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˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Hearthstone Ranch has stood mighty and tall for as long as you’ve known. It’s had its ups and downs, with what the neighboring town of Piltover does, but all in all, Zaun thrives through the smothering summers and harsh winters that render some crops brown.
The fence that divides your land from Violet Spur’s, however? Cattle have dropped like flies, the last you heard. It can’t be easy, running a ranch on your own with only one arm and workers who don’t live up to expectations. This particular summer has been rougher than most, and though your uncle has a good water supply, Sevika’s own land hasn’t been so lucky.
There’s always been some sort of tension between the two of you, which is strange, considering she’s twenty years your senior. But from barrel races to nights in taverns to wind down, your gazes always seem to meet. Once, never twice. An unspoken, mutual rivalry that even Vander is aware of.
Even so, he’s recently hired Sevika as a new ranch hand. Why? Other workers were simply not as dedicated– nowhere near as loyal to the care that goes into the dirt and the hooves that trample on it. And she needed water to get her land up and running again. You’d argued, and as had Vi, but it was his word that went in the end. She’s been here for a few months now, and the two of you have yet to share a word.
There’s only those five-to-ten-second glances she spares. The kind of glance that makes your knees weak, and once made your grip on your utensils falter mid-supper.
Dirt crackles underneath your steed’s hooves as it comes to a sliding stop within the arena. Sunlight beats down on your sweat-clad neck, staining the white blouse on your person with damp spots in too many areas to count. Your breaths are nearly in sync with that of the gelding’s, and you can only hope the fruits of your endeavor haven’t been in vain this time.
“Well?” You prompt, looking over to Vi. She stands on top of one of the rails, holding up a timer in her left hand. At least this time, she’s not doing that little pitying grimace.
“Fourteen seconds,” The woman announces. She huffs, stuffing the timer into the pocket of her jeans before striding over to the fence gate. After pulling it open to have you pass, she gives the animal a few pats on its neck. “I think you have the upcoming competition in the bag.”
“Mhm.” You agree, but only for a fleeting moment. Your only competition? The damn new ranchhand your daddy’s hired, who chose to also join the barrel race this Saturday. And who just so happens to meet your gaze from a distance before she retreats to the barn, a single haybale held up over a broad shoulder. “Unless she beats me.”
“Please,” Your cousin scoffs, eyes rolling as they often do. “That wanna-be cowboy ain’t got nothing on you.”
“Wanna-be? Vi,” You deadpan. Sevika is far from some… wanna be anything, unfortunately. “She hasn’t gotten beaten in ages.”
You’ve heard things about her– whispers that carry themselves like the dust the wind picks up to take to another land. Sevika owns the ranch neighboring your own, but the only interactions the two of you have ever had have been through glares under hat rims.
Or, well, glares from you.
She doesn’t ever bother sparing you an extra glance in the rodeos. It’s infuriating how she carries herself with so much poise and silent strength on the saddle. Sevika doesn’t speak. Hell, she doesn’t even stick around to be congratulated on her wins and opts to go to the town’s tavern.
But on the rare occasions that you and Sevika have made eye contact amidst a competition, she’s smirked twice. Once, right after you’d finished your round and came in second after her. No words spoken, but the chuckle that vibrated deep within that broad chest of hers had made your fingers tighten on the reins. Another, when you would’ve won had it not been for a barrel you’d made the clumsy move of tipping to the ground.
The Lord would strike you down for lying straight through your teeth if you went ahead and said she wasn’t attractive.
And now she’s working for you. Your uncle, technically, but she’s in your land. Staying in the guest bedroom that shares a wall with yours. Eating the dinners you prepare, and making you hope for a slight sparkle in her eyes from the taste. But it never comes.
“That old stud won’t beat you,” Vi digresses. Ever since Sevika came into the picture, she’s always looking for an opening to insult her. “Now go and put this one to rest.”
You wave her off, loosening the girth of the saddle to let the animal’s belly loosen a bit more. His pinto coat is in the same state as your skin– sweaty and warm from the heat. Taking hold of the reins, you lead Strider into the barn and let him stand in the middle as you untack him. He stomps a hoof against the concrete, demanding a treat, but what catches your attention is a grunt from the hayloft.
Glancing up, you’re met with the – mouthwatering – sight of Sevika. The flannel around her frame strains against the bulk of her muscles, one sleeve tied into a knot before the stump of her left side. Those broad, sharp hips buck forward as she nudges a haybale forward to tuck it against the others. She breathes, pushing back the silky, sweaty bangs that curtain the sides of her face back and away.
Then, glances down.
Ugh, fuck.
“You need help untacking, or what?” There’s that timbre to her voice– deep, throat a bit dry from a lack of water, yet so very smooth and naturally sultry. Soft, almost.
“What? No,” You scoff. You were born and bred on a ranch, and as much as you like your cotton blouses and jeans embroidered with hearts on the back pockets, you’re not one to shy away from the dirty work handling a horse is. And no matter how many times dirt ends up staining your pretty clothes, you won’t change it. “I can do something as simple as untacking my horse myself.”
You hear that chuckle again. Short, but audible. Like a slip of the tongue Sevika didn’t mean to let out to hide her amusement. And as slightly degrading it comes off as, you feel goosebumps arise over your skin to make the hairs at the back of your neck stand. You steel yourself, however, and take to removing your gloves to toss them onto a surface before turning to your steed again.
“Oh, sorry, darlin’,” Sevika drawls. She climbs down the ladder, a heavy thud marking her descent. Her boots, not nearly as polished as your own, come into your view just as you bend down to pick Strider’s hooves clean. Momentarily, you look up– and oh, what a mistake that is. “Didn’t think you’d want to chip one of those nails.”
Said nails which are almond-shaped and with a white French tip and pearlescent shimmer.
Straightening your back, you meet Sevika’s gaze properly. The string of her cowboy hat is tied loosely around her bare neck, allowing for the hat to sit at her upper back. Grime stains her cheeks and clothes, and that shirt. It doesn’t do much for covering when she raises her right hand to scratch at her buzzed nape.
Your eyes, curse their own mind, momentarily flicker to her navel. It’s taut, yet smooth and soft-looking save for the patch of hair that begins right underneath her belly button. Was she trying to kill you?
“My nails–” You cough to return your pitch to normal, shaking your head. “– have nothing to do with how well I do my work around here.”
“Right,” Sevika drawls, but she doesn’t sound all too convinced. She lays her gloved hand over your steed’s rump, patting it as she steps closer. Like a dance, you step backwards and steady yourself on one of the poles meant to tie a lead around. “Maybe if you trimmed em’, you could hold onto your reins properly and beat me at my own game for once.”
For once. Oh, she was so fucking smug.
“Please,” In an attempt to ignore how hot your cheeks feel, you look away and fold your arms over your chest. Much like your eyes had strayed, Sevika’s grey gaze follows the movement. The delicate skin of your sternum. The outline of a bra strap underneath. “I’ll win this time. Just you watch.”
And when you turn your head to meet her eyes again, it’s done just in time to watch them flicker up.
Hah.
“Do you always tell yourself that when you stand before a mirror?”
The nerve.
“Are you that lonely that you can only pick fights with people half your age?” It’s a jest, partially, but you catch the slight narrowing of Sevika’s eyes. The tightening of her jaw.
And the outline of her tongue poking against her cheek.
“Tch,” She scoffs, turning her head to give you a side eye. Sevika places the cowboy hat atop her head, obscuring the view of where her gaze goes. “I’m only humoring myself here, girly. You’re the only one who can give me competition.”
A compliment?
“But not quite,” Not a full-hearted, wholesome compliment, then. Sevika looks to her left, a hum passing through her thick lips as she admires the horses within their stalls. She seems to be pondering, and of what, you’re almost certain you know. “You still got a long way to go.”
“Why don’t I race you, then?” You prompt, bringing Sevika’s gaze back to you with your proposition. You take note of the way her brow raises, then furrows in sync with the other. But her lips don’t part to protest, and she doesn’t immediately scoff or turn away. For once, she’s holding a conversation. “To the creek.”
It’s a place that’s still within Hearthstone Ranch’s property, and an area that provides privacy. With miles’ worth of open field, the only others present would be the bugs in the ground and critters in the water, and trees.
Sevika hums, looking off to the side and over her shoulder. It reveals the delicate, bronze and damp skin in all its glory. The sharp line of her jaw and the scars that mar the left side of her face. You’ve always wondered what kind of accident caused such beautiful blemishes and the missing limb.
In a town like this, gossip goes hand-in-hand with the boots everyone wears. From a horseback riding fall to a more gruesome speculation that Sevika was involved in an incident involving a tractor, the whispers have never ceased. But you’ve always longed to know the truth from her lips, no matter the rivalry between you two.
“Your daddy expects me to work.” At last, Sevika answers. She looks back to you, unfolding the undeniable truth like a deck of cards before you. Vander would most certainly not take a worker slacking off kindly, and Sevika? Her pride isn’t too keen on it, either. But–
“I’ll just tell him we saw some caddle wander off,” You suggest. “And that I helped you wrangle them.”
This, Sevika laughs at. She tries – really does – to suppress her humor through pinched brows and tight lips, but the chuckle spills out nonetheless. It’s hearty and full– a sound that echoes within the barn to taunt your ears with the amusement it drips with.
“You,” Sevika says after a breath, tipping her chin down as her lips curl. “wrangling cattle? He wouldn’t believe you, sugar. Those hands of yours have never known callouses, I bet.”
She’s got you there. You’ve always favored wearing gloves in order to avoid turning your palms to shreds.
“Well–” Frustration makes your tongue get tied. Or maybe it’s the way that Sevika’s looking at you– it’s not new seeing that cocky expression on her face, but never has she kept eye contact for this long. And you know she wants it, too. Why bother fighting it? “What? Are you just afraid your old back’s gonna give out on ya?”
Sevika tuts. But alas, she bows her head to obscure half of her face before grunting, “Alright. But bring something. Somethin’ cold to help with this…”
She pauses. Rises her head– not fully, just enough to catch your gaze once more, “– heat.”
Lord.
“Right,” You agree, clearing out the dryness of your throat. Yeah, you really do need something to help with the heat. “I’ll wait for you by the gate. Tack up Esperanza for me, yeah?”
Not that you wait for confirmation before making your retreat out of the barn. Sevika’s here as another working hand.
But you don’t have the balls to order her around completely.
Going in and out of the ranch house is a quick endeavor. Thankfully, Vi’s in her bedroom to question you about where you’re headed with four beers and two apples. As for your uncle, he’s too endorsed in the show he’s currently watching to spare you any attention.
Thus, soon enough, you’re trekking towards the gate that leads to the open field. Your mare, as you requested, is tacked up and ready. Sevika even used her pink saddle pad that goes well with her palomino coat. At her side, you shove the beers and fruits into the satchel attached to the saddle.
“Need a hand getting up?” Sevika’s voice nearly makes you jump.
You scoff, already rising your left leg to slip a boot into the stirrup, “No, I can do this on my own.”
“C’mon–”
“I don’t–”
But Sevika’s right hand has already reached for your right leg, and instinctively, your knee bends to help give yourself that little extra boost. And for all times for you to nearly slip, it’s this one. Your back doesn’t end up in the dirt, though, for Sevika’s hand slides up right against your bum to steady you and just push you onto the saddle.
All with one arm.
Fucking hell, you’re already wet.
“Thanks.” You mutter. Glancing over to your left, you watch as Sevika grasps the reins in one hand and lifts herself onto the saddle with a grunt. Adjusts her hips by shifting them backwards and loosens her spine. Her thighs, clad in jeans and brown chaps that mirror your white ones, hug the sides of her mount as she kicks it forward.
She bends down, opening up the gate and pushing it open. Her head jerks to the side, “Don’t go just yet. I ain’t giving you a headstart.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
And after some maneuvering, Sevika’s steed halts by your right. The horses nudge and sniff each other’s noses, but before either of the two pin their ears back, Sevika jerks her reins to the right with a gentle pull.
“On my count.”
Sevika only grunts at your announcement. The second the number ‘one’ leaves your lips, both of you are kicking your mounts into a gallop. There’s enough distance between you two to keep things safe, but not enough to not hear her breaths. Just enough space to watch the ease in which her hips follow each stride, much like your own do.
And as you lose yourself in the sight of Sevika’s bicep, just for a fleeting moment, she does the same with your hips. But soon enough does your gaze snap back forward, and you apologize under your breath to Esperanza for pushing her just a little more to get a little further ahead than the other beast.
Hooves beat down against the ground in an unsynced rhythm, and this feeling – this chase – is like no other. The adrenaline of it all beats the one that has your heart racing before you enter the arena in your competitions.
The creek comes into view, and before long, your mare zips past the tree. You pull at the reins and draw your hips back and into the saddle, pulling her to a stop and slowing down into a canter to do a circle. Sevika comes in second, trotting past the tree as her chest heaves some.
“Why, it does feel mighty good to finally beat you in something.” Arrogance gets the better of you– of course it does. It’s a first, beating Sevika in something that involves horseback riding.
Sevika doesn’t say anything, but you know she’s not offended. You can’t quite get a good read on her face, considering she’s doing that thing again– bowing her head just enough for the black wisps to fall free and cover even more than the brim of the hat does.
Dismounting from your mare, you give her a few pats and loosen the girth. Sevika does the same with a little less grace, though she’s rather quick about making her way over to you. Quick. Really quick, and she’s already reaching her right arm out and leaning down just enough–
But she reaches for the satchel, not your waist. And her lips don’t seize yours in a kiss.
Sevika isn’t blind to the way your shoulders droop with a breath, but thankfully, she keeps quiet about your not-so-subtle disappointment. She fetches one of the beers with one hand, and before you can mention the bottle opener that’s at the bottom of the bag, she brings the neck of it to her mouth, takes the mouth between her teeth, and cracks it open.
Then, spits it out and hands it over to you.
Casually, as if that was a normal thing to do.
“You’re going to ruin your teeth doing that.” You note, taking the bottle into your hands and appreciating the warmth her hands – now free of gloves – briefly provides.
Sevika grunts, rolling a singular shoulder in dismissal before doing the same for her own drink. And when she tips her head back, you stare a little too long at the expanse of her throat. Watch as the brown skin gleams under the sunset and the way it bobs with each hearty gulp.
And Sevika’s eyes, yet again, meet yours. And she grins, enough for some of the alcohol to slip out and drip down her chin. She doesn’t quite bother wiping that single droplet away from her chin.
“You brought a blanket, I hope.” She doesn’t mention your staring, not when it’d been so obvious.
You nod, clearing your throat and jerking your head towards the extra satchel on the other side of the saddle. You don’t speak, opting instead to freshen up your own throat by taking down half of the beer in a few gulps. Sevika bends down, momentarily placing her drink on the grass to pick out the item from the bag.
And you stare, again.
Sevika takes the checkered blanket in her hand and moves to stretch it out under the tree. But the wind blows too strongly, and you can hear her grumble and curse in frustration as the fabric whips against her handsome face.
“Here,” You offer some assistance, leaning down to recline your beer against the trunk of the tree before straightening yourself up. Taking two corners of the blanket, you aid Sevika in laying it down against the soft grass. Pat it and set it properly once its down, like you would a rowdy mustang after its bucking ceased.
Sevika grunts, “Thank you.”
Your shoulders only give a shrug as you settle on top of the blanket. The heat is still thriving, but not nearly as strongly. The one deep in your gut, though? It’s only been growing with each passing second, and it’s uncomfortable enough to make your thighs press together.
Sevika notices, but she looks away before you catch her gaze and turns to pick up her drink. She sits down at your side with a groan, letting the back of her head rest against the tree with a sigh. For a while, it’s silent. And though you don’t glance to your right to admire her face, you do peer down at your boots. They’re different in size and style.
Whereas yours are white – a little browned by the dust and wear – and have a higher heel, embroidered with delicate features, Sevika’s own are wider at the toe box and have a much plainer, darker finish in brown.
“How does it feel to know I’m better than you?”
Sevika’s eyes flutter open. She side-eyes you, her chest puffing out with a single huff of air leaving through her nostrils.
"...I've been riding before you were even in your mama's womb, girl." Sevika grouses, glancing down at your hips. She stares. Ponders. Longs for that soft flesh of your tummy that’s revealed by your blouse that’s ridden up.
"Yet I beat you here," Your hand gestures to the open field around you both. "So much for having twenty years in the saddle of experience over me."
But Sevika allows you to boast. No need to tell you that she only let you get ahead to get a glimpse of your ass.
And again, silence. Not the uncomfortable kind, but certainly the tense one. The kind where there’s that unspoken tension, but not from the long-lived rivalry between you two. It feels different this time, with no eyes or ears to pry in.
“Can I ask you something?” You question.
“You just did.” Sevika notes.
A huff leaves you now.
“I’ve always been curious about your arm,” The words leave you a little more quietly now. But you see Sevika shift out of the corner of your eye. How she rolls her neck to the side and keeps her gaze on the side of your face. “About how it– you know.”
Sevika hums. It’s a sound as calming as the wind, and one that eases the way your heart races after the bold nature of your question.
“I’ll spare you the gory details,” She says, lifting her right hand to loosen the knot of her free sleeve. This time, you do look her way, but your eyes follow the way the sleeve blows slowly against the wind. You’re tempted to push it upwards to properly reveal what’s always hidden underneath, but Sevika beats you to it. “Got too confident breakin’ in a mustang for a friend. Fell right on my ass and had the bad luck of getting the reins wrapped around my arm. A harsh jerk of the animal’s head and–”
She finishes her sentence by raising her right hand in a slicing motion. Whether it broke beyond repair or was ripped off in the literal sense, you don’t fry for, but the question you’ve always had about your rival is, at last, answered.
“And the mustang?”
Sevika tuts, jerking her head towards her steed. Her mare grazes alongside yours a few feet away by the creek, “She’s fattening herself up.”
Huh.
“And you’re comfortable enough telling this to me… why?” You probe. After all, before this, all you and Sevika shared were heated glares and glowers on your end.
“Well,” She rolls her head to the side and looks into your eyes. But her gaze drops to your lips, stares just long enough to have you notice, then looks back up. “It’s not like my past will make you win this Saturday. Will it, sugar?”
Yeah, your panties are ruined.
You don’t speak. Your hand only slowly, tentatively, rises to brush over the stump of her arm. When Sevika doesn’t say anything either, you press your fingertips into the flesh, finding it has a curious amount of give.
And before you can poke at it again, Sevika’s hand finds your side. Her palm, broad and rough, cups your waist and gives it a squeeze. When your answer comes out as a single, soft breath, she seizes the opportunity to reel you in and bring you onto her lap. Your weight settles over her hips, and Sevika groans. Her right arm wraps around your frame fully, brings your chest right against hers.
She stares at you. Waits for your lips to part in protest, but the moment your head bows just a little, she takes that as her cue. Her lips, thick and soft, molds against yours. Sevika’s head tilts to mirror yours, allowing her better access as her tongue slips between your teeth. It presses against yours– renders it useless as she consumes you and ignites that warmth in your belly into a fire.
She doesn’t rush– doesn’t shove her tongue in too deep and into every crevice of your mouth. No, she savors the taste of you; the taste of you, and the lingering bitterness from the beer. Her hand slips down to your lower back, splaying over it before slipping south to cup your ass. She squeezes the cheek, urging your hips down as her thigh shifts to settle right between your legs.
And the friction against your clothed mouth serves just enough to spill forth a moan from your throat.
Sevika savors the sound– allowing it to settle deep into her lungs and letting it brand itself into her mind. But she longs for that sound, and again, her right hand urges your hips to roll down against her thigh. You take the hint, steadying your hands on her broad shoulders and curling your fingers around the warm muscle underneath her flannel.
Slowly, steadily, you roll your hips down, bringing your mound against the broad, strong expanse of her thigh. Sevika groans against your lips, momentarily pulling away to watch you. Her hand drops to the front of your blouse, thick fingertips ghosting over the sensitive patch of your skin that is your navel. When you shudder, hips faltering for a moment, she grins.
That smug, knowing grin.
Slowly, Sevika sits up, maneuvering you both until your back meets the blanket. She hovers over you, steadying herself up with one arm. Her head bows, and she ghosts her lips over your cheek before she trails them down to your throat. Like a crane unfolding itself, you tip your head back to reveal the skin.
Sevika doesn’t waste another second. Her mouth closes around the side of your neck, tongue pressing against the tender, warm flesh before she sucks it into her mouth and gives the slightest of nips. One. Then another slight bite. It warms you from the inside and out, and you squirm underneath her.
Before your palms can connect with her shoulders again, though, Sevika speaks;
“Unbutton your blouse,” She mutters against your throat, then pauses. Lets her breath wash over your damp skin before bringing her mouth right against your ear. “Slowly.”
Without a word, you comply. Your fingers, usually so steady in their movements, fumble with the buttons of your shirt. All the while, Sevika watches as each button pops open. She takes in the sight of your heaving chest and hums in satisfaction once your bra comes into view. She sits back on her haunches, bringing her hand against your sternum before trailing it further down.
And you don’t need another order.
You roll a bit, awkwardly searching for the hook of your brassier whilst on your back. But once it snaps off, Sevika’s fingertips are all too quick at sliding the straps down your shoulders to toss the undergarment away. You don’t care for where it lands, much too eager about how she lowers her head down. She kisses the hollow of your throat, raining down slow, open-mouthed kisses against your skin as she nudges herself backwards.
And soon enough, her breath splays over your right breast. Her hand rises, landing over the left side of your chest. She doesn’t cup it – barely can – but rather splays her palm over it to cover it in its entirety. Again, you shudder, feeling your stiff nipples harden further under Sevika’s mouth and hand.
Her lips take one bud between them, and when your hips buck with a gasp, she presses her face further against your skin. She sucks greedily, pulling more out of your whines for her ears to listen in to. She doesn’t leave the other unattended to– her thumb pinches your nipple, further adding to the stimulation.
“Fuck,” A curse flies from your lips, and soon enough do your hands travel to the top of her head. You rip the cowboy hat off her head, relishing in the way the silky strands of her black hair fall between your fingertips. Sevika groans when you pull at the strands, lashes fluttering against your chest as she continues her assault on your tits. “Sevika–”
“Hm.” She hums– not in question, merely as a sign that she’s listening. Her lips part away from your nipple, and she gives your tit a kiss before trailing her mouth down south. Her mouth is warm and wet against your heated skin, and she chuckles when she feels the unconscious movement of your belly sucking in for a moment.
“Care to give me a hand here, sweetheart?”
You peer down at her, swallowing hard as she rests her chin over the waistband of your jeans. You nod, all too eagerly, and bring your hands down to the button of your jeans. Sevika rises and sits up, watching as you raise your hips and begin to pull them down. Down, past your hips and soft thighs she longs to feel around the sides of her head.
She helps you rip them off completely once they pool at your ankle, tossing them over her shoulder. Sevika leans down again, parting your legs with one hand to press her cheek against your inner thigh. Her fingertips swipe over the lace trim of your panties, and she grins against your skin when you squirm yet again.
Her fingers hook into them, and after looking into your eyes for a few seconds to receive a nod in confirmation, she slides them down and does the same as she did with your jeans.
Once your cunt is bared to her, she groans, “So pretty.”
To say you’re drenched would be an understatement. Who knew your rival – and one twenty years older – would make you this wet?
Sevika brings her thumb against your slit, collecting your arousal to smear it over your clit that peeks out from underneath its hood. You groan softly at the contact, letting your head rest back against the blanket.
“That’s it,” Sevika coos, the drawl to her words as smooth as honey. She leans down again, parting your folds with her hand to reveal you to her properly. “Just lay back for me.”
And once your hands find their home on the top of her head again, Sevika brings her face forward. She seals her mouth over your clit, prompting a soft cry from your throat as she presses her tongue against the sensitive bud and gives it a gentle suck. You close your eyes shut and focus– really focus on not coming just yet because that’d be embarrassing as all hell.
Sevika groans against your sex, keeping her gaze on the way your stomach and chest rise with each breath. She’s calculating– testing for what makes you keen and what makes your toes curl into the blanket just a little tighter.
Her head lowers, and you shudder with a whimper as her tongue swipes between your folds.
Sevika didn’t rush– this was no competition, and both of you would come out as winners in the end. She nudges your legs further apart with her elbow, her tongue working its way into your cunt and unrelenting in its movements. You could feel that warmth pool at your lower belly, getting tighter and tighter. Your hips bucked against her face, but Sevika’s right arm curled around your thigh to hold you down.
Relentless. Firm. Insistent.
She worked you up and pushed cry after gasp from your throat. Her groans vibrated against your slick flesh, the thick hook of her nose nudging sweetly against your sensitive clit. How annoying, that she was good at everything– claiming ribbons and eating pussy.
Your orgasm was just at your fingertips. So close, so very–
Sevika pulls back.
And you keen.
Frustrated, you bang the back of your head against the grass, gasping for dry air as the warmth built in your core dissipates little by little. “Fuck you.”
Sevika hums, sitting up and parting your legs after they close. Prevents you from rubbing your thighs together in hopes of chasing something long gone. Controls you.
Fucking owns you, at this point.
“You think I don’t know you get sleepy after one orgasm?” It comes off as a question, but it’s a subtle way to remind you of something. Make you remember that one time you– “Your bedroom shares a wall with mine. And the walls aren’t exactly thick.”
You stare up at Sevika, flustered beyond measure. You recall that one night you couldn’t sleep. You’d been restless at two in the morning, and after tossing and turning for hours, you took to slipping a hand up your nightgown and pulling down your panties.
You hadn’t thought about someone in particular. Just envisioned the touch of someone as both of your hands busied themselves underneath the sheets. You’d thought your quiet gasps and breaths would be heard by no one but you, but little had you known that someone was just as restless that night.
And indeed, you get sleepy after you finish.
“I’ll have you come on my fingers instead.” Sevika says it so plainly– so surely. And you? You’re in shambles, and shameless.
“Please.”
Sevika breathes in. Holds the air in her chest for a moment to control herself.
She jerks her chin down to herself. Gestures silently, as she has in the past. She won’t speak for her wishes, but you follow the command eagerly. You sit up, bringing your hands up against the front of her chest. Your fingertips make quick work of the buttons to her flannel, but after her lips seize yours amidst the action, you loose yourself.
Sevika allows you to taste yourself on her tongue.
You’re unsure of when your hands eventually meet the bare skin of her back. How your fingertips followed each contour of muscle and the slight markings of her binder – now tossed in the grass alongside your garments – on her heated skin.
But once your bodies pressed together, the taut plane of her abdomen flush against your tummy, you reeled your head back and took in the sight of her. Sevika hovered over you, naked as the day as she’d been born. Your hand traced the stretchmarks on her hips as hers did yours, and though stiff, Sevika allowed you.
Most of all, you simply wished to see her.
And she growled – actually fucking growled – when your hand skims over the stump of her arm yet again. The touch, however fleeting, made her shudder and dark nipples harden further.
Her right hand moves then, cupping your mound. And just as the heel of her palm pressed flat against your clit, one finger worked its way into your warmth. You moaned, the sound carried against the rolling wind. It stretched you– filled you up nearly just as much as two of your own fingers did.
Sevika didn’t speak– she watched, and again, tested how you liked to be touched. But it didn’t take long for her digit to find a rhythm that had your body twisting and your hands curling into the sheet below. And as she added a second finger, she muffled your whimper by pressing her lips against yours again.
She shushes you gently, coaxing your body to loosen and relax around her again. Your hand curls over her shoulder, and you felt the slight jerk of her left side– as though forgetting for a moment that there was no limb to bring you closer. To hold you properly, as she wanted.
So you settle for holding her instead.
Your leg wraps around her hip, opening yourself up further to her. You whine into her mouth as her fingers began to work you open. They pumped and curled just so, just right– pressing right into that spongy part inside of you that had your insides twisting and burning up all over again.
But Sevika wouldn’t pull away this time.
Her thumb presses right over your clit, rubbing circles– slowly, at first, then climbs in tandem until she finds the speed to help you climb that edge. Her tongue swipes against yours, taking each whine and gasp right into her lungs. That satisfies her just enough. For Sevika, there was nothing that’d beat watching a woman crumble beneath her fingertips.
And watching the one that she’d always enjoyed crushing under her thumb? Even better.
“You close, sweetheart?” She breathes against your lips, parting from the kiss for a moment. Her eyes drop to the apex of your thighs, and she groans at the sound emitting from the area. Wet squelches produced by your arousal and the air she was pushing into it.
You can't speak. You only nod, bringing your arms around her frame and pressing your palms flat against her broad back. Hold her. Dig your nails into the firm skin as your belly began to tighten. As that warmth builds tighter and tighter and your thighs begin to tremble.
Sevika presses her thumb down against your clit. Curls her fingers just right. Presses a smooch against your ear, and– “Atta girl.”
Your orgasm crashes like a wave against your frame. The warmth from before that’d been denied blooms from your gut and spreads out to your very fingertips. Your hips buck weakly against Sevika’s palm, chasing the feeling for as long as you can. And as your legs begin to shake from the overstimulation against your clitoris, your head shakes.
You can't speak just yet. Just gasped against her ear.
Sevika gets the hint. She withdraws her hand, watching as you clench around nothing as her fingers slipped out of your cunt. As you catch your breath, you watch as she brings her fingers against her lips. Her tongue pushes between the two that she’d used, then pushed between her lips and into her mouth.
Sevika groans, unsure if from your taste or the vision underneath her. No, not a vision.
Because this was real.
Sevika didn’t say a word as she dropped to your side. Her arm wraps around your waist, bringing you close. Your hands smooth up and down her sides, and though sleep hovers over you like the clouds do over the horizon, you fight it.
For as long as you could, at least.
You’re unsure of how long you were out for, but by the time your eyes flutter open, there’s no light to adjust to. Crickets sing their tunes in the grass, and a chill passes through you. Sevika sits at your side, now clad in jeans and the fabric that renders her chest a little flat.
She dressed you, too. Her flannel over your frame does its job of hiding your bra and panties on your person, but modesty has long been thrown out the window.
“How long was I asleep for?”
Sevika exhales a plume of smoke from her nostrils, puckering her lips for a moment before giving a shrug, “An hour, or so.”
You sit up against the tree like she does, bringing your cheek to rest over her right arm. She opts to raise it and tuck you underneath it instead, mindful of the cigarette hanging between her fingertips. Sevika only grunts when you pluck it and bring it to your lips.
“Will you let me win this Saturday?”
She only chuckles. That deep, hearty sound that once grated your nerves more than it did brought warmth to your cheeks.