FIC: A Novel Idea, NC17, The Devil Wears Prada, (Miranda/Andy)
Title: A Novel Idea
Author: ubiquitousmixie and ellipsisoveruse
Rating: NC-17…seriously.
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Miranda/Andy
Disclaimer: Miranda and Andy belong to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox…lucky bastards. We just borrowed them, as we are under the belief that Miranda and Andy are in need of multiple orgasms…
Summary: A typical night at the Priestly/Sachs residence…
Author's Note: Well, our busy little fingers were at it again. We bring to you another fun, sexy Mirandy smutfest. Special thanks to Good Vibrations and Agent Provocateur for having…fun merchandise. The graphic was made by ellipsisoveruse. We hope you enjoy!
Please comment! Comments are LOVE (and comments are great motivators to keep us writing…*wink*)
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Andy sighed happily as her eyes danced across the page, avidly soaking in every word. She was no longer lying on her stomach in her bedroom; instead, she was transported into the world of Jane Austen and was thoroughly enjoying every minute of it.
So immersed was Andy that she didn't hear the bedroom door open and was pulled from her mental revelry by the unceremonious clap of The Book hitting the bedside table.
"Are you reading that drivel again?" Miranda asked, shrugging her Chanel blazer from her shoulders and tossing it on a nearby chair.
Andy gasped in mock horror, sitting up as she clutched Pride and Prejudice to her chest. "Jane Austen is not drivel! She is one of the most talented writers…EVER!"
Miranda rolled her eyes. "How many times have you read that now? In three years--"
"It's a classic, Miranda. Don't knock it till you've tried it."
"I tried it in high school. That was more than enough for me."
Andy fell back onto the bed with an exaggerated sigh. "You are missing out. This book…it's so romantic."
"Oh yes," Miranda drawled as she unzipped her skirt and stepped out of it, placing it with her blazer and blouse that she had discarded moments ago, "thwarted love affairs based on stuck up rich men and women of a lower class…" Her voice trailed off when she noticed Andy's raised brow. She rolled her eyes.
"You are so my Mr. Darcy," Andy said, dropping the book on the bed. "And I'm your Elizabeth Bennet."
"Does the book take place in a mental asylum?" Miranda slipped on her gray bathrobe.
Andy laughed and slid her arms around Miranda's neck. "'You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,'" Andy quoted, kissing Miranda softly.
Miranda's arms curled around Andy's waist. "Isn't that supposed to be my line?"
A smile lit up the brunette's face. "Hey! You so know this book better than you are letting on!"
Miranda shook her head dismissively. "So it would seem. May I take my bath now?"
Andy kissed her again. "Only if I can join you."
"So long as you wash my back," Miranda complied, her lips murmuring softly against Andy's.
"You can count on that, love."
"Are we going to talk about this all night, or actually do it?"
Andy kissed Miranda's nose before grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the bathroom. "Oh, we're going to do it."
Once in the bathroom, Andy set to work filling the tub with steaming water and jasmine bath salts while Miranda removed her make up. Andy sat on the edge of the tub, watching her lover as she carefully washed away the face that Runway knew so well. Underneath the expensive products was the complex, misunderstood woman that Andy loved more than she was able to completely comprehend.
Miranda blinked several times as she noticed Andy staring at her through the mirror. "What?"
"Nothin'. You're just perty."
"Come here."
Andy obeyed, crossing the short distance between them. Miranda spun around and enveloped the younger woman in her arms, kissing her deeply, intently.
"Mmm...long day?"
"Unbearably." Miranda sighed, resting her forehead on Andy's shoulder. "I've been waiting for this all day."
Andy kissed the crown of her head, soft, silver strands tickling her nose. "Me too." She peered back over her shoulder. "Bath's almost full."
Miranda held her for several more moments before letting Andy slip away and turn off the taps. Steam swirled invitingly over the surface. When Andy turned, she caught her breath as Miranda slipped out of her bathrobe, her burgundy lingerie shortly following. Andy licked her lips as Miranda stepped forward.
"You're overdressed."
Andy shivered as Miranda stripped her of her tank top, gym shorts, and cotton panties. Slipping her hand behind Miranda's neck, she pulled her in for a slow, deep kiss, her tongue stroking against the velvety softness of Miranda's mouth. Miranda emitted a low groan, shifting her body against Andy's before pulling away and stepping into the spacious tub. Andy soon followed, settling between Miranda's spread legs, her back pressed flush with Miranda's front. Miranda curled her arms around Andy's waist and both women sighed in content.
They sat in silence for several minutes, eyes closed, allowing the steaming water to relax their minds and bodies. Andy's head rested on her lover's shoulder, but she tilted her head back and looked up when she heard Miranda sigh deeply.
"Is everything okay?"
Miranda smiled fondly, brushing Andy's bangs out of her eyes. "Oh yes. I'm just glad to be home."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Miranda shook her head. "I can think of other things I'd rather do."
A slow smile spread across Andy's face. Twisting in Miranda's lap, she finally came face to face with the woman she loved, wrapping her legs around Miranda's waist, running her fingers through her hair, and drawing her in for a deep kiss.
"That's better," Miranda murmured into the kiss.
Miranda's tongue teased along Andy's bottom lip before she worried it gently between her teeth. Andy whimpered before slanting her mouth once more over the older woman's, indulging in an unhurried kiss that left them panting and squirming against each other.
"You are exquisite," Miranda whispered against Andy's throat.
"So are you. And then some."
Miranda looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "Always have to one up me, don't you?"
Andy grinned. "You are impossible to outdo in 98% of all situations. I'll take my successes where I can." To Andy's surprise, even after three years of companionship, Miranda smiled. "Lean your head back."
Miranda did as she was told and Andy prided herself at how easy it was to command Miranda Priestly to do something. She placed a soft kiss on Miranda's elongated throat as she dipped her hair back into the water, soaking it thoroughly. Andy reached for the bottle of expensive shampoo and poured some into her palm while Miranda sat back up. Miranda's eyes flashed with anticipation.
Andy kissed Miranda lightly on the lips once more, then slid around behind her - easy enough in the ample tub. Her long fingers quickly worked the rich shampoo into a thick lather against Miranda's scalp, breathing in the light lavender scent. She'd been surprised, all those years ago, to learn of Miranda's love for simple things, but she understood it now: Miranda's life was absorbed almost completely by the ever-changing, complex, detailed world of fashion, and though Miranda loved it, keeping up with it all was exhausting - so it was no surprise that, in the minute and hidden details of her personal life, Miranda preferred simplicity.
And Andy loved it. No one but she would ever associate lavender with Miranda Priestly - by the time Miranda had finished her morning routine complete with hairspray, makeup and perfume, the scent was long gone, but to Andy, it was the scent of intimate early morning showers, of lazy Saturdays when the twins were at their father's, of vacations in obscure places where no one would recognize them. It was the scent of the real Miranda, the woman beneath the designer clothing and expensive makeup, rarely seen, but infinitely more precious than the façade.
She sighed happily, closing her eyes as her fingers massaged Miranda's temples. "I love you, Miranda," she breathed.
Miranda let out a long sigh at Andy's ministrations and, her voice low, "I love you too, Andrea."
Butterflies tickled within the depths of Andy's abdomen. It never ceased to amaze her to hear those words. It still felt so surreal - this life, this love. She cherished every moment. Scraping her nails in lazy circles around Miranda's scalp, she worked in the shampoo until a light foam covered the woman's head. Andy grinned, remembering one particularly silly Sunday morning when Miranda playfully allowed Andy to shape the shampooed hair into various positions. Her favorite had been the mohawk. Miranda would be hot as a biker chick. A biker chick with a whip. She swallowed, imagining her lover in tight leather. She'd have to make a mental note of that.
"Lean back."
Miranda did as she was told and it was with great care that Andy cradled Miranda's head and shook her fingers through the damp strands of hair, shaking the shampoo out into the water. She sat her up and began to repeat the process with the lavender conditioner.
"The twins are making us dinner tomorrow," Andy said, using the pads of her fingers to work in the conditioner. She paid extra attention behind Miranda's ears and at the nape of her neck.
"Mmm...that sounds lovely. What are they making?"
"They said it was a surprise. I'm rooting for chocolate chip pancakes myself."
"Breakfast for dinner," Miranda scowled, dipping her head back into the water once more. "Of all things."
"Awe, come on, babe. Breakfast is amazing."
"Yes. At the appropriate hour."
Andy pouted. "You're no fun."
Miranda sat back up, pushing her wet hair back against her head. "Is that so?"
Andy forced her lower lip to tremble as she nodded.
"I'll show you just how fun I can be." As the words left Miranda's mouth, her lips latched onto one of Andy's dusky pink, puckered nipples.
Andy moaned, arching back into Miranda's touch, while Miranda ran her fingers up and down Andy's sides. Andy giggled and squirmed, having always been ticklish, then suddenly slipped down until she was laying beneath Miranda, the older woman's reflexes luckily fast enough to support Andy's head before it went beneath the water. They were still for a moment, hearts pounding at the shock, blue eyes meeting brown, until Miranda moaned softly and bent to take Andy's mouth with her own.
"God...you're amazing," Andy sighed, tangling her fingers in Miranda's damp hair. Miranda replied with a muffled moan as she repositioned them. Andy yelped as her back pressed against the side of the tub and the cool tile above it, but before she could complain about her discomfort, Miranda lifted her so that Andy was straddling her, her mouth immediately fastening to the smooth patch of skin between her breasts.
Andy breathed heavily as she watched Miranda's hands toy with her breasts, cupping and squeezing and rolling their heaviness against her palms. Miranda nipped at her flesh before kissing her way around the swell of her left breast, teasing around her taut nipple with her index finger. She licked her lips, arching her back slightly as Miranda's tongue began to circle the rigid peak. She could feel a surge of moisture settling between her legs and she cried out when Miranda began to lick at her nipple, flicking at it in the same way she did with her clit when she went down on her. Andy could almost feel the motions at the apex of her thighs and she moaned, closing her eyes as she rested her head back against the tile.
Andy's head spun, her body teeming with want, as Miranda switched breasts, following the same teasing path. "Oooh...Miranda..." She shifted against her lover and choked back a moan when Miranda's hand dropped beneath the water, sliding over the curve of her waist, across the slope of her thigh, before cupping her sex. She angled her hips against Miranda's hand, biting her lip as Miranda rolled her nipple against her teeth while her fingers began to softly stroke against her.
Miranda's movements were unhurried as her fingers swept over her clit and then down to her entrance. Her index finger teased at her opening, flicking over the sensitive flesh with her fingernail before stroking across her perineum. She repeated her path several times, increasing pressure at each pass. Andy squirmed and sighed, whispering her lover's name like a mantra.
Miranda returned to her mouth, kissing her hard, as two fingers began to slowly slide inside of her. Andy's hips jerked and she attempted to control herself, her mind vaguely aware of the water sloshing at her sides. With her free hand, Miranda's fingers began to manipulate her clit, rolling it between her thumb and index finger, dragging it in and out of its protective hood.
Andy moaned, her fingers digging into Miranda's shoulders as she attempted to remember the last time she had felt this amazing.
"My God, Andrea," Miranda breathed, breaking the kiss to look into her lover's eyes, but never breaking the rhythm of her fingers. "I've been wanting this all day."
Andy's eyes were closed, eyelashes fanning over her cheeks, lips parted in a silent cry, when Miranda suddenly pulled away. Andy whimpered, blinking in confusion.
"I want -" Miranda faltered. "I need -" Her eyes were wild, raking over Andy's body. "Get out," she commanded.
"But, Miranda...?" Andy asked, hurt, even as she climbed out of the bathtub, but Miranda shook her head.
Andy sighed. She was used to Miranda's mood swings, but they weren't usually this sudden. She reached for a thick bath sheet, back to the older woman, not trusting herself to look at her right now.
Then suddenly she was grabbed roughly from behind, spun around and pressed up against the wall. "Oh God," Miranda moaned into her mouth, kissing her deeply. Pulling back, looking into her lover's large brown eyes, Miranda murmured hoarsely "I want to feel you come," then dropped to her knees between her lover's legs, "with my tongue".
Andy's eyes opened wider, then snapped closed again.
She shivered -- the cold air against her wet body and Miranda's tongue lapping against her --and clutched Miranda's shoulders.
Miranda hungrily ate her, her tongue pulsating against her lower lips, slipping between and grazing her clit. Andy cried out, her head spinning. She should be used to this by now; Miranda often started slowly but it was as if a dam broke within her, an unbridled need forcing her to taste and touch as much as possible. Andy was not one to complain, especially as Miranda's tongue became pointed and stiff, flicking back and forth over her nub. Andy shrieked.
"Ooohh...Oh God...Mir---uuuhhn..Mmmm.."
Miranda paused briefly and with great difficulty, Andy looked down, her eyes widening when she noticed Miranda furiously fucking her own hand. Andy screamed, coming hard against Miranda's mouth. Miranda's climax came only moment after, the older woman nuzzling her head against Andy's hips as she humped her hand through each wave of delicious pleasure.
Both women's breathing was hard and deep. Andy shivered again, goosebumps embellishing her flesh. "Come on, babe. Let's get back in the tub." She held out her hand and helped Miranda up.
This time, Andy stepped in first, allowing Miranda to settle between her legs. Her cheeks were flushed, her breath still quick. Andy beamed; Miranda Priestly was gorgeous in the afterglow of an orgasm. The water had cooled significantly. With her toes, Andy pulled the stopper and turned on the hot water tap.
"Aaaah," Miranda sighed as steamy water kissed her skin. "Perfect."
Andy kissed her temple, replacing the stopper and turning off the water. As the women settled into the now hot water, Andy's hands caressed the smooth planes of Miranda's stomach. She cupped Miranda's breasts, languorously toying with her nipples. Miranda's only response was to shift against her and sigh.
Andy reached behind her, grabbing a bright yellow Rubber Ducky off the ledge. As soon as she twisted the base and the small plastic toy began to hum, Miranda groaned.
"Not that vile little thing again. I thought I got rid of it."
Andy giggled, positioning the small vibrator against Miranda's abdomen. "Nope. Come on. You love it."
Miranda sniffed indignantly. Andy grinned. She knew that Miranda would never admit that a vibrator shaped like a childhood toy would get her off, but she knew that she secretly loved it. As Andy slipped the ducky lower, rubbing it up and down the length of Miranda's lips, Miranda moaned.
"Relax, Miranda," Andy said, her voice low and silky, just the way she knew Miranda liked it. She teased the vibrator across Miranda's swollen, wet folds, nudging the rubber toy against her clit. Miranda gasped, arching her hips into the buzzing toy.
"Open yourself up for me."
Miranda obeyed and, though Andy couldn't see, she could feel Miranda's fingers parting herself. Andy twisted the ducky in her hand, using the round, bulbous head of the toy to circle around the hood of Miranda's clit, teasing her. She paid particular attention to the spot just to the left of the bud and Miranda let out a throaty moan.
"Mmmm..."
Andy licked at the lobe of Miranda's ear, blowing gently against it as she pressed the vibrator into Miranda's clit. She lifted it, just barely touching her, before pressing it down again. Miranda grabbed at Andy's knee with her free hand, arching her back, elongating her throat over Andy's shoulder.
"Ooooh...uh..fuck..."
"Yes, baby...that's it...come for me..."
"I...I hate...unh...this goddamned...tooooy."
Miranda's orgasm hit hard. She shrieked loudly and then cried out, "Andreaaaaaa!"
Andy held her breath as she watched her lover climax, sucking on Miranda's neck as Miranda's chest rose out of the water, her breasts jutting proudly into the air. Water sloshed at the sides of the tub as Miranda's convulsions began to subside and, several long moments later, Miranda pushed the rubber ducky away from her and slumped against her lover.
"Remind me again how this happened?" Miranda moaned, the soft smile on her face taking the edge off her words.
"You just couldn't resist me," Andy grinned.
"Hmm, yes. Despite your low connections."
"What?" Andy demanded. "Miranda, I know I don't come from money -"
"Oh, your uncle in Cheapside, your sister running all over London with that Wickham character like a little floozy..." Miranda's eyes twinkled.
Andy beamed and, pulling Miranda's head back against her shoulder, kissed her soundly.
"I love you, Mr. Darcy."
Miranda rolled her eyes. "You'd better behave yourself, Miss Bennet!" Then, stretching up to whisper in Andy's ear, breath hot against her lover's cheek, "otherwise I might have to get that riding crop out again and teach you a little lesson."
Andy squeaked, her eyes widening. "Oh my God." She swallowed. "You know, I've been a very bad girl..."
Miranda raised an eyebrow. "So I see. Begging to be spanked is not befitting of a genteel daughter of an English aristocrat, you know."
"Even Elizabeth Bennet was naughty....flirting and teasing guys...walking miles just to see her sister..."
"Speaking out to that Lady What's-Her-Name..."
"Lady Catherine!"
"Aah, yes. I liked her character."
Andy laughed. "You would."
Miranda pursed her lips. "Nothing wrong with appreciating a woman who respects social order."
"Like you give a rat's ass about social order."
Miranda opened her mouth to protest but Andy hushed her with a kiss. "Hun, you're naked with another woman half your age."
Miranda huffed. "Men do this sort of thing all the time. I don't see why I should be any different."
"Exactly. Screw social order. But you know, Lady Catherine did appreciate Lizzy's fingering...on the piano, anyway."
"And so she should."
"Mmhmm....now...about that riding crop..."
Miranda spun around onto her knees, hands against the wall on each side of Andy's shoulders, effectively pinning her in place. Their faces were almost touching as Miranda leaned over her lover, eyes glinting darkly. "Is that what you want, Andrea?" she drawled. "You want things... a little rougher?"
Andy nodded, speechless, heart pounding, heat pooling between her thighs once more.
Miranda closed the gap between them, sliding her tongue into Andy's mouth, tangling her fingers in the younger woman's hair. "Be careful what you wish for."
Andy squirmed, unable to believe how ready she was for whatever Miranda might have in mind. She licked against Miranda's mouth and shivered.
After three years, Miranda Priestly never ceased to thrill her.
"You're insatiable," Miranda purred, biting Andy's bottom lip. She sucked and then sank her teeth a little harder. "Who knew my lover was a raging nymphomaniac."
"Hello, pot."
"I did not ask you a question," Miranda said, nibbling at Andy's throat. "I'm getting out of the bath now. Clean things up in here and when you are finished, I expect to find you bending over the bed. Do not get dressed"
"Where are you--"
Miranda raised an eyebrow, silencing her lover. She stood, slowly, keeping her eyes fastened to Andy's. Water dripped down her body, sliding over luscious curves. Andy's mouth went dry. Wrapping herself in a towel, Miranda disappeared.
Andy splashed water on her face before tidying the shampoo, conditioner, and tucking the Rubber Ducky away lest the twins stumble upon it. She pulled the stopper and as the water circled the drain, she stepped out of the bathtub and dried herself off. She drew her damp hair into a loose bun, clipping it at the nape of her neck. She stared at her reflection, already noting the change that had taken over the atmosphere of the evening.
What had started as a sensual, relaxing night was going to take a much different turn.
Miranda was right; it was a complete shock that Andy would be so eager to do anything, everything, with her lover in a moment's notice. She'd never been like this with anyone. It was much less surprising that Miranda's demeanor could take such a turn; she exhibited such displays in her moods every day but this -- this infused Andy with curiosity, lust, and awe. Miranda Priestly couldn't get enough of her, and this fact gave her a renewed sense of worth and purpose.
Andy exited the bathroom, frowning upon finding that the bedroom was still empty. She walked over to the bed and, after moving her Austen novel to the nightstand, bent over the bed, her forearms flat on the mattress.
She felt exposed. She sighed and shifted her legs, already feeling her sex swelling with moisture and need.
A noise behind her drew her attention. She turned her head, glancing over her shoulder. Her knees buckled.
Miranda stood at the door of the walk-in closet, her hair swept back, her right hand smacking a black riding crop against her left palm. Andy couldn't help but gape as she took in the sight of her lover. Four-inch Christian Louboutins adorned her feet. Andy swallowed. She loved those shoes; they were black and the soles were blood red. Black stockings encased her legs, clasped at her thighs to a black gartered Agent Provocateur corset. The satin garment was paired with a pair of black panties which, Andy knew, would expose a great deal of her lover's ass. The corset pushed her breasts together, her cleavage high and full.
"Oh my God," Andy sighed.
"I didn't give you permission to look at me. Turn your head."
Andy swept her eyes over Miranda's form once more before she pressed her forehead to the mattress.
"Where does this stamina of yours come from, Andrea?" Miranda asked, the tapping of the leather beating in a steady rhythm against her palm.
"You."
Miranda smacked the riding crop against her ass. "Excuse me?"
Andy whimpered. "Um. I mean…'you, Miranda.'"
"Am I unsatisfying, Andrea?"
Andy yelped as she felt the riding crop tickling the back of her knees, tracing lazy lines up and down each of her thighs. "God no, Miranda!"
"Hmm." Miranda tapped the riding crop softly against the soft ivory flesh of her ass. "That's surprising."
Andy opened her mouth but snapped it closed. She held her breath, waiting for Miranda to continue.
"I went down on you not more than an hour ago, and now you're already a quivering mess? What explanation do you have for this?"
"I can't get enough of you…I've never been able to…"
"Apparently," Miranda drawled, touching the riding crop against her lower lips.
Andy groaned, pushing back against the leather as it dragged against her wetness.
Andy whimpered as Miranda withdrew the crop. "You said you've been very bad, Andrea."
Andy took a deep breath and nodded, gasping as Miranda dragged the tongue of the crop down her spine.
"Tell me."
"I -" Andy's breath drew in sharply as Miranda ran the crop up the inside of her thigh - "I think about you. All the time. All the things I want to do to you."
"All the things?" Andy fancied that Miranda's voice sounded a little higher.
"Oh, yes, Miranda. I think about coming into Runway, interrupting a meeting, sending everyone out of your office-" The crop paused. "Everyone would know what was happening, but I wouldn't care. You wouldn't care either, because you'd want it so badly. I'd push you down onto your desk and slide my tongue against you, and you'd be so wet, so ready. Begging for it..."
The crop flicked sharply against Andy's thigh, and even Miranda seemed surprised. She cleared her throat. "What else, Andrea?"
The sting of the leather tingled pleasantly over her thigh and she groaned. "Oh…I think about you all the time at the paper…I can't get you out of my head…I'll be sitting at my desk and I'll be picturing your face and your body. I get so fucking wet, Miranda…OH!"
At the admission, Miranda snapped the riding crop against her ass. Andy's hips jerked as she cried out. "Go on," Miranda ordered, her voice hoarse. "Tell me how you've been bad."
"Today at work I couldn't get the image of you in your suit out of my head…I was so wet…I slipped off my shoe and curled my leg on the chair and I rubbed the heel of my foot against myself…AAH!"
Miranda slapped the crop hard against the opposite cheek, her own moan mixing with Andy's. "You got off, didn't you? With all of those people around you?" When Andy didn't respond, she smacked her again. "Didn't you?"
"Oh! Yes! Yes, Miranda, I did…I couldn't help myself…"
"Couldn't help putting yourself on display for the entire office?"
Smack.
"N-n-no. No one noticed. Most people were on assignment, covering the riots. I was quiet…so quiet. You know how quiet I can be, Miranda. No one would have known."
Slap.
"Mmmm….oh God…you never knew, did you?"
"Knew what?"
The crop came down on her ass once again. Andy could only imagine how red it was becoming.
"How many times I got off when I was your assistant…when you were in the room, or only a few feet away."
Andy cried out when the crop tapped against her sex.
"Is that so?"
"You know it is. My panties have been soaked every goddamned day since I've met you."
Miranda choked back a whimper at Andy's admission and dragged the tongue of the crop along her slit. Andy cried out, arching into the contact. Miranda stepped closer, pressing her thighs against her lover's, and, reaching down, she allowed her fingers to follow the path of the crop.
Andy was breathing heavily, overwhelmed by sensation. Miranda's other hand, and most of her weight, rested upon Andy's lower back, holding her still. Miranda continued to tease her, tickling her fingers along her slit, sliding her fingers just inside before pulling them away and starting again.
"You just cannot control yourself when I'm around."
"Nope- ahh- no, Miranda. Even just the thought of you, and I- ooh."
Miranda had withdrawn her fingers and tapped Andy sharply on her thigh with the riding crop. "That was not a question, Andrea." Miranda stepped back. "Roll over."
Andy obediently rolled onto her back, gasping once again at the sight of her lover. "Oh, Miranda..." she breathed.
"Spread your legs," Miranda demanded.
Andy did as she was told, parting her thighs. She rested on her elbows, staring at Miranda's cleavage rising against the black corset. The white cream of her skin contrasted gorgeously with the black of the silk. It made Miranda glow. It was almost...ethereal. Andy swallowed. Miranda Priestly stood before her in her "I'm-going-to-make-you-so-fucking-wet-you-will-feel-like-you're-drowning" outfit, wielding a riding crop. If this was Miranda the angel, Andy wasn't sure whether or not she were in heaven or hell.
One thing Andy both loved and hated about Miranda Priestly was how quickly she could don a persona to fit a certain situation. There was Editor-in-Chief Miranda. Mother Miranda. Ex-Wife Miranda. Romantic Miranda. And this....this was a version of Miranda that crept in the undertones of every persona. This was the domineering, controlling part of her. As a mother, an editor, a woman - she liked control. She liked power. But it was in this persona that Miranda let it out completely.
It turned Andy on like crazy.
"Wider," Miranda snapped, flicking the crop against Andy's thigh. She widened her legs and peered at Miranda, feeling juices sliding down the curves of her ass as she repositioned.
Miranda used the riding crop to instruct Andy to place her feet on the bed and Andy did as she was told, watching her lover intently.
Waiting.
"Reach your hand between your legs," Miranda commanded.
Andy whimpered and obeyed, her body aching, arching up against her hand.
Miranda snapped the crop again, eliciting another cry from Andy. "Keep still. Don't move without my permission."
"Oh, Miranda - please," Andy begged. The mere sight of Miranda had brought her to the brink, and the light touch of her own fingers between her thighs was nearly enough to tip her over.
"No." Andy caught the glint in Miranda's eyes and gulped. She closed her eyes, breathing heavily, trying to retain her last vestiges of control.
"Open your eyes," Miranda demanded, following her order with a smack of the riding crop. "I want those fine eyes watching me."
With great effort, Andy opened her eyes and watched as Miranda flexed the riding crop between her hands. The Austen reference would normally have made her smile, but Miranda slinked her hand down and was playing with the button of her garter and Andy was rendered momentarily dumb. She watched, wide-eyed, as Miranda's slim fingers circled the clasp, teasing around the lace before unsnapping it with a quick flick of her wrist. Her fingers twitched.
"Do. Not. Move. Andrea." The other garter was unhooked.
"I--I didn't--"
"Are you contradicting me?"
"No, Miranda." The crop clapped against her hip. Andy whimpered and shook as she kept her hips from jerking against her hand.
"Circle your clit. Once."
Andy did, crying out as she touched herself. Her clit throbbed, aching, desperate. She was so close. She knew that Miranda was not oblivious to this fact. "Please...Miranda, please...I..ohh"
"Use your words, Andrea. What are you pleading me for?" Miranda passed her fingertips lightly along Andy's thighs, the caress barely touching her flesh.
"Please let me come!" Her request came out as a shriek as Miranda's fingers brushed over her own, the whisper of a touch grazing her sex. Her eyelids fluttered.
"You already came, what was it? Twice today? You fucked yourself in your office. I just went down on you. Why should I let you come again?" Her tone was indifferent, though Andy could tell by the large heaving of her chest that she was just as turned on.
"Because I can't - I can't," she panted. "I can't resist you, Miranda. I can't get enough of you - look what you do to me. You've hardly touched me, but - look!"
Miranda sniffed - she was the one supposed to be giving the orders here - but looked all the same. Andy's eyes were clenched firmly closed again and she was panting like she'd run a marathon. A sheen of sweat reflected the soft light of the bedside lamp, accentuating the young woman's curves. Miranda felt the pounding between her own thighs increase sharply - she loved seeing Andy like this - naked, spread wide open for her, begging, helpless, swollen and soaking wet. She drew in a shuddering breath. "And why, Andrea, should I relieve you?"
"Miranda, please!"
A soft, low moan slipped from Miranda's lips as she withdrew her hand, realizing just how close Andy was, and pushing Andy's own arm away with the riding crop, she sank to her knees, brushing her lips ever-so-lightly across her lover's slit.
"Ooooh!" Andy's thighs jerked, her foot nearly slipping off the bed. She clutched at the bedspread, her knuckles whitening with the tightness of her grasp. "Please! I---I can't l-last---ooh!"
Miranda blew her breath against her. Andy choked out a strangled cry, her head tossed back in pleasurable anguish.
"Watch. Me." Miranda drawled slowly, her voice low, commanding. Her voice, in this octave, was pure sex.
With great difficulty, Andy opened her eyes and stared at her lover. Miranda licked her lips and Andy shook. "P--plea--Aaaah!"
Miranda's tongue swept broadly over Andy's clit, flicking and circling and sucking and nibbling. Andy thrashed, arched her hips, and came so hard that she nearly lost consciousness.
Several minutes later, Andy blinked her eyes open, not realizing that she had shut them. Miranda was sitting beside her, her stilettos abandoned, soothing her hair and watching her lover as she settled back into reality. "Oh my God."
Miranda smirked and kissed her, humming against Andy's mouth. "Turn over."
"That was--wait, what?"
"Oh, did you think we were finished?"
Andy blinked. "I--I mean--I don't think I--"
"You can. And you will. Now get on all fours."
And, just like that, despite her entire body feeling boneless and thoroughly satiated, a dull pang of arousal settled between her legs.
Trembling, Andy did as she was instructed.
"You begged me to start this, Andrea, did you think you wouldn't have to beg me to stop?"
Andy jaw dropped, releasing a low moan, knees almost buckling at the suggestion.
"Hold still, my dear," Miranda said, deceptively gently, as she teased the tongue of the crop up the inside of Andy's thighs once more.
Andy groaned, her arms shaking as they worked to support her weight. She had no idea how her body would be able to sustain another orgasm. She'd never been multi-orgasmic before, not until Miranda. Until Miranda suggested that they weren't finished, Andy would have been quite content to curl into a ball and fall asleep. But now, with the promise of something more...
She swallowed, waiting, as Miranda stroked the leather along her backside.
Miranda tsked. "Poor little Andrea. Look at these thighs, this ass...You've been very bad indeed."
"I wish I could say I'm sorry," Andy lipped, dropping her forearms onto the bed.
Miranda smacked her hard, the sting causing Andy to moan. "You'll never learn, will you?"
"Nope."
Miranda threw the crop down beside Andy's arm and brushed her own nylon and lace-encased legs against her hips. "I hope not." She gyrated against her, moving as if there were music playing, teasing Andy's red thighs with the scratchy material. "Andrea?"
"Yes, Miranda?"
"You may need to call out of work tomorrow." Miranda shuffled back.
Andy paused, holding her breath.
"I'm going to fuck you out of commission," Miranda said, driving three fingers hard inside of Andy's scorching sex.
Andy screamed. She lasted only seconds before the next orgasm hit her, crying out Miranda's name as she clenched around her fingers, collapsing to the bed, gasping for air.
But Miranda didn't relent, flipping Andy over on the bed and leaning over her, laving her breasts with her tongue, drawing her lover's nipple into her mouth and alternately sucking and nipping as the younger woman writhed beneath her.
"M- Mi - Mi -" Andy sobbed, unable to finish, tears running from the corners of her eyes as her whole body shook. "Please!" She pushed her lover away, scrambling unconsciously up the bed, seeking a reprieve, still feeling Miranda's hands all over her. "No, no, no -" she chanted as Miranda moved closer. "Miranda, I can't-"
"Sssh," Miranda soothed, taking Andy into her arms and kissing her gently. "You did very well, my dear."
"Jesus, Miranda..." Andy said breathlessly, dropping a hand to her chest to feel the pounding of her heart. She glanced at Miranda. The older woman sat primly, a smile playing at the edges of her mouth.
"Are you well sated?"
"Are you kidding me?" Andy rolled her eyes, giving Miranda her best impersonation. Miranda shook her head and reached behind her to work at the hooks of the corset. Andy struggled to sit up as she said, "Here, let me help--"
"Nonsense." Miranda proved that assistance was not required when, several seconds later, she tossed the corset to the floor. "Aaah."
Andy blinked several times, once again breathless at the sight of Miranda's breasts on display before her. Her fingers lazily traced circles around her still-rigid nipples and skimmed down the red impressions of the boning from the corset. She could almost feel the heat emanating from Miranda's aroused sex, but she seemed frozen, unable to reciprocate. "Miranda."
"Hmm?" Blue eyes focused on brown.
"'You pierce my soul.'"
Miranda smiled. "I think I prefer Miss Bennet to Captain Wentworth."
Andy gaped. "You know Persuasion?"
Miranda shrugged. "I'm familiar with it."
The brunette sat up and placed a large, wet kiss on her lover's mouth. "Miranda Priestly is a secret Jane Austen aficionado!"
"I wouldn't go that far."
"Mmm, I would."
"That may be so," Miranda said, pressing Andy back onto the mattress, "and we can argue the details later. That is, unless you'd prefer to talk about classic literature instead of eating me out while I straddle your face."
"Well..." Andy began, seemingly deep in thought. "Austen is considered one of the greatest- oh!"
Miranda had removed her panties and reclined back against the bed, idly teasing her fingers between her legs. "What? By all means, Andrea, continue your analysis of Austen's work - it is fascinating, let me assure you. I'm sure you won't mind at all if I entertain myself just a little as you speak."
With renewed energy, Andy pushed Miranda's hand out of the way. "Gimme that!" As much as Andy loved what Miranda could do to her, she enjoyed returning the favor just as much. She sank down over her lover's thighs, driving her tongue deep inside her three times in quick succession before emerging to lick and suck at her clit, delighted as Miranda shuddered beneath her, eyes firmly closed, unable to suppress a moan.
"Oh God, you're so wet," Andy murmured against Miranda's thigh. "You love it, don't you, Miranda? Watching me, tasting me, making me break apart? You pretend to be so calm, cool and in control, but on the inside, you can hardly stand it - hardly stand making me wait, keeping your hands off me, making me beg for it - can you, Miranda?" Miranda whimpered as Andy trailed her fingers lightly up Miranda's slit, teasing them just inside her entrance before pulling away.
Andy turned her attention to her lover's neck, licking, sucking and nipping, finding every sensitive spot - behind Miranda's ear, along her jaw line, down her collarbone - as Miranda tried to regulate her breathing, tried to lay still, try to conceal that she was just as desperate for this as Andy had been only minutes earlier. But Andy knew, and she knew how to break the older woman's control. She cupped Miranda's breasts, drawing her nipples alternately into her mouth, circling them with her tongue, as Miranda arched her back and cried out her name.
Miranda's heels dug into the bed as she arched into Andy's mouth, her nails digging harshly into her shoulders. Clearly Miranda's BDSM mood hadn't entirely passed and Andy reveled in this deliciously kinky side of her lover. She'd never been particularly masochistic before; well, perhaps she had been, considering how long she stayed at Runway. And, she supposed, considering how hard and how often she came when Miranda decided to get a little rough. She'd have bruises in the morning. Her ass would hurt to sit on. She may also have visible scratches on her back.
It would be enough to fuel her daydreaming fantasies for weeks.
Andy grinned into Miranda's breast, sucking the puckered nipple into her mouth as Miranda's nylon-clad legs hooked around her waist, drawing her closer.
Andy hummed in pleasure before sliding upwards, seeking her lover's mouth, moaning softly once she found her destination. Miranda kissed her wholeheartedly, drawing Andy closer, sliding her tongue deep into Andy's mouth, sucking and nipping at her lips, always seeking more - demanding it. Even when Miranda tried to resist her body's subconscious reactions, her kisses always gave away the depth of her desire. Oh, how Andy loved kissing Miranda. She could tell everything about Miranda by a single kiss.
Andy slid her fingers through Miranda's hair and smiled against her lips. Miranda pulled back, arching her eyebrow in silent question.
"'You have bewitched me, body and soul,'" Andy said dreamily.
"That may be so, my dear, but don't become too romantic on me now. There may not have been explicit sex in your Austen novels, but let me assure you, it was there."
Andy gasped. "There was no sex in Pride and Prejudice!"
"I'll show you later... but I trust you recall what I said about literary criticism in the bedroom? I can entertain myself if I have to." Miranda's eyes glinted dangerously as she slid her hand down her thigh, never breaking eye contact with Andy. Andy's jaw dropped and she hung in indecision for a long moment, but then she grabbed Miranda's wrists and pinned them over her head, dragging her tongue oh-so-slowly down her lover's body, proving that no solo entertainment would be required that evening.
Andy knew, as she circled her tongue around Miranda's navel, that the older woman had to be close. She'd picked up on bodily responses through the years, knowing exactly what proved that a climax was imminent: her thighs shook, her eyes darkened, her breathing became a rough pant. However, nothing made it more obvious that Miranda was about to come than the woman's actual verbal admission. It wouldn't take much, Andy knew; she was surprised that Miranda was resisting with so great an effort.
"I've got it all under control," Andy muttered, her nose nuzzling the tuft of silver curls. She kissed the damp, musky hair, following this by placing soft kisses down Miranda's slit.
Miranda hissed.
Andy rolled her tongue along the wet folds, lapping at Miranda's arousal and moaning her enjoyment into Miranda's body. Miranda's hips jerked.
She teasingly circled her tongue around Miranda's clit. "You may need to call in sick tomorrow too…" Andy flicked her tongue over the nub quickly before circling once again. "Can you imagine? Miranda Priestly taking a sick day because her lover fucked her into a coma?"
Miranda let out a long moan, sounding aroused almost to the point of pain.
"I... do not... take sick days," Miranda panted.
"Oh really?" Andy asked innocently, pulling her mouth away and tracing her finger over the lacy tops of Miranda's stockings. "So you'll wobble into Runway in your Christian Lou's, hardly able to walk, because you can still feel me right here between your legs?" Andy's finger traced the path and Miranda shook with the effort it took to keep still. Andy's voice dropped an octave as she whispered against Miranda's thigh "How many do you want tonight, Miranda?"
Miranda moaned and without waiting for a further response, Andy slid two fingers deep inside Miranda, curling them upwards, and Miranda bucked hard against her hand, wanting to feel more, always more. Andy soothed her lover, kissing and stroking her hips and thighs, stilling Miranda before sliding in a third finger. Miranda cried out and arched her back, grabbing blindly at Andy, finally giving in to her desire.
Miranda spread her thighs further, hooking a leg over Andy's shoulder. She tangled her fingers in Andy's hair, pulling the damp brown locks as she undulated her hips in time with the thrusting of Andy's fingers. Her scalp stung as Miranda tugged but the shriek that Miranda emitted as she twisted her fingers was enough to distract her from the pain.
Andy laved at Miranda's clit, pretense and teasing forgotten, as she drove her fingers hard into Miranda's gushing sex. Miranda dug her heel into her back, tugged at her hair, and threw her head back into the pillow as she swore loudly.
"I'm -- I -- oooh God -- Aaaah!"
A surge of moisture coated Andy's hand as Miranda came, her inner-walls clenching like a vice around her fingers. Her hips rocked, riding out each glorious wave of pleasure that tore throughout her body.
Andy slid up the bed and held Miranda close as her shaking subsided. She twined their legs together, nylon brushing against her skin. She loved these moments, when they were both worn out and sated, wanting nothing more than just to hold each other. She stroked her fingers through Miranda's hair, kissing her gently on the cheek.
"Happy?" she asked.
"Mmm... you have a very good notion of fingering, my dear Andrea," Miranda murmured.
Andy grinned at the Austen quote. "Well, Miranda, what do I play next? My fingers wait your orders."
-End-
Author: ubiquitousmixie and ellipsisoveruse
Rating: NC-17…seriously.
Fandom: The Devil Wears Prada
Pairing: Miranda/Andy
Disclaimer: Miranda and Andy belong to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox…lucky bastards. We just borrowed them, as we are under the belief that Miranda and Andy are in need of multiple orgasms…
Summary: A typical night at the Priestly/Sachs residence…
Author's Note: Well, our busy little fingers were at it again. We bring to you another fun, sexy Mirandy smutfest. Special thanks to Good Vibrations and Agent Provocateur for having…fun merchandise. The graphic was made by ellipsisoveruse. We hope you enjoy!
Please comment! Comments are LOVE (and comments are great motivators to keep us writing…*wink*)
---
Andy sighed happily as her eyes danced across the page, avidly soaking in every word. She was no longer lying on her stomach in her bedroom; instead, she was transported into the world of Jane Austen and was thoroughly enjoying every minute of it.
So immersed was Andy that she didn't hear the bedroom door open and was pulled from her mental revelry by the unceremonious clap of The Book hitting the bedside table.
"Are you reading that drivel again?" Miranda asked, shrugging her Chanel blazer from her shoulders and tossing it on a nearby chair.
Andy gasped in mock horror, sitting up as she clutched Pride and Prejudice to her chest. "Jane Austen is not drivel! She is one of the most talented writers…EVER!"
Miranda rolled her eyes. "How many times have you read that now? In three years--"
"It's a classic, Miranda. Don't knock it till you've tried it."
"I tried it in high school. That was more than enough for me."
Andy fell back onto the bed with an exaggerated sigh. "You are missing out. This book…it's so romantic."
"Oh yes," Miranda drawled as she unzipped her skirt and stepped out of it, placing it with her blazer and blouse that she had discarded moments ago, "thwarted love affairs based on stuck up rich men and women of a lower class…" Her voice trailed off when she noticed Andy's raised brow. She rolled her eyes.
"You are so my Mr. Darcy," Andy said, dropping the book on the bed. "And I'm your Elizabeth Bennet."
"Does the book take place in a mental asylum?" Miranda slipped on her gray bathrobe.
Andy laughed and slid her arms around Miranda's neck. "'You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,'" Andy quoted, kissing Miranda softly.
Miranda's arms curled around Andy's waist. "Isn't that supposed to be my line?"
A smile lit up the brunette's face. "Hey! You so know this book better than you are letting on!"
Miranda shook her head dismissively. "So it would seem. May I take my bath now?"
Andy kissed her again. "Only if I can join you."
"So long as you wash my back," Miranda complied, her lips murmuring softly against Andy's.
"You can count on that, love."
"Are we going to talk about this all night, or actually do it?"
Andy kissed Miranda's nose before grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the bathroom. "Oh, we're going to do it."
Once in the bathroom, Andy set to work filling the tub with steaming water and jasmine bath salts while Miranda removed her make up. Andy sat on the edge of the tub, watching her lover as she carefully washed away the face that Runway knew so well. Underneath the expensive products was the complex, misunderstood woman that Andy loved more than she was able to completely comprehend.
Miranda blinked several times as she noticed Andy staring at her through the mirror. "What?"
"Nothin'. You're just perty."
"Come here."
Andy obeyed, crossing the short distance between them. Miranda spun around and enveloped the younger woman in her arms, kissing her deeply, intently.
"Mmm...long day?"
"Unbearably." Miranda sighed, resting her forehead on Andy's shoulder. "I've been waiting for this all day."
Andy kissed the crown of her head, soft, silver strands tickling her nose. "Me too." She peered back over her shoulder. "Bath's almost full."
Miranda held her for several more moments before letting Andy slip away and turn off the taps. Steam swirled invitingly over the surface. When Andy turned, she caught her breath as Miranda slipped out of her bathrobe, her burgundy lingerie shortly following. Andy licked her lips as Miranda stepped forward.
"You're overdressed."
Andy shivered as Miranda stripped her of her tank top, gym shorts, and cotton panties. Slipping her hand behind Miranda's neck, she pulled her in for a slow, deep kiss, her tongue stroking against the velvety softness of Miranda's mouth. Miranda emitted a low groan, shifting her body against Andy's before pulling away and stepping into the spacious tub. Andy soon followed, settling between Miranda's spread legs, her back pressed flush with Miranda's front. Miranda curled her arms around Andy's waist and both women sighed in content.
They sat in silence for several minutes, eyes closed, allowing the steaming water to relax their minds and bodies. Andy's head rested on her lover's shoulder, but she tilted her head back and looked up when she heard Miranda sigh deeply.
"Is everything okay?"
Miranda smiled fondly, brushing Andy's bangs out of her eyes. "Oh yes. I'm just glad to be home."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Miranda shook her head. "I can think of other things I'd rather do."
A slow smile spread across Andy's face. Twisting in Miranda's lap, she finally came face to face with the woman she loved, wrapping her legs around Miranda's waist, running her fingers through her hair, and drawing her in for a deep kiss.
"That's better," Miranda murmured into the kiss.
Miranda's tongue teased along Andy's bottom lip before she worried it gently between her teeth. Andy whimpered before slanting her mouth once more over the older woman's, indulging in an unhurried kiss that left them panting and squirming against each other.
"You are exquisite," Miranda whispered against Andy's throat.
"So are you. And then some."
Miranda looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "Always have to one up me, don't you?"
Andy grinned. "You are impossible to outdo in 98% of all situations. I'll take my successes where I can." To Andy's surprise, even after three years of companionship, Miranda smiled. "Lean your head back."
Miranda did as she was told and Andy prided herself at how easy it was to command Miranda Priestly to do something. She placed a soft kiss on Miranda's elongated throat as she dipped her hair back into the water, soaking it thoroughly. Andy reached for the bottle of expensive shampoo and poured some into her palm while Miranda sat back up. Miranda's eyes flashed with anticipation.
Andy kissed Miranda lightly on the lips once more, then slid around behind her - easy enough in the ample tub. Her long fingers quickly worked the rich shampoo into a thick lather against Miranda's scalp, breathing in the light lavender scent. She'd been surprised, all those years ago, to learn of Miranda's love for simple things, but she understood it now: Miranda's life was absorbed almost completely by the ever-changing, complex, detailed world of fashion, and though Miranda loved it, keeping up with it all was exhausting - so it was no surprise that, in the minute and hidden details of her personal life, Miranda preferred simplicity.
And Andy loved it. No one but she would ever associate lavender with Miranda Priestly - by the time Miranda had finished her morning routine complete with hairspray, makeup and perfume, the scent was long gone, but to Andy, it was the scent of intimate early morning showers, of lazy Saturdays when the twins were at their father's, of vacations in obscure places where no one would recognize them. It was the scent of the real Miranda, the woman beneath the designer clothing and expensive makeup, rarely seen, but infinitely more precious than the façade.
She sighed happily, closing her eyes as her fingers massaged Miranda's temples. "I love you, Miranda," she breathed.
Miranda let out a long sigh at Andy's ministrations and, her voice low, "I love you too, Andrea."
Butterflies tickled within the depths of Andy's abdomen. It never ceased to amaze her to hear those words. It still felt so surreal - this life, this love. She cherished every moment. Scraping her nails in lazy circles around Miranda's scalp, she worked in the shampoo until a light foam covered the woman's head. Andy grinned, remembering one particularly silly Sunday morning when Miranda playfully allowed Andy to shape the shampooed hair into various positions. Her favorite had been the mohawk. Miranda would be hot as a biker chick. A biker chick with a whip. She swallowed, imagining her lover in tight leather. She'd have to make a mental note of that.
"Lean back."
Miranda did as she was told and it was with great care that Andy cradled Miranda's head and shook her fingers through the damp strands of hair, shaking the shampoo out into the water. She sat her up and began to repeat the process with the lavender conditioner.
"The twins are making us dinner tomorrow," Andy said, using the pads of her fingers to work in the conditioner. She paid extra attention behind Miranda's ears and at the nape of her neck.
"Mmm...that sounds lovely. What are they making?"
"They said it was a surprise. I'm rooting for chocolate chip pancakes myself."
"Breakfast for dinner," Miranda scowled, dipping her head back into the water once more. "Of all things."
"Awe, come on, babe. Breakfast is amazing."
"Yes. At the appropriate hour."
Andy pouted. "You're no fun."
Miranda sat back up, pushing her wet hair back against her head. "Is that so?"
Andy forced her lower lip to tremble as she nodded.
"I'll show you just how fun I can be." As the words left Miranda's mouth, her lips latched onto one of Andy's dusky pink, puckered nipples.
Andy moaned, arching back into Miranda's touch, while Miranda ran her fingers up and down Andy's sides. Andy giggled and squirmed, having always been ticklish, then suddenly slipped down until she was laying beneath Miranda, the older woman's reflexes luckily fast enough to support Andy's head before it went beneath the water. They were still for a moment, hearts pounding at the shock, blue eyes meeting brown, until Miranda moaned softly and bent to take Andy's mouth with her own.
"God...you're amazing," Andy sighed, tangling her fingers in Miranda's damp hair. Miranda replied with a muffled moan as she repositioned them. Andy yelped as her back pressed against the side of the tub and the cool tile above it, but before she could complain about her discomfort, Miranda lifted her so that Andy was straddling her, her mouth immediately fastening to the smooth patch of skin between her breasts.
Andy breathed heavily as she watched Miranda's hands toy with her breasts, cupping and squeezing and rolling their heaviness against her palms. Miranda nipped at her flesh before kissing her way around the swell of her left breast, teasing around her taut nipple with her index finger. She licked her lips, arching her back slightly as Miranda's tongue began to circle the rigid peak. She could feel a surge of moisture settling between her legs and she cried out when Miranda began to lick at her nipple, flicking at it in the same way she did with her clit when she went down on her. Andy could almost feel the motions at the apex of her thighs and she moaned, closing her eyes as she rested her head back against the tile.
Andy's head spun, her body teeming with want, as Miranda switched breasts, following the same teasing path. "Oooh...Miranda..." She shifted against her lover and choked back a moan when Miranda's hand dropped beneath the water, sliding over the curve of her waist, across the slope of her thigh, before cupping her sex. She angled her hips against Miranda's hand, biting her lip as Miranda rolled her nipple against her teeth while her fingers began to softly stroke against her.
Miranda's movements were unhurried as her fingers swept over her clit and then down to her entrance. Her index finger teased at her opening, flicking over the sensitive flesh with her fingernail before stroking across her perineum. She repeated her path several times, increasing pressure at each pass. Andy squirmed and sighed, whispering her lover's name like a mantra.
Miranda returned to her mouth, kissing her hard, as two fingers began to slowly slide inside of her. Andy's hips jerked and she attempted to control herself, her mind vaguely aware of the water sloshing at her sides. With her free hand, Miranda's fingers began to manipulate her clit, rolling it between her thumb and index finger, dragging it in and out of its protective hood.
Andy moaned, her fingers digging into Miranda's shoulders as she attempted to remember the last time she had felt this amazing.
"My God, Andrea," Miranda breathed, breaking the kiss to look into her lover's eyes, but never breaking the rhythm of her fingers. "I've been wanting this all day."
Andy's eyes were closed, eyelashes fanning over her cheeks, lips parted in a silent cry, when Miranda suddenly pulled away. Andy whimpered, blinking in confusion.
"I want -" Miranda faltered. "I need -" Her eyes were wild, raking over Andy's body. "Get out," she commanded.
"But, Miranda...?" Andy asked, hurt, even as she climbed out of the bathtub, but Miranda shook her head.
Andy sighed. She was used to Miranda's mood swings, but they weren't usually this sudden. She reached for a thick bath sheet, back to the older woman, not trusting herself to look at her right now.
Then suddenly she was grabbed roughly from behind, spun around and pressed up against the wall. "Oh God," Miranda moaned into her mouth, kissing her deeply. Pulling back, looking into her lover's large brown eyes, Miranda murmured hoarsely "I want to feel you come," then dropped to her knees between her lover's legs, "with my tongue".
Andy's eyes opened wider, then snapped closed again.
She shivered -- the cold air against her wet body and Miranda's tongue lapping against her --and clutched Miranda's shoulders.
Miranda hungrily ate her, her tongue pulsating against her lower lips, slipping between and grazing her clit. Andy cried out, her head spinning. She should be used to this by now; Miranda often started slowly but it was as if a dam broke within her, an unbridled need forcing her to taste and touch as much as possible. Andy was not one to complain, especially as Miranda's tongue became pointed and stiff, flicking back and forth over her nub. Andy shrieked.
"Ooohh...Oh God...Mir---uuuhhn..Mmmm.."
Miranda paused briefly and with great difficulty, Andy looked down, her eyes widening when she noticed Miranda furiously fucking her own hand. Andy screamed, coming hard against Miranda's mouth. Miranda's climax came only moment after, the older woman nuzzling her head against Andy's hips as she humped her hand through each wave of delicious pleasure.
Both women's breathing was hard and deep. Andy shivered again, goosebumps embellishing her flesh. "Come on, babe. Let's get back in the tub." She held out her hand and helped Miranda up.
This time, Andy stepped in first, allowing Miranda to settle between her legs. Her cheeks were flushed, her breath still quick. Andy beamed; Miranda Priestly was gorgeous in the afterglow of an orgasm. The water had cooled significantly. With her toes, Andy pulled the stopper and turned on the hot water tap.
"Aaaah," Miranda sighed as steamy water kissed her skin. "Perfect."
Andy kissed her temple, replacing the stopper and turning off the water. As the women settled into the now hot water, Andy's hands caressed the smooth planes of Miranda's stomach. She cupped Miranda's breasts, languorously toying with her nipples. Miranda's only response was to shift against her and sigh.
Andy reached behind her, grabbing a bright yellow Rubber Ducky off the ledge. As soon as she twisted the base and the small plastic toy began to hum, Miranda groaned.
"Not that vile little thing again. I thought I got rid of it."
Andy giggled, positioning the small vibrator against Miranda's abdomen. "Nope. Come on. You love it."
Miranda sniffed indignantly. Andy grinned. She knew that Miranda would never admit that a vibrator shaped like a childhood toy would get her off, but she knew that she secretly loved it. As Andy slipped the ducky lower, rubbing it up and down the length of Miranda's lips, Miranda moaned.
"Relax, Miranda," Andy said, her voice low and silky, just the way she knew Miranda liked it. She teased the vibrator across Miranda's swollen, wet folds, nudging the rubber toy against her clit. Miranda gasped, arching her hips into the buzzing toy.
"Open yourself up for me."
Miranda obeyed and, though Andy couldn't see, she could feel Miranda's fingers parting herself. Andy twisted the ducky in her hand, using the round, bulbous head of the toy to circle around the hood of Miranda's clit, teasing her. She paid particular attention to the spot just to the left of the bud and Miranda let out a throaty moan.
"Mmmm..."
Andy licked at the lobe of Miranda's ear, blowing gently against it as she pressed the vibrator into Miranda's clit. She lifted it, just barely touching her, before pressing it down again. Miranda grabbed at Andy's knee with her free hand, arching her back, elongating her throat over Andy's shoulder.
"Ooooh...uh..fuck..."
"Yes, baby...that's it...come for me..."
"I...I hate...unh...this goddamned...tooooy."
Miranda's orgasm hit hard. She shrieked loudly and then cried out, "Andreaaaaaa!"
Andy held her breath as she watched her lover climax, sucking on Miranda's neck as Miranda's chest rose out of the water, her breasts jutting proudly into the air. Water sloshed at the sides of the tub as Miranda's convulsions began to subside and, several long moments later, Miranda pushed the rubber ducky away from her and slumped against her lover.
"Remind me again how this happened?" Miranda moaned, the soft smile on her face taking the edge off her words.
"You just couldn't resist me," Andy grinned.
"Hmm, yes. Despite your low connections."
"What?" Andy demanded. "Miranda, I know I don't come from money -"
"Oh, your uncle in Cheapside, your sister running all over London with that Wickham character like a little floozy..." Miranda's eyes twinkled.
Andy beamed and, pulling Miranda's head back against her shoulder, kissed her soundly.
"I love you, Mr. Darcy."
Miranda rolled her eyes. "You'd better behave yourself, Miss Bennet!" Then, stretching up to whisper in Andy's ear, breath hot against her lover's cheek, "otherwise I might have to get that riding crop out again and teach you a little lesson."
Andy squeaked, her eyes widening. "Oh my God." She swallowed. "You know, I've been a very bad girl..."
Miranda raised an eyebrow. "So I see. Begging to be spanked is not befitting of a genteel daughter of an English aristocrat, you know."
"Even Elizabeth Bennet was naughty....flirting and teasing guys...walking miles just to see her sister..."
"Speaking out to that Lady What's-Her-Name..."
"Lady Catherine!"
"Aah, yes. I liked her character."
Andy laughed. "You would."
Miranda pursed her lips. "Nothing wrong with appreciating a woman who respects social order."
"Like you give a rat's ass about social order."
Miranda opened her mouth to protest but Andy hushed her with a kiss. "Hun, you're naked with another woman half your age."
Miranda huffed. "Men do this sort of thing all the time. I don't see why I should be any different."
"Exactly. Screw social order. But you know, Lady Catherine did appreciate Lizzy's fingering...on the piano, anyway."
"And so she should."
"Mmhmm....now...about that riding crop..."
Miranda spun around onto her knees, hands against the wall on each side of Andy's shoulders, effectively pinning her in place. Their faces were almost touching as Miranda leaned over her lover, eyes glinting darkly. "Is that what you want, Andrea?" she drawled. "You want things... a little rougher?"
Andy nodded, speechless, heart pounding, heat pooling between her thighs once more.
Miranda closed the gap between them, sliding her tongue into Andy's mouth, tangling her fingers in the younger woman's hair. "Be careful what you wish for."
Andy squirmed, unable to believe how ready she was for whatever Miranda might have in mind. She licked against Miranda's mouth and shivered.
After three years, Miranda Priestly never ceased to thrill her.
"You're insatiable," Miranda purred, biting Andy's bottom lip. She sucked and then sank her teeth a little harder. "Who knew my lover was a raging nymphomaniac."
"Hello, pot."
"I did not ask you a question," Miranda said, nibbling at Andy's throat. "I'm getting out of the bath now. Clean things up in here and when you are finished, I expect to find you bending over the bed. Do not get dressed"
"Where are you--"
Miranda raised an eyebrow, silencing her lover. She stood, slowly, keeping her eyes fastened to Andy's. Water dripped down her body, sliding over luscious curves. Andy's mouth went dry. Wrapping herself in a towel, Miranda disappeared.
Andy splashed water on her face before tidying the shampoo, conditioner, and tucking the Rubber Ducky away lest the twins stumble upon it. She pulled the stopper and as the water circled the drain, she stepped out of the bathtub and dried herself off. She drew her damp hair into a loose bun, clipping it at the nape of her neck. She stared at her reflection, already noting the change that had taken over the atmosphere of the evening.
What had started as a sensual, relaxing night was going to take a much different turn.
Miranda was right; it was a complete shock that Andy would be so eager to do anything, everything, with her lover in a moment's notice. She'd never been like this with anyone. It was much less surprising that Miranda's demeanor could take such a turn; she exhibited such displays in her moods every day but this -- this infused Andy with curiosity, lust, and awe. Miranda Priestly couldn't get enough of her, and this fact gave her a renewed sense of worth and purpose.
Andy exited the bathroom, frowning upon finding that the bedroom was still empty. She walked over to the bed and, after moving her Austen novel to the nightstand, bent over the bed, her forearms flat on the mattress.
She felt exposed. She sighed and shifted her legs, already feeling her sex swelling with moisture and need.
A noise behind her drew her attention. She turned her head, glancing over her shoulder. Her knees buckled.
Miranda stood at the door of the walk-in closet, her hair swept back, her right hand smacking a black riding crop against her left palm. Andy couldn't help but gape as she took in the sight of her lover. Four-inch Christian Louboutins adorned her feet. Andy swallowed. She loved those shoes; they were black and the soles were blood red. Black stockings encased her legs, clasped at her thighs to a black gartered Agent Provocateur corset. The satin garment was paired with a pair of black panties which, Andy knew, would expose a great deal of her lover's ass. The corset pushed her breasts together, her cleavage high and full.
"Oh my God," Andy sighed.
"I didn't give you permission to look at me. Turn your head."
Andy swept her eyes over Miranda's form once more before she pressed her forehead to the mattress.
"Where does this stamina of yours come from, Andrea?" Miranda asked, the tapping of the leather beating in a steady rhythm against her palm.
"You."
Miranda smacked the riding crop against her ass. "Excuse me?"
Andy whimpered. "Um. I mean…'you, Miranda.'"
"Am I unsatisfying, Andrea?"
Andy yelped as she felt the riding crop tickling the back of her knees, tracing lazy lines up and down each of her thighs. "God no, Miranda!"
"Hmm." Miranda tapped the riding crop softly against the soft ivory flesh of her ass. "That's surprising."
Andy opened her mouth but snapped it closed. She held her breath, waiting for Miranda to continue.
"I went down on you not more than an hour ago, and now you're already a quivering mess? What explanation do you have for this?"
"I can't get enough of you…I've never been able to…"
"Apparently," Miranda drawled, touching the riding crop against her lower lips.
Andy groaned, pushing back against the leather as it dragged against her wetness.
Andy whimpered as Miranda withdrew the crop. "You said you've been very bad, Andrea."
Andy took a deep breath and nodded, gasping as Miranda dragged the tongue of the crop down her spine.
"Tell me."
"I -" Andy's breath drew in sharply as Miranda ran the crop up the inside of her thigh - "I think about you. All the time. All the things I want to do to you."
"All the things?" Andy fancied that Miranda's voice sounded a little higher.
"Oh, yes, Miranda. I think about coming into Runway, interrupting a meeting, sending everyone out of your office-" The crop paused. "Everyone would know what was happening, but I wouldn't care. You wouldn't care either, because you'd want it so badly. I'd push you down onto your desk and slide my tongue against you, and you'd be so wet, so ready. Begging for it..."
The crop flicked sharply against Andy's thigh, and even Miranda seemed surprised. She cleared her throat. "What else, Andrea?"
The sting of the leather tingled pleasantly over her thigh and she groaned. "Oh…I think about you all the time at the paper…I can't get you out of my head…I'll be sitting at my desk and I'll be picturing your face and your body. I get so fucking wet, Miranda…OH!"
At the admission, Miranda snapped the riding crop against her ass. Andy's hips jerked as she cried out. "Go on," Miranda ordered, her voice hoarse. "Tell me how you've been bad."
"Today at work I couldn't get the image of you in your suit out of my head…I was so wet…I slipped off my shoe and curled my leg on the chair and I rubbed the heel of my foot against myself…AAH!"
Miranda slapped the crop hard against the opposite cheek, her own moan mixing with Andy's. "You got off, didn't you? With all of those people around you?" When Andy didn't respond, she smacked her again. "Didn't you?"
"Oh! Yes! Yes, Miranda, I did…I couldn't help myself…"
"Couldn't help putting yourself on display for the entire office?"
Smack.
"N-n-no. No one noticed. Most people were on assignment, covering the riots. I was quiet…so quiet. You know how quiet I can be, Miranda. No one would have known."
Slap.
"Mmmm….oh God…you never knew, did you?"
"Knew what?"
The crop came down on her ass once again. Andy could only imagine how red it was becoming.
"How many times I got off when I was your assistant…when you were in the room, or only a few feet away."
Andy cried out when the crop tapped against her sex.
"Is that so?"
"You know it is. My panties have been soaked every goddamned day since I've met you."
Miranda choked back a whimper at Andy's admission and dragged the tongue of the crop along her slit. Andy cried out, arching into the contact. Miranda stepped closer, pressing her thighs against her lover's, and, reaching down, she allowed her fingers to follow the path of the crop.
Andy was breathing heavily, overwhelmed by sensation. Miranda's other hand, and most of her weight, rested upon Andy's lower back, holding her still. Miranda continued to tease her, tickling her fingers along her slit, sliding her fingers just inside before pulling them away and starting again.
"You just cannot control yourself when I'm around."
"Nope- ahh- no, Miranda. Even just the thought of you, and I- ooh."
Miranda had withdrawn her fingers and tapped Andy sharply on her thigh with the riding crop. "That was not a question, Andrea." Miranda stepped back. "Roll over."
Andy obediently rolled onto her back, gasping once again at the sight of her lover. "Oh, Miranda..." she breathed.
"Spread your legs," Miranda demanded.
Andy did as she was told, parting her thighs. She rested on her elbows, staring at Miranda's cleavage rising against the black corset. The white cream of her skin contrasted gorgeously with the black of the silk. It made Miranda glow. It was almost...ethereal. Andy swallowed. Miranda Priestly stood before her in her "I'm-going-to-make-you-so-fucking-wet-you-will-feel-like-you're-drowning" outfit, wielding a riding crop. If this was Miranda the angel, Andy wasn't sure whether or not she were in heaven or hell.
One thing Andy both loved and hated about Miranda Priestly was how quickly she could don a persona to fit a certain situation. There was Editor-in-Chief Miranda. Mother Miranda. Ex-Wife Miranda. Romantic Miranda. And this....this was a version of Miranda that crept in the undertones of every persona. This was the domineering, controlling part of her. As a mother, an editor, a woman - she liked control. She liked power. But it was in this persona that Miranda let it out completely.
It turned Andy on like crazy.
"Wider," Miranda snapped, flicking the crop against Andy's thigh. She widened her legs and peered at Miranda, feeling juices sliding down the curves of her ass as she repositioned.
Miranda used the riding crop to instruct Andy to place her feet on the bed and Andy did as she was told, watching her lover intently.
Waiting.
"Reach your hand between your legs," Miranda commanded.
Andy whimpered and obeyed, her body aching, arching up against her hand.
Miranda snapped the crop again, eliciting another cry from Andy. "Keep still. Don't move without my permission."
"Oh, Miranda - please," Andy begged. The mere sight of Miranda had brought her to the brink, and the light touch of her own fingers between her thighs was nearly enough to tip her over.
"No." Andy caught the glint in Miranda's eyes and gulped. She closed her eyes, breathing heavily, trying to retain her last vestiges of control.
"Open your eyes," Miranda demanded, following her order with a smack of the riding crop. "I want those fine eyes watching me."
With great effort, Andy opened her eyes and watched as Miranda flexed the riding crop between her hands. The Austen reference would normally have made her smile, but Miranda slinked her hand down and was playing with the button of her garter and Andy was rendered momentarily dumb. She watched, wide-eyed, as Miranda's slim fingers circled the clasp, teasing around the lace before unsnapping it with a quick flick of her wrist. Her fingers twitched.
"Do. Not. Move. Andrea." The other garter was unhooked.
"I--I didn't--"
"Are you contradicting me?"
"No, Miranda." The crop clapped against her hip. Andy whimpered and shook as she kept her hips from jerking against her hand.
"Circle your clit. Once."
Andy did, crying out as she touched herself. Her clit throbbed, aching, desperate. She was so close. She knew that Miranda was not oblivious to this fact. "Please...Miranda, please...I..ohh"
"Use your words, Andrea. What are you pleading me for?" Miranda passed her fingertips lightly along Andy's thighs, the caress barely touching her flesh.
"Please let me come!" Her request came out as a shriek as Miranda's fingers brushed over her own, the whisper of a touch grazing her sex. Her eyelids fluttered.
"You already came, what was it? Twice today? You fucked yourself in your office. I just went down on you. Why should I let you come again?" Her tone was indifferent, though Andy could tell by the large heaving of her chest that she was just as turned on.
"Because I can't - I can't," she panted. "I can't resist you, Miranda. I can't get enough of you - look what you do to me. You've hardly touched me, but - look!"
Miranda sniffed - she was the one supposed to be giving the orders here - but looked all the same. Andy's eyes were clenched firmly closed again and she was panting like she'd run a marathon. A sheen of sweat reflected the soft light of the bedside lamp, accentuating the young woman's curves. Miranda felt the pounding between her own thighs increase sharply - she loved seeing Andy like this - naked, spread wide open for her, begging, helpless, swollen and soaking wet. She drew in a shuddering breath. "And why, Andrea, should I relieve you?"
"Miranda, please!"
A soft, low moan slipped from Miranda's lips as she withdrew her hand, realizing just how close Andy was, and pushing Andy's own arm away with the riding crop, she sank to her knees, brushing her lips ever-so-lightly across her lover's slit.
"Ooooh!" Andy's thighs jerked, her foot nearly slipping off the bed. She clutched at the bedspread, her knuckles whitening with the tightness of her grasp. "Please! I---I can't l-last---ooh!"
Miranda blew her breath against her. Andy choked out a strangled cry, her head tossed back in pleasurable anguish.
"Watch. Me." Miranda drawled slowly, her voice low, commanding. Her voice, in this octave, was pure sex.
With great difficulty, Andy opened her eyes and stared at her lover. Miranda licked her lips and Andy shook. "P--plea--Aaaah!"
Miranda's tongue swept broadly over Andy's clit, flicking and circling and sucking and nibbling. Andy thrashed, arched her hips, and came so hard that she nearly lost consciousness.
Several minutes later, Andy blinked her eyes open, not realizing that she had shut them. Miranda was sitting beside her, her stilettos abandoned, soothing her hair and watching her lover as she settled back into reality. "Oh my God."
Miranda smirked and kissed her, humming against Andy's mouth. "Turn over."
"That was--wait, what?"
"Oh, did you think we were finished?"
Andy blinked. "I--I mean--I don't think I--"
"You can. And you will. Now get on all fours."
And, just like that, despite her entire body feeling boneless and thoroughly satiated, a dull pang of arousal settled between her legs.
Trembling, Andy did as she was instructed.
"You begged me to start this, Andrea, did you think you wouldn't have to beg me to stop?"
Andy jaw dropped, releasing a low moan, knees almost buckling at the suggestion.
"Hold still, my dear," Miranda said, deceptively gently, as she teased the tongue of the crop up the inside of Andy's thighs once more.
Andy groaned, her arms shaking as they worked to support her weight. She had no idea how her body would be able to sustain another orgasm. She'd never been multi-orgasmic before, not until Miranda. Until Miranda suggested that they weren't finished, Andy would have been quite content to curl into a ball and fall asleep. But now, with the promise of something more...
She swallowed, waiting, as Miranda stroked the leather along her backside.
Miranda tsked. "Poor little Andrea. Look at these thighs, this ass...You've been very bad indeed."
"I wish I could say I'm sorry," Andy lipped, dropping her forearms onto the bed.
Miranda smacked her hard, the sting causing Andy to moan. "You'll never learn, will you?"
"Nope."
Miranda threw the crop down beside Andy's arm and brushed her own nylon and lace-encased legs against her hips. "I hope not." She gyrated against her, moving as if there were music playing, teasing Andy's red thighs with the scratchy material. "Andrea?"
"Yes, Miranda?"
"You may need to call out of work tomorrow." Miranda shuffled back.
Andy paused, holding her breath.
"I'm going to fuck you out of commission," Miranda said, driving three fingers hard inside of Andy's scorching sex.
Andy screamed. She lasted only seconds before the next orgasm hit her, crying out Miranda's name as she clenched around her fingers, collapsing to the bed, gasping for air.
But Miranda didn't relent, flipping Andy over on the bed and leaning over her, laving her breasts with her tongue, drawing her lover's nipple into her mouth and alternately sucking and nipping as the younger woman writhed beneath her.
"M- Mi - Mi -" Andy sobbed, unable to finish, tears running from the corners of her eyes as her whole body shook. "Please!" She pushed her lover away, scrambling unconsciously up the bed, seeking a reprieve, still feeling Miranda's hands all over her. "No, no, no -" she chanted as Miranda moved closer. "Miranda, I can't-"
"Sssh," Miranda soothed, taking Andy into her arms and kissing her gently. "You did very well, my dear."
"Jesus, Miranda..." Andy said breathlessly, dropping a hand to her chest to feel the pounding of her heart. She glanced at Miranda. The older woman sat primly, a smile playing at the edges of her mouth.
"Are you well sated?"
"Are you kidding me?" Andy rolled her eyes, giving Miranda her best impersonation. Miranda shook her head and reached behind her to work at the hooks of the corset. Andy struggled to sit up as she said, "Here, let me help--"
"Nonsense." Miranda proved that assistance was not required when, several seconds later, she tossed the corset to the floor. "Aaah."
Andy blinked several times, once again breathless at the sight of Miranda's breasts on display before her. Her fingers lazily traced circles around her still-rigid nipples and skimmed down the red impressions of the boning from the corset. She could almost feel the heat emanating from Miranda's aroused sex, but she seemed frozen, unable to reciprocate. "Miranda."
"Hmm?" Blue eyes focused on brown.
"'You pierce my soul.'"
Miranda smiled. "I think I prefer Miss Bennet to Captain Wentworth."
Andy gaped. "You know Persuasion?"
Miranda shrugged. "I'm familiar with it."
The brunette sat up and placed a large, wet kiss on her lover's mouth. "Miranda Priestly is a secret Jane Austen aficionado!"
"I wouldn't go that far."
"Mmm, I would."
"That may be so," Miranda said, pressing Andy back onto the mattress, "and we can argue the details later. That is, unless you'd prefer to talk about classic literature instead of eating me out while I straddle your face."
"Well..." Andy began, seemingly deep in thought. "Austen is considered one of the greatest- oh!"
Miranda had removed her panties and reclined back against the bed, idly teasing her fingers between her legs. "What? By all means, Andrea, continue your analysis of Austen's work - it is fascinating, let me assure you. I'm sure you won't mind at all if I entertain myself just a little as you speak."
With renewed energy, Andy pushed Miranda's hand out of the way. "Gimme that!" As much as Andy loved what Miranda could do to her, she enjoyed returning the favor just as much. She sank down over her lover's thighs, driving her tongue deep inside her three times in quick succession before emerging to lick and suck at her clit, delighted as Miranda shuddered beneath her, eyes firmly closed, unable to suppress a moan.
"Oh God, you're so wet," Andy murmured against Miranda's thigh. "You love it, don't you, Miranda? Watching me, tasting me, making me break apart? You pretend to be so calm, cool and in control, but on the inside, you can hardly stand it - hardly stand making me wait, keeping your hands off me, making me beg for it - can you, Miranda?" Miranda whimpered as Andy trailed her fingers lightly up Miranda's slit, teasing them just inside her entrance before pulling away.
Andy turned her attention to her lover's neck, licking, sucking and nipping, finding every sensitive spot - behind Miranda's ear, along her jaw line, down her collarbone - as Miranda tried to regulate her breathing, tried to lay still, try to conceal that she was just as desperate for this as Andy had been only minutes earlier. But Andy knew, and she knew how to break the older woman's control. She cupped Miranda's breasts, drawing her nipples alternately into her mouth, circling them with her tongue, as Miranda arched her back and cried out her name.
Miranda's heels dug into the bed as she arched into Andy's mouth, her nails digging harshly into her shoulders. Clearly Miranda's BDSM mood hadn't entirely passed and Andy reveled in this deliciously kinky side of her lover. She'd never been particularly masochistic before; well, perhaps she had been, considering how long she stayed at Runway. And, she supposed, considering how hard and how often she came when Miranda decided to get a little rough. She'd have bruises in the morning. Her ass would hurt to sit on. She may also have visible scratches on her back.
It would be enough to fuel her daydreaming fantasies for weeks.
Andy grinned into Miranda's breast, sucking the puckered nipple into her mouth as Miranda's nylon-clad legs hooked around her waist, drawing her closer.
Andy hummed in pleasure before sliding upwards, seeking her lover's mouth, moaning softly once she found her destination. Miranda kissed her wholeheartedly, drawing Andy closer, sliding her tongue deep into Andy's mouth, sucking and nipping at her lips, always seeking more - demanding it. Even when Miranda tried to resist her body's subconscious reactions, her kisses always gave away the depth of her desire. Oh, how Andy loved kissing Miranda. She could tell everything about Miranda by a single kiss.
Andy slid her fingers through Miranda's hair and smiled against her lips. Miranda pulled back, arching her eyebrow in silent question.
"'You have bewitched me, body and soul,'" Andy said dreamily.
"That may be so, my dear, but don't become too romantic on me now. There may not have been explicit sex in your Austen novels, but let me assure you, it was there."
Andy gasped. "There was no sex in Pride and Prejudice!"
"I'll show you later... but I trust you recall what I said about literary criticism in the bedroom? I can entertain myself if I have to." Miranda's eyes glinted dangerously as she slid her hand down her thigh, never breaking eye contact with Andy. Andy's jaw dropped and she hung in indecision for a long moment, but then she grabbed Miranda's wrists and pinned them over her head, dragging her tongue oh-so-slowly down her lover's body, proving that no solo entertainment would be required that evening.
Andy knew, as she circled her tongue around Miranda's navel, that the older woman had to be close. She'd picked up on bodily responses through the years, knowing exactly what proved that a climax was imminent: her thighs shook, her eyes darkened, her breathing became a rough pant. However, nothing made it more obvious that Miranda was about to come than the woman's actual verbal admission. It wouldn't take much, Andy knew; she was surprised that Miranda was resisting with so great an effort.
"I've got it all under control," Andy muttered, her nose nuzzling the tuft of silver curls. She kissed the damp, musky hair, following this by placing soft kisses down Miranda's slit.
Miranda hissed.
Andy rolled her tongue along the wet folds, lapping at Miranda's arousal and moaning her enjoyment into Miranda's body. Miranda's hips jerked.
She teasingly circled her tongue around Miranda's clit. "You may need to call in sick tomorrow too…" Andy flicked her tongue over the nub quickly before circling once again. "Can you imagine? Miranda Priestly taking a sick day because her lover fucked her into a coma?"
Miranda let out a long moan, sounding aroused almost to the point of pain.
"I... do not... take sick days," Miranda panted.
"Oh really?" Andy asked innocently, pulling her mouth away and tracing her finger over the lacy tops of Miranda's stockings. "So you'll wobble into Runway in your Christian Lou's, hardly able to walk, because you can still feel me right here between your legs?" Andy's finger traced the path and Miranda shook with the effort it took to keep still. Andy's voice dropped an octave as she whispered against Miranda's thigh "How many do you want tonight, Miranda?"
Miranda moaned and without waiting for a further response, Andy slid two fingers deep inside Miranda, curling them upwards, and Miranda bucked hard against her hand, wanting to feel more, always more. Andy soothed her lover, kissing and stroking her hips and thighs, stilling Miranda before sliding in a third finger. Miranda cried out and arched her back, grabbing blindly at Andy, finally giving in to her desire.
Miranda spread her thighs further, hooking a leg over Andy's shoulder. She tangled her fingers in Andy's hair, pulling the damp brown locks as she undulated her hips in time with the thrusting of Andy's fingers. Her scalp stung as Miranda tugged but the shriek that Miranda emitted as she twisted her fingers was enough to distract her from the pain.
Andy laved at Miranda's clit, pretense and teasing forgotten, as she drove her fingers hard into Miranda's gushing sex. Miranda dug her heel into her back, tugged at her hair, and threw her head back into the pillow as she swore loudly.
"I'm -- I -- oooh God -- Aaaah!"
A surge of moisture coated Andy's hand as Miranda came, her inner-walls clenching like a vice around her fingers. Her hips rocked, riding out each glorious wave of pleasure that tore throughout her body.
Andy slid up the bed and held Miranda close as her shaking subsided. She twined their legs together, nylon brushing against her skin. She loved these moments, when they were both worn out and sated, wanting nothing more than just to hold each other. She stroked her fingers through Miranda's hair, kissing her gently on the cheek.
"Happy?" she asked.
"Mmm... you have a very good notion of fingering, my dear Andrea," Miranda murmured.
Andy grinned at the Austen quote. "Well, Miranda, what do I play next? My fingers wait your orders."
-End-