Chapter 27 #2
“Leave,” Estella ordered.
“No.” Ellie defied her. “Anything else.”
Estella scrunched her eyes closed. She was losing. What was happening? She couldn’t fucking lose.
“Unbutton your dress.” Her words were fierce. She heard Ellie swallow, but she also heard the hiss of desire in her own voice. It drove her nuts. She wanted to be in charge not choked by her own want. This wasn’t working. “Now.”
Ellie undid the front of her dress. She didn’t drop her eyes the whole time.
Her fingers shook, but her lips were parted, her tongue darting out to wet them as she worked.
Estella didn’t know what the fuck she was doing until Ellie’s dress gaped all the way open, her bra neat pale lace, white, almost indistinguishable from her skin.
And just like that, Estella came to life.
She cupped the lace in front of her, tugged down the cup.
Stared at Ellie’s pink nipple, bare, vulnerable.
It was small and achingly hard, tiny goosebumps around it, begging for her touch.
She met Ellie’s eyes while she tugged down the other cup.
Kept her gaze hard. Ellie’s pale chest and neck were mottled with red.
Humiliation or desire, it all felt the same right now.
“Please—” Ellie choked out. “Fuck!”
“I’ve seen these before,” Estella said coldly, even as she reached for what she wanted — more than she’d suddenly ever wanted anything — running her thumb back and forth over each hard tip.
Ellie moaned, arching toward her touch and Estella felt heady from power.
“On my fucking television, while you were pretending to be me.” She pinched Ellie’s nipple, felt the way she startled at the sharp sensation, then the way she pressed up closer for more.
Estella felt drunk. Every time she pushed Ellie harder, Ellie just wanted more.
There was no power in the world like the feeling she had right now, Ellie baring her body for her, shivering under her touch, desperate for anything Estella would give her.
“I know you, Estella,” Ellie whispered, goading her higher.
“I’ve been inside your skin. You can’t hide from me.
” She cried out, as Estella pinched both her nipples at once, harder than she should.
Estella watched in shocked fascination as Ellie pressed her breasts even firmer into Estella’s hands, wanting it. “I know what you want.”
Ellie was desperate, shaking, her voice getting thin and Estella was aware of being so fucking wet she wanted to grind on Ellie, on any fucking part of Ellie she could get.
The thought hit her like a revelation: Ellie would take that too.
A breathy gasp escaped her throat, no hiding. Ellie looked victorious.
“Take off your underwear,” Estella gritted out.
She needed Ellie more vulnerable than she was.
Estella was electrified with fear right then, light-headed with it.
She’d never, not once— but how difficult could it be?
She touched herself, didn’t she? And Ellie looked like she was hanging by a thread, like almost anything would push her over the edge.
A scrap of white lace was gripped in her fist and she dropped it, deliberately, on Estella’s desk.
Not a surrender. A fucking victory. Estella couldn’t have that. “Lift your dress for me, now.”
Ellie obeyed without a second of hesitation, gifting Estella her pale thighs, her tiny tease of hair, her bare pussy.
Estella had seen enough porn in her life, of course she had, yes even the girl-on-girl kind.
Especially the girl-on-girl kind. What woman on earth wouldn’t want to get off without dealing with more goddamn men at the end of her day?
And so, a pussy should just be a pussy. Shouldn’t it?
Should it feel like this? God knows, Ellie herself had filmed sex scenes, Estella had even seen them.
Ellie in a blonde wig, blue contacts and fake tan.
Eloise Silver as Estella Grant, taking it in the back of a limousine, throat flung back, getting her fill, riding her hips, crying out for the camera.
And yet, here she was, Ellie as Ellie, trembling legs, hungry eyes, wet for her.
Estella was going to take her fucking fill.
She pressed in close, slid her hand between Ellie’s thighs and stroked slowly along incredibly soft, wet, burning heat. She had no idea whose gasp was whose.
“I know,” Ellie choked out, right against her ear, pushing her again. “I know you want to fuck me.”
Estella saw white. Ellie seemed to know her better than she’d known herself.
She wanted to punish her for it. She wanted to make Ellie ride her fingers so hard she’d feel Estella’s touch for days.
She stroked her again, feeling her jolt.
It was right then, that Estella heard a distant shuffle in the waiting room.
They weren’t alone, she remembered. For some reason, the timing made her smile, enjoying far too much the victory, as she leaned in and took firm hold of Ellie’s jaw.
“I’m not going to,” she whispered. Right as she moved her fingers away. Ellie whimpered in shock.
“No—” she gasped. “Please—” She looked agonised, like it was her very breath Estella was stealing, like she wouldn’t survive without Estella’s touch.
The power fed Estella and suddenly she knew.
This was exactly what she needed right now, and Ellie was offering it to her, willingly.
Estella would eat it all up, every fucking drop of this feeling like she was a goddamn vampire and Ellie wanted her to.
“You’re embarrassing yourself,” she growled at Ellie, slipping her hand back between her thighs.
Too soft for friction, just enough to feel that addictive heat.
“Begging for it like this. Dripping all over my fingers.” The sound Ellie made at that was cruel.
Like she was seconds from coming, even at the faintest brush of Estella’s touch.
Estella pulled away again. “Get dressed,” she ordered. “You’re coming home with me.”
Estella turned away so she didn’t see Ellie win.