Work Text:
Edit: Now with GORGEOUS Jane art by Athena (@prettyboyprkr)
It is a good morning, just like every morning together with her Jane is unfailingly a good morning.
Which is not a given— Lily is made of ups and downs, emotionally, financially, with her father, who shall not be named further — nonetheless Jane, who has not gone unscathed by life either, has brought sunshine, spreadsheets and a really unforeseen amount of silliness into her life these past months.
There is a notepad on Lily's fridge, for example. It used to be for boring lists of groceries, but now it belongs exclusively to Jane's adorable little drawings. Sipping her abomination of a pre-workout drink which has actual fucking fresh kale in it, prepping for her frankly inhumane and Lily-phobic five a.m. run (life has not always been kind to Lily, but nothing has been as cruel as Jane wrenching herself from Lily's grasp when it's still dark, leaving her to freeze and starve and wither and die), Jane will always leave a little drawing while chewing absentmindedly on the rim of her glass.
To an outsider, they may seem a sort of appeasement. But they don't know Jane the way Lily does, her unapologetic-ness in the literal sense of the term, her refusal to feel bad about her choices. Her ability to take accountability, to apologize, without ever lowering herself into petty circus tricks or walking on eggshells. So Lily receives the cute little drawings as they are intended: like a little kiss, a little tenderness, freely given, joyfully given. Lily is not ashamed to admit she sometimes sniffs and kisses the doodles in the early morning hours. She imagines she still smells Jane's hands, her sweat, and the brilliance of her rare whimsy.
As horrible as her Jane-less early mornings are, her late mornings are full of Jane, and Jane is full of her, unfailingly. Every time Jane returns from her runs, Lily tackles her onto the living room carpet. Either Jane has enough fight left in her to make it to the shower before Lily drags her to bed again, or Lily can put her head in Jane's exercise-sweaty neck when she finally pushes her into the pillows.
The thing with leaving Lily to herself for too long is that she inevitably works herself up, smelling Jane's bedsheets, going through her memories from the night before, Jane naked on top of her, under her, crawling away from her, begging her. By the time Jane returns, Lily always resembles more of a panther lurking in the trees who millennia of natural selection have left with genes primed to pounce successfully on her food, than a well-adjusted cerebral academic girl.
Today, Jane managed to bolt for the showers after kicking Lily in the back of the knee in an unprecedented preemptive strike before Lily could even put her on the floor. Lily spent five minutes on her back, arm thrown over her face, giggling. Endlessly charmed.
Inevitably though Jane ends up underneath Lily on the mattress, bouncing visibly up and down on the feathered recoil from the way Lily is fucking into her from the back, merciless, a thumb playing in her ass too just to be a bitch. She spits on it, a disgusting sound, to be even more of a bitch. Jane hugs the pillow under her face closer to smother her whine, but it barely does her any favors. When Lily slips her entire thumb in and spanks her ass once, right on the tender skin at the top of her thigh where the hit is not cushioned by Jane's otherwise impressively fat ass, if Lily may say so, Jane collapses into the sheets with a truly pornographic whine and lets Lily do whatever she wants.
With every thrust, Lily can feel the way Jane clenches around her, making her work forcefully to keep up the pace and depth. Lily swears, as she always does, that she can through some divine force of cosmic fairness, that is making up for her lack of a cock, feel Jane wet and desperate around her even through the lifeless plastic of a strap.
Maybe it's just Jane. No one will ever be like her. If everything goes according to Lily’s plan, there will be no one else, neither for her, nor for Jane.
“Lily please, I can’t, it’s too—“ she tries to get up on her forearms again when Lily grabs her hips tighter, fucks her meaner, but she is shaking like a little fawn on its first fragile steps, limbs tired out and doused in pleasure, so Lily just giggles as she easily pushes her back down.
“You’re so cute, pretending you don't want it” she hums, planting a kiss on Jane’s shoulder blade, “like you're not about to come on my cock, my pretty baby.” She can taste salt on her lips, transferred from Jane's soft skin, and licks it languidly. Jane can never stay clean for long. Not in Lily's capable and dedicated hands. Something purrs inside of Lily at the thought.
If someone would listen to her thoughts right now, Lily shudders, they might think her the pervert. Poor Jane, they might say. Putting up with her bedsheet-smelling, her rough treatment, her naked, unveiled obsession.
But they have never met her Jane.
<3
It's an early spring day, barely warm, when Jane finally happens to Lily.
An inevitability, in hindsight. Lily knew from the day she started thinking about Jane more often than she thought of tacos, iced latte and her (occasional!) cigarettes combined. Maybe even since the first time Jane opened her mouth in their first semester together, ripping Lily's frankly brilliant argument into shreds, face neutral, voice flat, preppy, annoying, so infuriating. Being outdone was the most potent aphrodisiac to a person like Lily, intellectually never bested before, which for better or worse probably sealed poor Jane's fate that very moment.
But Jane, the real Jane, hadn't happened to Lily yet. Unbeknownst to Lily, this would come to be a clash of celestial objects, not instantaneous, but quickly burning up matter and releasing energy in quantities normally only commanded by divine beings, and irreversible on the levels of even the smallest particles, leaving the universe forever changed.
Right now, on this not-too-warm spring day, with her fingernails grating over the cheap wood of her university classroom desk, Lily is about to lose it.
The image blooms so clearly in her mind: jumping up off her chair until it scrapes back with an awful noise, striding over to Jane's deadpan face — which is busy making her stupid rebuttals that have a point but are always there, always rebutting, always poking holes, poking, poking, poking — and smacking her across it. The face Jane would make, cradling her bratty cheek, now reddening in an ugly splotchy red, eyes open in offended shock. The way she would yell at Lily, frowning, maybe poke a finger into Lily's chest repeatedly. Arguing, arguing, so skilled, arguing, arguing.
But she is Lily, start student, a pleasure to have in class, and although she is cocky, and can be a real bitch with a foul mouth, sometimes even a little roughhousing and tomboy-ish under her carefully styled blonde curls, her big chest in low-cut shirts and her array of pretty flashy skirts, she cannot just… hit someone. So she endures. But in her mind, there's always this flash of Jane, so pretty, so perfect, prim and proper in her buttoned up dress shirts and much more appropriately length skirts, she probably irons them, fuck, even more of a pleasure to have in class, but this time with a red handprint on her cheek.
It's a recurring fantasy these days, months even, that she has spent with Jane perpetually in her orbit ever since they ended up in all the same seminars this semester. Always Jane. At every corner. Jane, Jane, Jane, pretty Jane, and yes, maybe Lily only has to blame herself considering she took some of these courses precisely because Jane would be there. Her one and only match, the one that makes her days less boring, makes her perform her best. She goes out of a classroom with Jane ten times the better theorist than she would be after a semester at another, Jane-less school.
And yes, okay, it's not just about the self-improvement, but Lily doesn't want to talk about that right now because she is already shifting in her seat, clenching her thighs together. She hit the last girl she fucked, less hard than she would Jane, but that is still who she pictured. The girl had looked up at her, a little teary, whining, her features morphing into Jane, Jane, Jane, and suddenly Lily only needed that girl's face between her thighs for a bare minute before she came.
Prissy fucking brilliant Jane Hollander, who Lily wants to fuck as much as she wants to best her for the number one spot in this year's student ranking. There. She said it.
"—Lily?"
She snaps her head up, only catching the tail end of the professor's sentence.
"Yes, that's fine. We will just coordinate the meetings between us," Jane says, nodding dutifully around her grammatically perfect stupid suck-up sentence. Her eyes flicker over to Lily, burning into her in a physical ray of heat, adding: "For the project, Lily. The both of us will do it together, Mrs. Yun just said. Were you not listening?" A tiny movement plays at the perfect, supple skin around the corner of her lips, like she's barely restraining a smile. Lily wants to press a finger in there, pull her jaw open and push her pink extra thick dick in her mouth until she chokes, until her eyes water pathetically, until she slaps Lily's thigh in bratty protest and still gets ignored.
"I heard, Jane," she answers, lying straight through her teeth, one hand playing with the hem of her own skirt wishing it was Jane's, teasing. "No need to play teacher's pet." Loser, she mouths exaggeratedly, to top it off.
An incredulous look on Jane's face, then, "this is not— I can—" she's choking on her words, looking like shes about to stomp her feet a little. Lily chuckles, radiating her winning big smile all over Jane's face. Drowning her face in it. Really pushing her in it, grinding her face into it. Et cetera.
The seminar is over soon, not much to be said about Being and Time besides pretending you understand it and no one being able to refute you. Jane is still packing her stuff when Lily leans over her, a strong grip on her shoulder.
"Come home with me?" She whispers into Jane's ear, tongue just shy of meeting Jane's prettily decorated earlobes. Hearts and little stars and shit.
"Come home with you? You—" Jane whisper-yells, her pretty head whipping around. Half the people turn towards her in response, halting their packing, intrigued. She flushes. Lily, really tasting the words as she lays them out on her tongue with relish, gasps cutely as she lays a hand on her own chest in mock shock.
"The library, Jane, oh my god! I— what were you thinking, oh my god!" She really plays up the dramatics, but shes Lily Rozanova, so it just looks natural on her. Jane balls her hands into fists, fuming. Then she gathers all her stuff at once into a messy pile and speeds out of the room.
Lily follows her, laughing, catching up to her with little difficulty given that she's wearing flats while Jane hobbles around in block-heeled Mary Jane's. Sensing that Jane will most likely genuinely hit her if she keeps talking, she chooses self-preservation temporarily, a one-sided truce, and keeps quiet until they both settle in a closed study room in the library. It's all glass, but still provides an illusion of privacy. As she tries to sit down, Jane shoulders her out of the way.
"I don't like to sit with my back to the door," she mumbles, setting up with her back towards the one glass wall with no people passing by, thanks to a locked off area. Little spoiled princess.
Lily settles into her work, pausing here and there to fluff her hair, check her little pocket mirror, reapply lipstick. It's not for Jane, really, it's just that Lily has standards for how she looks, okay. She has a reputation to keep up, bisexual terminator, as Sveta calls her. God, Sveta should be here right now to hit Lily on the head and get her to stop imagining Jane naked in her bed, legs pressed to her chest, and... she visualizes Sveta hitting the back of her head, and it kind of helps.
Time passes with minimal bickering because Jane is weirdly unreceptive to Lily's pocking and prodding. Like she has better things to do suddenly. Lily would so pout, actually, but decides that would be beneath her.
She's three slides into her part of the presentation, when her strictly scheduled staring-at-Jane time gains unexpected rewards: reflected in the glass wall behind Jane, full screen, is… tentacles? For a few long moments, she fights for her entire goddamn life to keep a straight face. If Jane senses something is off, Lily will never learn more about this. She needs to know everything. She squints, subtly, remembering to keep typing key-smashes periodically to keep up the soundscape. Yup, most definitely many tentacles around and on and… in a singular person. Who doesn't look all too happy about it, given the kicking and fighting from panel to panel as Jane scrolls… down? Is she actively reading?
Jane's face looks entirely neutral, focused, like she is working but—god, this is the best day of Lily's entire life. Her whole world rearranges itself around her, melting and reassembling into a scene of sunshine and rainbows and joyfully jumping dolphins and glitter and Zara Larsson singing Midnight Sun. Pretty, prissy, stuck up Jane is a fucking pervert. Which is fantastic material for two of her major interests: terrorizing Jane, and fucking Jane.
Still straight-faced, putting all the practice of handling Jane's constant provocation in class to good use, Lily leans back a little, thinking about her next steps. She keeps her eyes on the glass, watching as Jane flies through the pages, well-practiced. Then, a change: Jane copies the browser link, and… opens Excel?
It's impossible to make out the details, but it must be a truly ginormous spreadsheet by how long it takes to fully load, it's definitely color coded, and Jane scrolls for a good minute seemingly debating something before she pastes the link and fills out all the cells in the corresponding row. Her face, like Lily's, still betrays nothing. There's tags. Also color coded. And so many columns Lily is genuinely starting to get dizzy. She needs her hands on this sheet now, to confirm her suspicions: Jane Hollander is collecting nasty porn. Reads it on school grounds, during group work, and files it in her freaky… filing system.
Lily scrolls and types aimlessly on her computer while she thinks. For a bit, Jane moves back to her actual work. Lily relaxes a bit. She can drag this out. Take her time. Collect more bits and pieces, really build a case. Her muscles, previously ready to pounce loosen, but then: a flicker in the glass reflection, and there's a different document, with a reference picture laid over. First, Lily notices the outlines of two girls, in school uniforms, a faceless blonde head with curls holding onto the hips of a dark haired girl, who is bent over obediently. The spitting image of Lily and herself, fucking.
Lily sinks her teeth into her lower lip, hiding a feral grin. Oh, she is going to eat this girl up. Pretty little Jane. She kicks out a foot under the table, hitting Jane in the shin, startling her .
"Watcha doin'," she hums, grin splitting her lower face like a predator's maw.
"Working. Unlike you," Jane snaps, lifting her chin towards Lily disparagingly. She looks bitchy. Lily is so wet, shifting her thighs subtly.
"You're not working, Jane."
Her grin grows wider as she points for Jane to turn around to the reflection of her screen in the glass behind her. It's gorgeous to watch the volcanic eruption of Jane Hollander, humiliated, and Lily is out of her chair and behind Jane faster than she can rationally process. She catches both of Jane's hands in one of hers, wrestling. Lucky for her, Jane focuses her precious seconds of free hands on covering the center of the screen, leaving Lily free to move the mouse to re-open the Excel tab.
In her arms is a kicking and fighting Jane, struggling against the now two arms wrapped around her like a human straitjacket. Cornered, she opts to bite into Lily's bicep which, probably not intended but still effective, makes her knees buckle. To have Jane Hollander's mouth on her, even through the layer of her long-sleeve, the hot humid breath, the hint of tongue… but Lily would not be where she is right now, academically, if she was weak-willed.
Undeterred she holds Jane close and down, focusing on the treasure in front of her. It's too much to take in all of it, but every little piece she gathers is glorious. It really is a collection of things, sorted alphabetically, categorized by media format (manga, video homemade, art, nudes, fanfiction, Ilya reads) and, oh, the tags, this is better than her last birthday where she woke up in between three girls and two guys, all naked— tentacle, double penetration, triple penetration, piss, chikan, cnc, lesbian, gay, lesbian, lesbian, lesbian. Before she gets much further, Jane manages to shut the laptop in Lily's face and uses the opening of Lily trying to interfere to slip out of her grip and make a wild dash out of their study room.
Between fight or flight, Lily always assumed Jane was more of a fight kind of girl. Interesting.
She takes her time following Jane. All her things are still in the study room, so there is only one place a flighty little thing could possibly run off to.
There is little resistance in the aged bathroom door, so it swings open with a startling bang. Jane, who is bent over the sink, jumps like a frightened prey animal. On a well-practiced meditative outbreath, thanks CBT, she walks over to Jane who is watching her cautiously in the mirror.
"So," Lily pops her hip against the tiled bathroom counter, scanning Jane up and down. She's pretty as always in her preppy gray and white outfits, ironed dress shirt, ironed pleated skirt, hell, probably ironed socks in her Mary Jane's the way they sit sleek just over her ankles. The way she's bent over the sink makes her bangs hang slightly away from her face, the rare view of her naked forehead feeling… almost dirty. Being a dedicated rival, Lily spends all of her time with Jane saving such little crumbs, little secrets. Intelligence, she tells herself.
The stare she sends through the mirror would kill Lily if she were a lesser girl. Instead she just grins, "my pretty Jane, a little pervert." She sighs, playfully, as if disappointed gravely, but it comes out as delighted as she feels.
Jane's fists clench on the counter.
"Nice spreadsheet," she continues, "can you filter for.. what was it?Piss? Computah, show me girls pissing on girls," Lily giggles, obnoxious on purpose. "That seems to be your preference, right? Girls? Or is it just me? Or do you not discriminate, just a pervert eating everything up?"
With every word Jane visibly gets closer to hitting her. Lily kind of wishes she would. The sting of Jane's hand on her cheek, so exciting, the fight in her eyes, the way she could wrestle power back, give as good as she got by hitting Jane harder, putting her on her knees, all while there is an echo of Jane's slap still on her own cheek. Anyways.
"Stop it," Jane grits out, her hands digging into the dirty tiles covered in splashes of god-knows-what.
Lily laughs, joyful. "Yes, let me change topic. Better topic. So you want me to fuck you, huh?" When Jane only turns redder in response, she continues, gleefully. "Is this why you fight me so much in class? Are you trying to piss me off so I bend you over the table, hold you down and give you what you want?"
Suddenly, it all clicks into place.
"Wait! Was all this you… flirting?" Lily covers her mouth to stifle her laughter, gasping, giggling. "It is! It so is!"
"Shut the fuck up, Lily!" Jane snaps, looking down at the sink again, pressing her eyes shut.
"Oh she can swear now! Jane, Jane…" almost skipping, she closes in on Jane who seems to will her away with the sheer power of her mind. She looks like Lily when she squeezes her eyes shut in a bus, willing a yelling little kid to explode. She's so cute, and they might be made for one another. Lily leans in behind Jane, chest to back, her arms coming to prop herself up on the counter to cage Jane in. She smells intoxicating, like clean laundry, honey shampoo, and, frankly, wetness. Standing here now, it's all so easy, so clear, that this is where she belongs.
"Look at me," Lily says, mouth edging very close to Jane's hair, right where here ear must be. Covered like a secret, like something vulnerable.
"No," Jane says. She shakes her head like Lily is a fly that could be deterred from bothering her. She clearly has never met Lily.
"Yes," Lily coaxes, nuzzling her face into Jane's hair-covered cheek. She tucks some strands of hair behind Jane's ear, stripping it of its defenses, placing a gentle bite onto the skin there. "Look at me or I won't touch you."
Jane freezes under her. She can sense it with the way all the ends of Jane's body are touching the ends of hers: Jane's pinky finger grazing her thumb, Jane's shoulder just atoms away from her clavicle, Jane's ass so close to her pussy. Moving without triggering Lily's awareness would require Jane to play a perfect game of operation. Which is how it always should be, Lily thinks, now that she knows. Now that there is clarity. Jane should always be attached to her, observed, witnessed, available to be felt.
"Change of plans," Lily mumbles and pushes a hand between Jane's shoulder blades, hard, bending her fully over the counter and keeping her there. There is no struggle. None at all, just a pathetic little whimper, and Jane's ass pushing back against her with an aborted thrust. Lily is going to eat her whole, in one big bite. There will be nothing left of Jane when she is done with her. When she does nothing, waiting Jane out, there's a kick to her shin which is less of a fight and more of a cat's lovingly clawed bid for attention and play.
It dawns on her then, a sort of divine premonition, that she will never be done with Jane. That this is it. She buries her face in the back of Jane's head, then her neck.
"Just like you imagined, yes?" She keeps a hand on Jane's back, the other on her hip, and starts pressing herself rhythmically against Jane's ass, grinding like she would if she had her dick in her. Jane's hands adorably scrabble for something to grip on the counter, moaning softly. "Don't even need my cock with how good your imagination is. Is it all porn up there?" She pats softly on the back of Jane's head, the motion shaking the rest of her hair loose and off of her back. Before she is conscious of the impulse, Lily unclips the claw clip from her own head, gathers Jane's hair in one hand and carefully clips it to the back of her head. It was hanging in the sink. Just common courtesy, really. Really!
Jane seems stunned, looking wide-eyed over her shoulder with surprise and an adorably uneven hairdo. Lily's heart hammers in her chest.Fuck. Pivot. Pivot.
"Remember when you walked in on me and Jen? I thought you were a homophobe, little stuck up catholic Jane, but you were just turned on, no?" she distracts. Before Jane can open her mouth, Lily shushes her, the way you would shush a crying little child with a scraped knee. The hand on Jane's hip wanders between her thighs, petting over her panties and yes— so wet. Sooooooo wet. There's a vision coming to her of holding Jane by her neck like a disobedient kitten, pushing her down to make her lick her own wetness off of Lily's thigh after she finishes getting off on it. God.
"So desperate for it," she mutters, distracted by the phantom feeling of Jane rubbing herself all over her thigh.
"I'm not fucking —"
"I don’t give a fuck, Jane, listen how wet you are. I bet you’re thinking about me pushing one of these giant tentacle dildos into you right now, no? The double ones? Really make you take it? I bet you can’t do it yourself at all. That you've been trying to get it right ever since you walked in on me fucking another girl with my strap. But it never feels quite right, does it? So you’re bent over here whining, pretending you're not dying for it, but you’re just upset I’m not fucking you in both holes right now."
Jane's mouth hangs open before she furrows her brows into the exact face she makes before she starts arguing for real and pissing Lily the fuck off in an eight a.m. seminar.
"No talking required from you, pretty Jane. Little liar," Lily mutters as she presses her thumb onto the clothes top of Jane's clit, rubbing in little waves while she speeds up her grinding into Jane's ass. She just whimpers in response, defeated, burying her face in her arms, hips twitching down to hump against Lily's fingers.
"Yes, just like that. Only noises from you," Lily coos, pressing a kiss to the back of Jane's head, next to her claw clip. Her claw clip. On Jane. She pictures, just for a split second, how Jane would look in her clothes, her slutty belt-like mini skirts, but also her sleep shirts, pajama pants, and oh, no, bad, so bad.
Refocusing, she watches the folds of Jane's remarkably school-appropriate skirt being slowly rucked up her fat ass with every push of her hips. She grinds harder then, pulling Jane back against her by the hips roughly.
"This how you wanted it?" she whispers.
"No, no, want your cock," Jane whines, making Lily snap up her eyes to watch Jane's face, drowned in blush and a little sweat. There's a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. She's so sweet, so good, how could Lily not have known? Her rival, her most intimate enemy, the person she knows like the back of her hand, not because of much time spent together, but because they are equals, both brilliant, hungry, excellent, and she knows all of Jane's moves, her evasions, her plays for the win, before she even makes them.
Lily, most of all, is powerless to deny Jane when she's being so sweet and honest.
"Surprising you get any work done, pretty Jane. Maybe you shouldn't anymore. Maybe you don't have to try so hard now that you have my attention. Can just focus on this," that last word she emphasizes with a particularly strong thrust into Jane's ass, knocking her hipbones into the bathroom counter harshly.
Lily moves a little to Jane's left, pushing herself roughly against the bones under Jane's soft hips, digging them right up against her clit, humping in what she can only thinly deny is 'desperate'. Lily Rozanova, dom top and player and lady-killer of all time, who makes men cry and kiss her feet two times a week, has never in her life been desperate. She moves one hand to Jane's lower back, keeping her in check, and pushes two of her other fingers into Jane's sopping wet pussy, her thumb rest over her asshole through her panties, a vague threat.
Jane, surprisingly, makes no sound. Instead, one of her feet kicks up in what must be compensation for keeping the moan in, hitting Lily in the back of the thigh with a truly vicious block heel. Lily forces the moan out of her nonetheless with a mean, whole-hearted slap to the lower part of her now uncovered ass cheek.
"Baby, in the past five minutes, have you wasted a single thought on the fact that anyone could walk in on us?" Jane twitches under her when she pushes her fingertips into her g-spot again and again, thumb petting patternless over her asshole with the movements. "Why start now? Be good. Let me hear."
The moaning starts gradually, like Jane has to consciously suppress her self-control. Lily wonders if she is aware she could just not obey her. That she could keep quiet. But the thought that Lily's word is not law doesn't even occur to her now, all bent over the sink, held down, three fingers in her pussy. A perfect submissive, her pretty Jane. Lily can feel the phantom sensation of her dick twitching. She needs to wrap this up and get Jane home, in her house, where she can make her pick a strap size and then fuck her with a bigger one regardless. Needs to see Jane kneeling in her ruffled clothes, hair held securely by Lily's claw clip, head held securely in Lily's grip as she pushes her mouth down on her strap.
She wants to do all of it right here, pushing Jane down and fucking her face, coming all over it, until Jane is covered in slick and smelling like her on the way home. She wants to lift Jane onto the counter, hold her hips firm and eat her out, meanly, no tenderness in the way she would suck at her clit immediately, not letting go until Jane would beg and kick and shove her face away after two orgasms, painful ones, maybe three. But wrong place, wrong time would mean she would have to do it halfway, do it quiet, keep Jane quiet, be slightly on edge about hearing steps coming towards them. She wants to get lost in Jane, instead. Wants to fuck her while she makes her read the entirety of her spreadsheet, making her explain, making her embarrassed. Finding out all the dirty little details, making a mental pile of do with Jane and laugh at Jane about.
With full, mindful enjoyment of Jane's clenching and whining, she pulls her fingers out.
"You can whine more at my place," she giggles, draping herself over Jane's back, one hand grabbing and kneading Jane's tit. Wow. That top needed to come off days ago. They need to get out of here so fast, actually. Jane needs to be fully naked at her place, covering herself up in played-up embarrassment as Lily gropes her all over. For now, she pushes her drenched fingers in Jane's mouth, who sucks them clean dutifully.
"Little slut, I could make you eat me out right here, hm?" She pushes her fingers farther to the back of Jane's throat, who just gags while looking very pathetic and obedient. So good. "But not now, pretty girl."
Looking at Jane, she is really so close to abandoning the plan. Her eyes are only half open, completely gone from just the little bending and touching. She looks like she would do anything for Lily right now. God.
She bends down and over at an awkward angle to capture Jane's lips around and over her own fingers, presses them together desperately, licking against Jane's lips, around her own fingers that now feel alien to her, like they are a part of Jane's body rather than her own now that they are inside of Jane.
Little claws come to scratch at her forearm and Lily takes the hint, pulls her fingers out of Jane's mouth and kisses her properly, slotting their bodies against each other, entangled in a real lovers' kiss. It's magnificent, magical, a kiss that could bring her to her knees with the way liquid mercury travels down her throat, her solar plexus, into her stomach in a feeling of nausea and fireworks alike. Nausea at the magnitude of what this is, fireworks at the elation of Jane, Jane, Jane, in her arms, finally
Humping movements against her thigh pull her back into awareness, noticing Jane's half-lidded yet pleading eyes, desperate, her spread legs around Lily's bare thigh, the warmth of her pussy almost undiluted through her irreversibly ruined panties right against the skin.
Jane's mouth opens and closes pointlessly, lost. Lily understands. Always does.
"It's okay, you can, you can," she whispers, kissing pure adoration into Jane's supple cheeks. Her hands come to Jane's hips, not to help, but to feel her shaking, trying so hard to get herself off. Feeling the hurry, the fear in her movements that this could be taken away from her at any moment, like a starving street dog being offered a piece of steak and wolfing it down in one painful gulp. "You don't have to wait, baby, you'll never have to wait, you can always feel good, yeah? Can always get off on me. Always use me," Lily reassures her, words even surprising herself with the relative submissiveness of them, but it's true, and she needs her to know. She'd give her anything. Let her take anything from her.
Single-minded, she pushes her thigh further up, tensing the muscles, pushing Jane harder against the counter to grant her more leverage. Lily, Lily, she hears, but might be hallucinating it. Nose to nose she watches Jane happen to her, in an irreversible release of entropy in a previously ordered system. She holds Jane through it, through the whines and the moans, the shaking, the muscle twitches as she slumps boneless against Lily, some deep trust already within her that Lily will catch her and keep her safe.
It takes approximately thirty-six kisses placed gently on Jane's face and the top of her head, in an unpredictable pattern only following Lily's fancy, for Jane to resurface. When they disentangle, Lily takes one of Jane's hands to drag through the wetness on her thigh and holds it up for Jane to lick. In small ways, dreams really do come true quickly. In another life, she would make Jane kneel and lick it off. She tells her so, grinning, high and loose-lipped off of endorphins.
Jane looks up at Lily, licking her lips, finished with her task, eyes clearer now but still burning through her. "Let's go," she says, nails digging threateningly under the bone caps of Lily's shoulders. "At least if you won't let me make you come here."
Lily wrinkles her nose playfully: "I don't want to get off in a public bathroom, Jane, I'm not that desperate."
Jane hisses and steps forward to crush her block heel onto Lily's toes. "Takes two," she mumbles then, lamely. If Jane Hollander can be shut up and domesticated via sex, Lily is about to have a terribly peaceful life. How horrible! Secretly, she hopes this is just a first-time effect. Jane Hollander should always be riled up like a cat that has been chasing a flighty laser pointer for the better part of an hour, ready to shred her claws through even the most precious furniture.
"Weak ass comeback," Lily teases, pressing a kiss to Jane's brow bone. She reaches for Jane's hand but halts halfway there, unsure whether… well, if this is. A hand-holding kind of relationship. Were they already at the hand-holding stage? Are her hands clammy? Would Jane notice and think her a loser?
"Weak ass game," Jane giggles, grinning about the payback handed to her on a silver platter, and grabbing Lily's hand for her. "Fingers that were in my pussy can hold my hand, don't you think?"
Lily laughs, raises their intertwined fingers to her mouth to kiss them, and starts thinking about which position she wants to put her Jane in first. If she starts skipping her steps a little while thinking, that is no one's business but her own, and maybe Jane's, who stifles a laugh and just holds on tighter.