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Jade's arms are around her, firm body pressed hard against Kit's back, and Kit may be overheated and overwhelmed but she wouldn't pull away for the world.
It’s their favorite dive club turned monthly concert venue, big enough to feel anonymous in that sweeping, joyous, drunk way that keeps Kit from caring who’s watching, yet still small enough that it doesn’t make Jade's skin prickle with discomfort.
They're both swaying to the music, which has gone heavy and bassy as the night extends, long instrumental solos that make Kit's mind wander and her focus drift to the way Jade's fingers slip under the hem of her shirt, the way Jade's hips grind against her a little when the guitars shriek. Kit’s body feels loose in Jade’s hold, like she can let every tension drop and still have perfect trust in Jade’s arms to keep her upright and held. The wash of music over the place is so loud and so dense that it feels like some sparking current that she’s floating in.
It's dark, flashes of red and blue light streaming across the crowd and stage at irregular intervals, making swirling beams through the artificial fog that's been pouring off stage all evening, making the place smell like ozone, the air sharp against Kit's tongue. The swirling patterns of the smoke are hypnotic, but there's nothing more arresting than when the light catches the skin of Jade's arms, illuminating the way her fingers clench and tighten against Kit, just short of digging into her in a way that would make Kit whimper. Kit closes her eyes, leans her head back against Jade's chest, soaks in the touch and the sound, the heat and the feeling.
She moans when she feels Jade's lips at her neck, kissing and licking up the lines of sweat there. Kit pushes back harder against her, rolls her neck to give Jade space to do her perfect work. The bass line thunders, and Kit can feel it all through her body, shuddering in time between her legs and then Jade's hand is sliding across her stomach, slipping just down the edge of her jeans and Kit gasps.
It's dark and crowded and the music is heavy and Jade's lips and hands against her are heavier still. Kit's whole body feels like a shimmery heatwave as Jade's hands keep sliding down, slipping through curls and then further, pressing at her clit, and then further, running through wetness brought on by a bass line Kit can't shake and a girl she never wants to, further until the tips of Jade's fingers are inside her and oh, she doesn't know the name of this song but she's going to remember it forever.
Kit makes a mewling sound that's drowned out by the drums, but she can tell that Jade still hears her by the way her teeth scrape against Kit's neck in a way that makes her jolt. Jade’s lips curl into a smug smile pressed into Kit’s skin. Jade's other hand slides up Kit's shirt, strokes her belly, her palm practically burning Kit. The hint of Jade's fingers inside her is making Kit clench desperately, wanting more, wanting everything that Jade is so good at giving her.
The crowd is jumping around them, the music building, the wooden floor beneath them shuddering like a ship as a hundred feet stomp down in time. It makes Kit even dizzier, but Jade still has her, would never let her slip away.
Kit's hand comes up to grab at the back of Jade's neck, yanking at the curls there, pulling Jade's mouth harder against her throat, knowing that there will be a mark on her neck for them both to admire the next morning. Kit loves looking up to see Jade’s eyes focused on some bruise or scratch on her skin, transfixed on it like her singular attention could make it ache anew. Kit could swear it almost does.
Jade growls at Kit's movement and the hand on her belly yanks her back, pressing her so tightly against Jade's front she can barely breath around the pressure and the way the crowd seems to eat all the air in the room. There’s a high synth chord ringing through the air that feels like it’s taking Kit’s consciousness to the ceiling with it.
Jade manages to work the tips of her fingers deeper into Kit, and Kit would like to cry, would like to fall to her hands and knees in front of Jade, let her fuck her deep and properly, wouldn't care who knew that she was Jade's plaything, that Jade was her everything. Kit's mouth can never seem to find the right words when Jade is inside her. Just her name and please and more , so those are what slip out of her now, begging and desperate and feeling small in Jade's arms, in a way she craves with no other person. She can’t hear her own words leave her mouth over the clash of music and people but Jade’s mouth is still at her throat, lips deciphering by touch every hum that she pulls from Kit.
She can feel Jade enjoy her words, the way her hand tightens against her stomach, the teeth at her neck growing sharper, the fingers inside her pressing, teasing, pushing. Kit's body starts to shiver and roll under Jade's hold, the instinct to move prisoned by Jade's tight grasp on her. It makes the pleasure building up in her that much sharper, brighter, a glinting edge that seems to shoot in brilliant strikes down her spine all the way to where Jade's fingers press into and against her. The music may as well be inside her now, the way the beat, the song, the shriek of it fills her as much as Jade does.
She wants to come. She wants to let Jade push her beyond herself. She wants to give Jade the most intense experiences her body can have, whatever they might be. She wants them all to belong to Jade.
"Please," she says, because her heart always wants to beg, " please Jade can I come?"
She doesn't know if Jade hears her, or if she just knows , but either way the words are whispered into her ear.
"Come for me. I want to feel you."
When she does it's with a head full of stage lights and a gasp as the singer screams as loud as she wishes she could.
This is the moment Kit is always chasing– the moment she can stop thinking, when all that exists is how she feels, how her hips are rocking into Jade's hold, how she's tightening around Jade's fingers, how she rolls her head to the side against Jade's chest, can smell Jade's skin, warm and safe and exciting. It's only seconds that it lasts, these moments where Kit feels completely free, but at least when her thoughts finally do return, her first is always of Jade.
Jade shivers behind her, the lust she feels at Kit's pleasure so palpable that Kit can feel it coming off Jade in the hot breath against her skin, the way her hips jerk against Kit’s.
Kit may have just come, surrounded by a crowd of people, her moans drowned out by music that still rings in her ears, hidden by darkness and Jade's possessive clutch around her, and it may have felt incredible, but what's even better is feeling limp in her lover's grasp, held up by the arm around her stomach, and better yet, the fingers still inside her.
Sometimes that's all Kit longs to be– a place for Jade to enter and hold her and own her.
Jade noses at her cheek, slides her lips up along the shell of her ear, kisses the sweaty hair at her temple.
"You good, sweet girl?" She asks directly in her ear, and Kit grins and stretches, lifts her arms to circle behind Jade's neck, looks up at Jade while still tucked under her chin. Jade's fingers widen their stretch to clutch at all the newly exposed skin from Kit's shirt riding up.
"Very good," Kit answers.
Jade's nails turn sharp on her belly, scratch lines on the tender skin there.
"Come with me," Jade says, and there's a gravel to her voice that makes Kit shiver.
Jade's hold is firm on her as they press their way through the crowd, Jade muscling through dancers and avoiding spilled drinks, Kit dragged breathlessly behind her, her legs still feeling numb, her chest still full of sparks.
It's a small venue, just a handful of single stall washrooms, but that happens to be perfect for Jade’s designs. Jade practically tears open the door, shoves Kit inside, and slams it behind them both.
It's what one might expect– graffitied and stickered, a mirror that's cracked along the edges, cigarette butts crushed flat, and it all smells of smoke. Jade grabs Kit's hair in an immediate and unforgiving fist, shoving her to her knees as she yelps, knees cracking against the tile and she loves how hard Jade wants her, how it makes her vicious.
Kit's hands are pawing at Jade's belt, the button, the zipper, fumbling in her eagerness until Jade smacks her hand away, tightens her hold in her hair and pulls her head back. Jade's eyes are glittering, the stutter of the fluorescent light above casting her half in shadow, a creature of hunger that might just devour her.
Jade keeps tugging at her hair, and Kit starts to whine at the sharp pain of it, sparks of pleasure that threaten to send her mind a half step to the left, where she can watch herself be used by Jade, her body freed from itself by how pain splits her in two. Jade crowds her space, forcing Kit to shuffle back on her knees until her back hits the tiled wall, the angle awkward, forcing her thighs to flex back, but to suffer for Jade is Kit's second favorite purpose– her first to give Jade all her pleasure.
Jade unbuckles her belt, and Kit licks her lips at the satisfying zip sound as Jade draws it free of her belt loops in one quick motion.
"Hands," Jade demands, and Kit offers them up, wrists pressed together like a good girl, Jade's good girl.
Jade is an expert at this, on how to bind and tame Kit, having long ago learned how to ride out Kit's temper, her pushback, and Kit having long ago been taught how pleasurable it could be to just submit for once. Kit hadn’t been a perfect student, not for lack of want, but submission felt like a fight she had with herself more than one she had with Jade. Kit wrestled down that part of herself with the promise that it was only for Jade, a window to softness no one else got to look through, her secret self safe under Jade’s firm hands.
The belt wraps around Kit’s wrists, Jade yanking the buckle tight and then wrapping it again until she can tuck the loose tongue of leather back on itself. Jade is breathing hard now, and Kit always wonders if Jade knows how incredible she looks like this– a war between lust and control on her face, her hands still so certain and steady but her chest heaving, her eyes a bit wild. It's Kit that does that to her and it's impossible not to feel proud, and not to feel compressed and held by the weight of that focus on every part of her.
Jade's fingers finally work open the button of her jeans, slide down the zipper and she pushes into Kit's space, yanking the material down her legs at the same time that her other hand finds Kit's hair again, cracks her head back against the wall. Kit's head spins at the impact, a rush of disorientation and weightlessness that makes her long for Jade to do it again. Instead Jade forces the arch of Kit's neck up so her mouth can meet where Jade wants her.
Kit is happy to do her job, opens her mouth to take in Jade, to lick her open and press herself against Jade's clit, to have Jade's hands force her head to grind harder against her, to be suffocated in the taste and smell of Jade, to serve, to be good, to be good, to please be good.
Jade's nails dig into her scalp, and Kit winces deliriously at the sensation. Kit loves how Jade's want for her is so big that it spills over into needing to hurt her, that it's as much how she shows her obsession as the way Jade gives her pleasure.
"That's right, Kit," Jade growls, pressing her hips harder against her, head rolling back as she enjoys her lover's mouth, "just like that."
Kit redoubles her efforts, bound hands clenching as she presses herself to give more, to lick and taste and suck and make Jade happy with her.
Jade is so wet, and it runs down Kit's chin, and she'd stay here on her knees until they bruised and her spine ached and her mouth went numb.
Jade begins to buck against her, harsh, and it shoves Kit's head mercilessly back against the wall and it hurts and Kit's head statics, and she can imagine herself– red faced, tears running down her cheeks, on her knees in a dirty bathroom, worshiping the one she loves best in the world.
Jade's fingers go unbearably tight in Kit's hair, and Kit whines, open mouthed, still pressed against her and then Jade freezes, a tortured hiss of breath between clenched teeth, a caught stumble forward that strains Kit's neck even more, Jade's arm flung up to the wall to support herself, forehead pressed against the cool tile.
With Jade's head tilted down, Kit can see her face and this is the other moment that Kit chases with her whole being. Jade's face is relaxed in a way it never is otherwise– open and vulnerable and finally letting herself feel something good that's just for her, and it's Kit that's given it to her.
Kit has not been ordered to stop, and so she doesn't, continues to lick and kiss around her aching jaw, around the bright shocks of pain in her neck, around the burn of how hard Jade is pulling her hair, around the dizzy feeling of dropping into another world where the only thing that matters are the sensations Jade is giving her and what Kit can give her in return.
Jade finally pulls away from her mouth with a stuttering gasp, even as Kit leans forward to follow her, only stalled by Jade's firm grip still in her hair.
Jade looks down at her, her eyes half closed and soft and proud. Kit feels more tears in her eyes, and then Jade runs her fingers down her cheek, running through the slick she's left on Kit's chin, and pushes them into Kit's mouth.
Kit sighs and hums against the intrusion, loving any sensation of Jade inside her.
Kit remembers those desperately lonely times before Jade and those wretched in between years apart from her. The surest way to chase away that tarpit feeling of emptiness, to know that Jade is so solidly here and not going anywhere, was for Jade to fill her, in whatever way she wanted. Kit would open up her heart and her body for any part of Jade.
Jade kneels down in front of her, on the same filthy floor she pushed Kit to, slides her fingers free of Kit's mouth, holds her face in her hands and kisses her.
It is the gentlest thing, after all this, after the service and the pain and the desire. Jade's lips are careful, her tongue slow, and her touch on Kit's cheeks is light and careful and loving.
"Thank you, love," Jade whispers against Kit's lips, and the emotion that's welling up in Kit's chest is threatening to drown her, so instead of throwing herself at Jade's feet and groveling on the filthy floor, she smiles and says,
"Any time, babe."
Jade arches an eyebrow at her and her eyes get that glitter again and Kit shivers in anticipation.
"If you're still coherent enough to be flippant, then I don't think we're done here," Jade says.
Jade pulls Kit under her arms to stand as she does, steadying Kit's stumble from the sudden headrush with a chuckle and a fond smile. She pulls at the hem of Kit's shirt until Kit raises her arms, letting the material that's clinging to her from sweat be pulled over her head, Jade making similar short work of her bra before tucking both into the pocket of her jeans. Something about her clothing hanging half out of Jade's pocket makes Kit lick her lips.
Jade's eyes work across Kit, a prickle along her skin following Jade's gaze. Jade leans down, licks her tongue across Kit's belly and then a long stripe up between her breasts, up her throat, and kisses her, tongue salty with sweat and Kit shivers.
Jade presses Kit towards the sink, turns her to face it, arranges her just how she wants. Every touch and adjustment Jade makes to her body makes Kit feel such desperate want in her heart and between her legs that she can't tell whether she wants to scream or cry. Jade takes Kit's arm, places her hand on one side of the sink, steps to the side and does the same with her left hand. She places her palm between Kit's shoulders, applies just enough pressure that Kit knows she should lean down, braced fully against the sink now, Jade tapping her shoes with her own dark boots to get Kit to widen her stance. Jade slides her hands up Kit's back, and Kit is sure Jade can feel the tension of anticipation in her muscles.
Jade turns on the cold water tap, her fingers staying under the flow until Kit can tell it's icy. She cups her hand, water sitting in the well of her palm and offers it to Kit. Kit whines, leans forward to drink, the cold shocking her throat and chest, the intimacy of the act warming her back up. Jade fills her hand twice more before she's satisfied that Kit has had enough, and Kit pants as Jade fills her hand again, drips cold water down her neck and back, cooling fevered skin. She moans at the damp cold of Jade's hands sliding along her hips and stomach, up to palm her breasts and tweak her nipples into aching hardness.
Jade leans further over Kit, her thumb sliding under Kit's chin and lifting her head up. The mirror is smudged but she can see herself. Water drips down her chin, lips still red and bruised from Jade's insistent grinding, her eyes dark, hair flopping across her face.
And Jade .
Poised over her, staring into her eyes through the mirror, that exhilarating mix of hunger and tenderness on her face that makes Kit want to kneel. With Jade behind her, Kit feels both trapped and held.
Jade doesn't break eye contact with her as she wraps her belt over itself in her hand. Kit can see the buckle digging into Jade's palm with how hard she's gripping it, the loop of leather swinging loosely beside her as if it wasn't crackling with potential. Jade narrows her eyes, and Kit knows the silent question, drags her lower lip through her teeth before she gives a tiny nod, trying not to tremble with fear, with anticipation.
The belt moves so quickly that Kit doesn't have time to process it's arc before it's snapped against her back, her body already arching, her fingers straining as her grip on the sink tightens, her mouth open in a keening wail that only the crashing sound of music outside can hope to cover.
Her skin burns and prickles like she's been burned or peeled or whipped with a belt by the love of her life.
She wants it again.
Jade's fingers stroke along what Kit knows must be a brilliant red mark on her back, and Kit twitches at the gentle touch. Jade's eyes flick up to Kit's again in the mirror as she drags a single nail slowly and terribly down the center of the aching wound. Jade looks merciless and powerful and Kit wants her inside her so badly.
There is another clinking of metal as Jade starts to pull the strip of leather through the buckle again, and then the loop is pulled over Kit's head and settled around her neck and Jade pulls it slowly closed until it sits snugly around her throat. Kit swallows hard, feels how the leather restricts even that movement.
With one hand holding the belt, Jade's other hand curls around Kit's own, turning it into a fist that she gently knocks against the sink with a dull sound and a soft sting of Kit's knuckles.
"Knock three times if you need to stop," Jade says.
Kit nods, opens her fist so that their fingers interlace for a moment.
"I love you so much," Jade says, and her voice cracks with the words.
Jade tightens the belt by increments as her other hand traces the line where it digs into Kit's skin, slides down her chest and stomach, feels the hitch of her lungs and belly as her breath gets shorter, travels down to unbutton Kit's jeans and shove them hastily down so Jade's fingers can start working against her clit in movements that seem to match the heartbeat that's beginning to thrum in Kit's ears. Jade's fingers move faster the harder she tugs the belt, the tension of airlessness and pleasure making Kit's body go tight until Jade's grip relaxes and her fingers slow, giving Kit her breathe back and stealing away the knife's edge of climax she was on. Jade does this over and over again, Kit dizzy with it, lost in what Jade is putting her through, desperate for more and also wishing this would never stop.
The belt tightens, and Kit's pleasure is just out of reach.
"You ready for me inside you, baby?" Jade asks, an edge of desperation to her words Kit can just make out under her control.
Kit nods, mouths the word yes with breath she doesn't have.
The belt loosens as Jade uses her forearm to push Kit down lower. She brings her other hand behind Kit, slides it between her thighs and then presses two fingers deep inside Kit with a single steady push.
Just for a second, Kit isn't in that bathroom. She feels hotel sheets and the sort of dead air that can only be found in a place cleaned within an inch of its life, and she tenses.
"Are you with me, Kit?"
The enamel of the sink is cold and smooth under her hands, she can hear the muted rumble of the music from outside the door, can smell the lingering cigarette smoke.
She can feel Jade's fingers inside her. It's Jade , no one else.
Jade leans down, kisses the center of her back so soft that Kit shivers. She belongs to Jade. Only Jade holds her there, only Jade sinks inside her until Kit can't take any more, only Jade keeps her held open and filled and satisfied. Everything she is belongs to Jade and there's nothing that makes Kit feel safer than that.
"Yes," Kit says, tightening herself around Jade's fingers, "always want you in me."
Jade gives a longing sort of groan at Kit's movement, and suddenly the belt is pulled taut again as Jade's fingers begin to drag out of her and then shove back inside.
Kit can't help but close her eyes and let herself fall into every sensation. Her mouth open and panting, the tightness around her neck and ache in her chest, the coiling feeling in her stomach, the weakness in her arms. She can feel Jade laying across her now, her cheek resting against Kit's shoulder blade as she thrusts her fingers inside her, the fullness and almost unbearable pressure as Kit's filled.
Kit paws at the belt around her throat, pulls it so she has just enough space to beg.
"Can I– Jade can I, please?"
Jade pushes another finger into Kit and she'd yell if her grip hadn't suddenly failed and the belt stolen the sound away.
"Yes, Kit," Jade growls, "you're going to come for me."
Kit wants to come, feels desperate for it now, wants to please Jade, but it's just out of reach. The belt feels like a leash holding Kit painfully back from grasping it even as it drags her towards it, but then the belt loosens fractionally and she gasps in a deep breathe and her head spins and Jade curls her fingers hard and Kit is coming with a sharp cry and a pleasure that makes her want to curl up as it heaves through her.
In the final moments of her climax, when the pleasure is ember low and glowing, Kit's eyes flicker open and catch on Jade's face. Jade is staring down at her, a rapturous and tender look to her expression that makes Kit's insides spark again before the fire finally passes through her.
Kit lays panting against the sink, feeling Jade's own hard breathing against her back, the weight against her making her feel pleasantly crushed. Jade's fingers start to slide out of her, and Kit tightens hard around them, stealing as much pleasure from their withdrawal as she can and whining when Jade finally pulls free.
Careful hands remove the belt from her neck and Kit leans into the touch, feels how there is an ache there that means a bruise in her future. Jade's thumbs presses against it and Kit can't help but give a broken whimper at the hurt.
Jade's hand jerks away, and Kit's focus sharpens. Jade's weight lifts off her and Kit hears her take a step back. Kit gathers herself enough to stand straight with the sink's support and turn to face Jade.
Jade is panting, which is normal, but there's a faraway look in her eyes, which is not– Jade is always present with her and for her. The belt in Jade's grip clinks, because her hand is shaking, and some spasm of muscle has her usually steadfast fingers rebelling and the belt clatters to the floor with an echoing jingle.
Kit has never done subtlety in her life, and she can't now, so she yanks Jade clumsily to her, crushing them together.
"I love you. I love everything you do to me. I love how you take care of me," Kit speaks in a torrent against Jade's neck, and Jade tremors. Kit has never been good about considering her words, but she doesn't want to right now, knows that everything true and from her heart is inches from the surface, "You make me feel so good. You make me so happy."
Kit shifts enough that she can look at Jade's face, trying to track the path of emotions there, and Jade finally looks present, but still pained, her eyes fixed on Kit's neck.
Kit remembers the first time Jade had struck her with her own hands, without the distance afforded by a switch or a tool, just Jade's own skin against hers. It had thrilled Kit but sent Jade into such a tailspin that Kit had needed to shove her into the passenger seat of the car and drive– something Jade almost never let her do– to the nearest wooded park so Jade could sit under a tree with her hands dug into the loose earth.
Kit had paced under her own tree, far enough away to give Jade solitude, close enough that she could still hear her call out. Kit knew Jade needed space to sift through her own emotions as much as Kit needed Jade to hold her tight through her own.
When Jade finally did stand, wiping dirt off her hands with a grimace, Kit practically sprinted over to her, unable to handle the distance any longer.
Kit had reached out tentatively to take Jade's hand, the same one she'd hit her with, and placed it soft against her own cheek.
"Sometimes I can't stand what I want to do to you," Jade said, stroking her thumb across Kit's skin, leaving a line of dirt on her pale skin, clear as a bruise.
When Jade spoke about her past, she would tell it once, and then never again. Kit had heard the stories of how Jade grew up, before Ballantine, before a real home. Cruel things had happened to Jade– she had been hurt. Kit knew that hurt, that anger, was tangled up in this thing between them, but what did it matter? Kit wanted all of Jade.
"You are everything I've wanted since before I knew you," Kit said.
There was a wildness and sadness in Kit that had only begun to settle with the arrival of Jade in her life. And if Kit's own pain was just as much a part of why she craved Jade's control over her, was desperate for both pleasure and pain, that didn't matter to Kit either. They fit together exactly as they were meant to.
Jade had latched onto Kit then, held her so crushingly tight it was hard to breath, and if Kit noticed the hitching sounds of breath and stuttered movement of Jade's chest against hers she'd carry that knowledge gently in her heart and to her grave.
There are no trees in this place that Kit can hide Jade under, no earth she can press beneath her hands, but Kit pulls them both to the floor and grabs Jade's wrists anyway, places them to the cold solidness of the tile beneath them, hopes that it is enough.
Kit pulls back, aching at the distance but wanting to let Jade breath free. She can't help but place her hands on either side of Jade's face though, and speak directly into her watery brown eyes, "I couldn't do anything like this without you. You're the greatest adventure I'll ever have."
Jade takes a deep breath, holds it for four counts and lets it go. Kit smiles– her lover is always following the rules, even to her very breath.
Kit sees Jade's eyes flick down to her smile, and an answering one starts to tug at the corner of Jade's mouth.
"I love you," Kit says, those words always seeming to tumble out of her without any kind of grace, but Jade has never seemed to mind.
"Come here to me," Jade says, voice rough, but calm, and Kit does.
Kit isn't sure who is holding who, only that her knees ache and her back is cold without her shirt and Jade's fingers are digging into the place where the belt swung against her skin, and Jade is right here in her arms, exactly where she should be. Kit feels so good , so tremendously lucky , and so safe , because somehow they've managed to turn all their fracture lines into places they can pour their love into.