Chapter 4 April - Chiara & Vi #2
The moment the words left her mouth, she could hear the sharp exhalation in the hallway and knew there would be hell to pay.
She squeezed her thighs. Oh yes, both of them had almost driven this plan of hers off the rails by being maudlin and insecure, but no matter.
The plan was back on. Chiara would make sure of it.
She turned around quickly and marched up the second set of stairs leading up to their apartment, checking every bulb.
When she was satisfied, she turned the switch on, transforming the space into one of celebration.
The fairy lights danced, sparkling with joy, and Chiara’s shoulders relaxed for the first time in a month.
As she climbed another flight of stairs, she called down.
“You can follow me up, Cara!” The door downstairs banged open, and the sound of hurried steps informed her she was indeed being followed.
A few moments later, Vi, her eyes wide and mouth slightly parted, joined her in their living room, watching the blinking lights with vivid enthusiasm.
“Christmas in April?”
“Well, why not?” Chiara held out her hand, and Vi joined her, twirling her around, the lights serving as a backdrop to their reunion.
“Believe it or not, this is something Audrey came up with. And I am totally stealing it.”
“Is this like her wife stealing your cat’s affection from you?”
Vi ducked as Chiara gave her a playful swat.
“Neve has not stolen my cat. Binoche just has a crush that I am perfectly fine with.”
Vi laughed and kissed her before twirling Chiara again.
“Brioche could use a little distraction anyway. My ankles can only take so much abuse.”
Chiara shook her head. “She doesn’t scratch you. She never has. You like to annoy her and play the victim. Binoche is a perfect angel, and even now she can hear you calling her names.”
“All this for a cat that fancies Blackthorne. Tut tut.” Chiara almost argued more, but that way lay perdition so she let it go. Her cat was allowed a crush.
One crush.
“Do you want to know about the lights, or do you want to argue about my cat’s fidelity?”
“Well, this is a really tough choice…” Vi made a face.
Chiara rolled her eyes. “I haven’t seen you in a month, and this is what I get?”
Vi leaned in and gave her a long, languorous kiss.
“I think this is what you get. And the teasing is what your cat gets. You getting huffy about it is just a nice bonus. You look absolutely delectable when aggravated.”
“Madonna help me.” Chiara looked heavenward.
“She’s on tour, I thought?” Vi quipped and avoided another swat from Chiara, who was now grinning ear to ear. Oh yes, she had missed this so very much.
“I was going to cook for you. I was going to make lasagna. I was going to make tiramisu. I was going to do all that while wearing some of the samples I’m trying out for bridal lingerie, yet here you are, Genevieve Courtenay, joking and fooling around when you could have had it all.
When you could have walked with me, down memory lane with the fairy lights.
A memory lane that would have led you directly to the present I got you. ”
Vi’s face morphed into one of deep remorse. Chiara could’ve sworn the bottom lip quivered.
“I messed this up, didn’t I?”
Chiara took pity on her wife.
“No possible way. There isn’t anything that cannot wait until you get the Brioche jokes out of your system, my love. Not even a new strap.”
Vi’s mouth dropped open.
“I can’t believe I’ve been goofing off when cooking, reminiscing, and bending me over a desk was on the menu all along.”
Chiara’s stomach clenched.
“Well, you have been really naughty, Genevieve. With all those women around you, drooling all over you, you have gotten too big for your boots, haven’t you?”
She stepped closer, just inches between them and ran her fingers up the open collar of Vi’s shirt. The suspenders really were a work of art. She would allow her wife to keep them. Or…
A better idea materialized. Chiara tugged on the clasps, unhooking one suspender, then the other, Vi’s chest rising and falling rapidly without a single touch. Yes, Chiara was going to have so much fun.
“So very naughty…” She lowered her voice, knowing what the deep octave did to Vi. The vein pulsing fast in her long neck was proof enough.
She snapped the now unhooked suspenders in her hands and very slowly wrapped the black material around one of Vi’s wrists. She tugged and Vi’s eyes fell closed, but not before Chiara saw the flash of hunger in them. When she moved to the second wrist, Vi couldn’t suppress a moan.
“You were saying something about a desk, Cara? Will the kitchen table do? I rather fancy making a new memory on it. One more fairy light to add to the string.”
A few steps, tugging on Vi’s now bound hands, and they were in the kitchen. All her plans were coming along nicely. Foresight and hope were powerful tools.
Slowly, so very slowly, all the while whispering in Vi’s ear about how bad she had been, and how she’d be punished for it, Chiara divested her wife of the slim-fitted trousers and the boxers. Her own mouth watered at the display.
A white button-down, black suspenders as wrist binds, and all that glorious skin.
The scene was missing just one detail for her full satisfaction.
Chiara reached for her throat and unknotted the Hermes scarf from around her own neck.
Then she took her time draping it over Vi’s face, slowly rolling it up until Vi whimpered, the makeshift blindfold sliding into place perfectly.
With just one push, Vi perched on the edge of the sturdy oak table, naked below the waist, breathing heavily, hands tied in front of her. Right there for the taking…
And Chiara took her and took her time. Their kisses went on for an eternity. Lips gliding over lips, tentatively at first, and then with hunger and purpose, until both of them were left gasping for air and for each other. For more.
While the aesthetics were enchanting, the shirt was now in her way.
Chiara grabbed two fistfuls of white cotton and sent buttons flying everywhere.
Oh, yeah. This was familiar. Exhilarating.
Ripping fabric was definitely their thing.
Ironic, since they both worked in fashion and should have had more reverence for it.
But now was not the time for that. In fact, Chiara thought she was very reverential when she took Vi’s nipple in her mouth and sucked, making Vi moan, reveling in the sound before moving further down, her lips leaving a wet trail on exposed skin.
When she reached a hip bone, she bit hard before laving the already reddening spot with her tongue, soothing the sting, leaving her mark.
She knew she’d see it tomorrow morning as they showered together, she’d see it the next day, too, and this image of Vi, spread in front of her, moaning and panting, ready for her, wet, so wet and wanting, would be something she’d relive every time she saw the bruise.
Chiara asked for no further incentive and smiled as Vi pushed her hips towards her face.
“Are you insisting on being naughty? Demanding thing. Is this how you behave when you’re away? Bossy?”
Vi shook her head, clearly too turned on for coherent thought.
“No… No… Just for you. I love you. Want you…”
Chiara paused a breath away from where Vi needed her most. She allowed herself to gently blow on the wet folds, and Vi nearly jumped a foot in the air.
“Please… Chiara… Please…”
“Please what, my love? What do you want?”
The scent was making her slightly drunk. On power, on this woman, on this passion.
“Lick me. Please. Make me come.”
Chiara smirked.
“Well, I will oblige you about that first part. But you will have to wait for the second. And if you come before I let you, before I have my fill, before I fuck you blind… I won’t touch you again for days.”
Vi’s moan was downright dirty, and Chiara could hold back no more.
She did as was begged of her. She licked and licked until she was intoxicated by the taste, until Vi was all over her face, until she could feel her twitch with every single touch, until she writhed on the table and gripped her hair with her tied-up hands, until her cries were surely heard from the street below.
“Chiara! Chiara! I’m gonna come, please, please, let me come!”
A heartbeat, two, a lick, another, then Chiara placed a gentle kiss on the bruised hip bone and backed away slowly.
“No, my love, that’s not how this game is played. You aren’t allowed to come. And you know it. Screaming for it won’t make me give it to you.”
Then she leaned in, and sucked Vi’s clit into her mouth all the while, her nails carefully raking the tender skin of Vi’s thighs.
Vi screamed. Wild, hungry, desperate, the fingers in her hair told Chiara as much, but she only sucked harder, feeling the impending climax approach. But just before it hit, she stood up and stepped away, not trusting herself to not finish the job yet. The things this woman did to her.
There was more to be done, however. With one last look at the mess she had made of her wife, now fully sprawled on the kitchen table, dripping and panting, Chiara entered the bathroom where the present she had bought earlier waited for them both.
The strap was thin and long, exactly how they preferred it.
She made quick work of the harness, the leather blending perfectly with the garter belt she had on.
Then she opened the jar of lube and, unable to play games for much longer, gave the silicone a few strokes, getting it ready.
Hell, getting herself ready as well. The pressure on her own clit was exquisite, and with the taste of Vi all over her face, Chiara knew she wouldn’t last long.
She nearly raced back to the kitchen. She had little self-control, and the sight of Vi still panting, naked and wet and so ready for her was enough to drive her out of her mind.
Chiara touched the bruise again, and Vi sighed.
“Please, I need you…”
Ah, the absolute magic words…
Even if Chiara had wanted to prolong the moment, as she was on the edge herself, the breathy, needy statement would’ve done her in.
“I know, my love. I know. Are you ready for me? Are you ready for me? For my present?”
Vi choked on air, and Chiara’s grin hurt her face.
“Yes, yes, YES!”
“So beautiful, so perfect, so wet for me to fuck you, aren’t you?”
Vi had no more words as Chiara spread her open, she knew she had made the right choice, the fit and feel pure magic. As she entered her to the hilt, it pressed on her own clit and she almost lost her mind.
“Perfection.” Chiara whispered. “You are perfection.”
She knew she wouldn’t last. Neither of them would.
All the talk about lesbians going on for days while strapped never really applied to her.
Or maybe it was just Vi, and the fact that Chiara simply couldn’t resist her.
Couldn’t resist this. This feeling, this love, the way they fit together, naked and clothed.
The way that, despite their worlds often colliding and even more often keeping them apart, it was just that… Perfect.
She said it out loud again, and Vi trembled underneath her every stroke, every thrust, and then she was reaching for the blindfold. Chiara beat her to it, removing the mangled Hermes. The gray eyes held so much love, so much tenderness as they watched her, and Chiara’s own filled with tears.
“I love you. I love you. I love you.”
She chanted, thrusting, bringing them closer and closer to the edge and right before she fell off it, she heard Vi murmur the words back.
The street below still telegraphed the end of the busy New York evening, people still went on their way as Chiara finally opened her eyes and lifted her face off Vi’s sternum.
She undid the restraints and massaged the wrists, looking carefully to see if Vi would need ice or salve. By the blissed out expression on her wife’s face, she’d probably require neither. A bath, however…
“Yes, definitely a bath. And then we are hanging another bulb. Right next to the one representing that time I fucked you on your desk in your office.”
The words were slightly slurred, the exhaustion of a perfect orgasm clearly getting to her, but something drew Chiara’s attention away from the smugness that was settling after rendering her wife nearly boneless.
“I thought you didn’t know what the lights were for!”
Vi’s grin was mischievous.
“I suspect you want me to keep to myself the fact that I know exactly what some of the bulbs on Audrey’s string are for… So…”
Chiara lifted her arms and turned on her heel, almost running out of the kitchen.
“I really don’t want to know anything like that about Blackthorne! I have to style her for the damn wedding!”
Vi’s laughter accompanied her all the way to the bathroom where she let the water run, and where she discovered Binoche hiding.
She could have sworn the expression on the cat’s face was pure curiosity, and Chiara could also have sworn it was about those bulbs on Neve’s strings she herself wanted to know nothing about.