3. Gotham #2
Exhaustion, loneliness and fierce desire surged at once.
Suddenly unsteady, her eyes flew open to find both hands already reaching for Remi’s back.
Remi’s reaction was instant as her breathing fractured into a sharp inhale, then a shaky breath out.
Immediately turning the stumble into an intended caress, Margot’s palms slid down the firm columns of muscle flanking Remi’s spine, before she snaked them around her waist. Lust flooded Margot’s chest, manifesting as a radiating heat as her breast pushed against the silk of Remi’s waistcoat.
Still facing the door, Remi remained obediently still, every muscle visibly taut.
Margot could feel the tension beneath her own hands, see it in the rigid set of her shoulders, hear it in every swallow and careful breath Remi fought to control.
The closeness of Margot’s mouth hovering over Remi’s ear seemed to make her shift her weight uncomfortably, her head dropping forward as she drew in a steadying breath through flared nostrils.
‘Did I say you could move?’ Margot’s voice was barely there, she cleared her throat
Remi stiffened. ‘No Marg—No, Miss Grenson.’
‘Straighten up.’
Immediately doing as instructed, Remi snapped her head up, pulling her spine back into a perfect vertical line.
With her body fused to Remi’s back, Margot’s hands roamed over her chest. Her lips drifted slowly to the nape of Remi’s neck, earning her another heavy, audible gulp.
A smirk ghosted across Margot's face. She wanted to prove she could be this close without succumbing.
To show Remi that her lips could hover over her soft skin without a desperate need to taste it, making last week a moment that meant nothing, so that it could be buried and forgotten about.
Or so she told herself.
As Margot’s hand shifted, fingers hooking firmly under the angle of Remi’s jaw to tilt her head back, Remi didn’t resist; she knew better.
The movement, devoid of any tenderness, forced Remi’s throat into a long, exposed line.
A small sigh fell from Margot’s lips as Remi’s hard swallow pushed against her palm.
Pressed to Remi’s shoulder blades, Margot’s chest betrayed her as it heaved.
A vice-like tightness gripped her chest, as she struggled to draw in air that had grown thick with an obvious mutual desire.
The stomach muscles beneath Margot’s palm were suddenly rigid as she trailed her hand down Remi’s belly; a reaction that sent a dangerous rush of excitement through Margot.
Galvanised by the tremor vibrating through Remi’s body, Margot’s hand dipped lower, over the front of her trousers, resting above the strap concealed beneath the navy fabric.
With some gentle manipulation, she knew exactly where she could make the flared base sit.
With a smirk, Margot began a slow, rhythmic movement.
‘Fuuuck!’ Remi ground out on a sigh, her chin dipping toward her chest.
‘Excuse me?’ Margot said sharply, pulling Remi’s head back so their cheeks were touching.
‘Nothing, Miss Grenson.’
The quiver in Remi’s voice was enough to tighten something low in Margot’s stomach.
They had a safe word—Omega. It was to be used if either of them wanted to stop, but also if Remi came too close to losing control.
In two years it had never been used. The rules had always been crystal clear, and Remi had always excelled at following them.
This felt different. This was different.
Margot’s lips traced the soft shell of Remi’s ear as she whispered, ‘Open your legs.’
Remi widened her stance as Margot’s leg pushed between her thighs from behind.
The effect was immediate, Remi slammed her eyes shut, as her teeth sunk into her bottom lip.
For a moment her footing faltered before quickly recovering, her strong legs planting firmly beneath her.
Chest rising and falling she waited. Margot swallowed, momentarily moved by the desperate effort, Remi’s discipline and her determination not to break.
‘I’m pleased you wore my favourite, Remi,’ Margot breathed, running her hand over the bulge in Remi’s trousers.
‘Turn around.’ The sound of Remi’s molars grinding into one another was almost deafening as she slowly turned to face her.
As Remi’s eyes lifted to Margot’s face, they settled on her slightly parted lips.
Remi moistened her own lips with her tongue, the sight of Remi’s plump bottom lip now glistening almost undid Margot completely.
‘Look at me,’ Margot ordered as her fingers moved to Remi’s belt.
Eyes fixed on Remi’s, Margot slowly began to unfasten the buckle.
After flicking the top button open, she pulled down the zip painfully slowly.
As the noise of the sliding metal filled the room, Remi’s hand balled into a fist. Margot roughly forced the two sides of Remi’s trousers open, revealing the top of her tight black Calvins.
Leaving her fingers splayed on Remi’s stomach she fiercely whispered, ‘I told you to open your legs…do not make me repeat myself.’
Remi widened her stance again as Margot forced her hand into her trousers, the thin fabric of her boxers the only barrier between them.
Averting her gaze, Remi looked beyond Margot to the champagne flute sitting on the small table, as the dildo moved back and forth over her clit.
The force of the movement caused Remi to rock slightly.
Her eyes slammed shut as her jaw tightened and nostrils flared.
Then, mercifully, the friction stopped. Remi exhaled but the breath had barely left her before Margot dipped her shoulder, her hand pushing lower to snake her fingers into the tight leg of Remi’s boxers.
‘Open your fucking legs, Remi,’ Margot rasped through her tight breaths, which were becoming erratic and harder to control.
Remi carried out the demand immediately, allowing Margot more room to push her hand up her inner thigh.
The noise of a tear in the seam as Margot roughly yanked at the material made Remi's eyes roll shut.
With her hand forced inside the material and through a gap in the harness, Margot ran her fingers over the full soaked length of Remi.
‘Jesus!’ Remi’s voice broke. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, her obedience reflexively kicking back in.
The sound of Remi’s gulp almost echoed in the quiet room as the fingers of Margot’s hand curled to trap her clit in a light, rhythmic squeeze.
Overcome by the wetness and heat of Remi in her hand, Margot whimpered softly.
Instinctively, she wanted to lean into Remi, to allow her forehead to rest against her collarbone; to savour each and every sensation. But, of course, she didn’t.
With a desperate hope that Remi hadn’t noticed her yearning, she gathered her composure with a sharp breath, set her jaw and slowly dragged her gaze over Remi’s face. ‘Hard and dripping for me, Remi?’ she rasped. ‘You’re not making this easy on yourself.’
Averting her gaze, Remi looked down to the dizzying monochrome floor as Margot’s fingers slid back and forth through her abundant wetness.
Her arms hung uselessly at her sides, hands balled into white fists.
Every muscle in her body drawn tight with effort.
Margot watched her carefully. Remi looked as though she was holding on by sheer force of will—and only just—but Margot continued to lazily push her soaked fingers back and forth, although now mercifully avoiding Remi’s clit.
‘I can’t—’
Margot dipped two of her fingertips just inside Remi. ‘What did you say?’
‘Fuck! Please Miss Gren—I can’t…’ She trailed off, now barely able to speak.
Remi’s hot breaths landed wet on Margot’s cheek, her lips painfully and dangerously close.
‘You do remember the first rule, Remi, don’t you?’
Drawing her eyebrows together, Remi’s throat clicked as she tried to swallow dryly. Her gaze remained stubbornly downcast. It clearly took everything she had to keep looking anywhere but at Margot.
‘I do. Fuck. Yes…I remember,’ Remi whimpered, her eyes rolling back with the slick movement of Margot’s hand and fingers, her voice catching in her throat with the effort of forming a coherent sentence.
‘How will you stop yourself? My hand is soaked, and you’re trembling. You’re close, aren’t you?’
‘I won’t come. I remember Miss Grenson. I won’t—’
With her free hand, Margot pulled the dildo through the hole in Remi’s boxers whilst gathering Remi’s wetness with the other. Unable to look away, Remi watched as Margot ran her wet hand over the full length of the dildo, the black silicone shaft now glistening.
Leaning in, Margot ghosted Remi’s ear with her lips. The almost-contact of her mouth seemed to hit Remi harder than anything else as Margot watched another tremor move through her. The atmosphere between them crackled with a charge that was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.
‘It’s been two years, Remi, two years and I still don’t know what you taste like. Isn’t that shocking?’ Margot asked rhetorically, her tone low and teasing.
Whilst making a show of sticking out her glorious arse, which she knew was reflected in the mirror behind her—and seemed to make Remi’s legs nearly give way entirely—Margot bent at the knees and knelt before her, wet hand still running slowly over and under the dildo.
Pushing and pulling. Remi's eyes darted from the floor to the mirror to the ceiling in a frantic search for somewhere else to look before she slammed them shut.
‘Look at me,’ Margot demanded.
Remi opened her eyes, her gaze falling to Margot’s mouth. Looking up at Remi under her long eyelashes, eyes dark, Margot slowly dragged her flat tongue up the shaft of the dildo, licking Remi’s arousal off it.
‘Oh my fucking God,’ Remi whispered.