlessly lifted onto the counter, and she’s barely settled before two of Kara’s finger press into her. Kara moves gently at first, then harder when Cat asks for it. Harder still until Cat’s gasping, breathless and flushed with the pleasure of it.
Kara kisses her then, messily and with teeth knocking together, and Cat clings to her, kisses her back, chases her mouth when Kara pulls away, says, “Don’t come, Cat. Don’t come until I tell you you can.”
Cat struggles through the haze of her lust to comprehend Kara’s words. When she does, she whimpers, rolls her hips against the slowing thrusts of Kara’s hand and shakes her head.
“Promise me, Cat.”
Cat gasps. “I promise,” she says then, because she knows it fruitless to deny Kara anything she wants.
She’s barely even gotten the words out when Kara’s mouth closes suddenly over her nipple.
It’s cold. It’s so cold, and Cat manages a brief moment of thanks that Kara did not try this while she was still in her very public office. She barely manages to contain her scream, biting down on the index finger of her left hand hard enough that she knows she’ll have a mark there later.
Kara moves over her chest, treats Cat’s other breast to the same coldness, and even though Cat’s expecting it this time, it doesn’t stop her from crying out. And when Kara pulls back to blow icy cold breath over the hardened peaks at the same time her fingers pick up the pace of their thrusting once more, Cat thinks she might pass out.
She doesn’t come, though. She doesn't come because she promised Kara she wouldn’t. But she wants to, want to let the pleasure wash over her, give in to it, to the orgasm that’s been building since the first brush of Kara’s fingers over her shoulder so long ago.
Kara breathes out warm and then cold in tantalising succession, and Cat writhes under her, frenzied and helpless.
“Kara,” she says. “Kara.”
There’s more than one way for a person to beg, and the broken sound of Cat’s voice, her repeated, almost delirious murmuring of Kara’s name. It’s enough.
“You can come now, Cat. I need you to come for me.”
And it’s with those words that Cat realises Kara’s as desperate for this as she it. It’s enough, with Kara’s fingers inside of her, mouth back against her breasts. Her body works frantically for a few seconds, and then, with one final thrust of Kara’s fingers, Cat comes.
She doesn’t pass out, but things definitely go a little fuzzy around the edges as Kara works her through her orgasm, prolonging her pleasure until Cat’s almost ready to beg her to stop. She slumps backwards, then, against the wall behind her, trusting to Kara to stop her from sliding bonelessly off the edge of the counter.
Kara grins at her. Far too pleased with herself, and somehow, Cat finds the energy to say, “I’m going to make you pay for that.”
Kara’s grin just widens further before she replies, “Looking forward to it.”