Chapter Nineteen #2
As if on cue, Morgan Finch’s grip upon Lee tightened, her fingers pressing down upon her ass as Lee gasped at the contact, biting her lip with a vicious grin, pleased with her work thus far.
“And what exactly did he want?” Morgan said, her tone calm, but low, her eyes darkening.
Lee Holmes could hear the deep swallow coming from Morgan’s throat as the room silenced entirely, with nothing but shallow breaths between them.
Wanting to awaken the surging feeling inside herself within Morgan simultaneously, and realizing how close she had come to doing so, she pondered her words meticulously, thinking back to previous altercations whereby Lee had been on the receiving end of various intimate advances, advances of which had driven her girlfriend wild in the process.
Leaning forwards towards Morgan’s ear, her voice a subtle whisper, she weaponized Morgan’s jealousy and aimed it at her.
“For me to go home with him, so that he could fuck me.”
Lee Holmes didn’t need Morgan to respond with words to realize that her own words had aimed true.
She sat and watched her empire build within the movement of Morgan’s jaw—the way her throat bobbed, and her breathing became ragged.
Brick by brick, the design Lee Holmes had set out to formulate constructed itself around her.
Before she could even process what was happening, Morgan placed both hands around her waist and lifted her from her lap with force, throwing her down against the pillow.
Pinning her arms down now at either side of her, Morgan glared at her with enough passion to either make her or destroy her.
Lee Holmes decided at present time that either option would suffice.
“Don’t move a fucking inch,” Morgan said, reducing her grip on Lee as she pushed her own body away, leaning over the edge of the bed and pulling out a metallic box underneath it in the process. “I’ll tell you what I would do.”
With barely a second to comprehend what might happen next, Lee Holmes found her left hand being tied to the bedpost with rope.
Tightening the restraint, Morgan made little work of subduing Lee as she placed another piece of rope of equal length around Lee’s other hand on the opposite side of the bed.
If Morgan Finch left people feeling helpless, she thought, as she struggled against the rope ever so slightly, this was the type of helplessness that she could get used to.
Lee observed her own stomach as it rose and fell in anticipation, no longer in control of her breathing just as she was no longer in control of the movement of her body, her hips thrusting at the empty space above her, desperate for contact.
She observed her stomach until it became no longer visible as Morgan Finch laid down upon her, covering her body with her own once again.
This time, Lee would hand over her power and give Morgan all of it.
There was no warning, only a sharp wince that turned into a moan that elicited itself from Lee’s throat as she felt a stiff object maneuver its way inside of her.
She knew the feeling well enough to know that it was Morgan’s strap, and as she gazed at Morgan staring down at her with the animalistic eyes she herself had evoked from her, she closed her eyes and bit her lip in anticipation of what was to come.
Lee felt Morgan’s breath against her ear whilst she rutted against her immediately without any gradual increase in pace; her slick heat already creating a trail down her thighs.
“I’d cut his fucking head off. I’d fuck him up so bad they would need dental records just to identify him.
This goes for anyone for that matter that dare even lay a finger on you.
I’d pull their fucking fingernails off. I would destroy anybody that tries to touch you.
No one will ever get to fuck you but me. "
When Lee Holmes opened her eyes again, revealing Morgan above her, her eyes even wilder than before, she felt her own pupils expand, she felt her breathing rise.
Her body had become a volcano, burning inside her very core.
It was only a matter of time before she would spill over the edge.
Where Morgan Finch’s movements inside her in the past had been a symphony, a gentle, harmonious composition, tonight, she was met with dissonance, a haphazard of thrusts that made her gasp, and pant, and moan.
Her desperate desire to latch her nails into her girlfriend's back but being unable to was enough to make her scream out in frustration, burying her head in the crook of Morgan’s neck as further sounds escaped her, muffled slightly by Morgan’s skin against her mouth.
Even more so desperate than her desire to latch onto something, she felt a coursing impulse to tell the woman laying on top of her to keep going, unsure as to what she even meant by such a statement, whether it be Morgan’s words, or her movements.
And yet, as she opened her mouth to speak, another wave of pleasure coursed through her, and suddenly, she had forgotten how to do anything except give herself over entirely to the woman on top.
It was only when Morgan’s mouth moved closer towards her ear once more as she grazed her teeth against the skin of her neck that a chill went down her spine, setting her skin on fire even further, despite it already burning like a fallen candle.
“Tell me that you’re mine,” she whispered, her movements faltering until they came to a complete halt.
Lee Holmes whimpered, desperate for the feeling of friction once again, so much so, in fact, that she attempted to move her hips closer towards Morgan, pushing her own body against the one above her.
“No, no,” Morgan said, pulling back ever so slightly, the strap now lingering at the tip of Lee’s dripping entrance as opposed to inside of her, halting Lee’s own movements in doing so. “That’s not how this works.”
At present time, Lee decided that she would just about say anything, do anything, to return to her blissful state that had left her only thirty seconds prior.
Perhaps this was how Morgan always felt, she thought.
Perhaps Morgan adopted an intensity inside her that never left.
Perhaps that was why she did what she did.
Pushing those thoughts aside, she moved her mouth up towards Morgan’s own ear now.
“I’m yours,” she whispered, simply, placing a gentle kiss upon Morgan’s neck.
And just like that, what had just become dormant, was suddenly reawakened.
Their bodies came together once again—skin against skin—as Morgan shifted herself inside of Lee, resuming the haphazard movements she had adopted previously.
What others would perhaps perceive as rushed, unsystematic, Lee saw it for what it truly was—a longing for one body to belong entirely to another.
To claim it as their own. Animalistic, just like she was.
“I’m yours,” she repeated, slightly louder, now, and far, far, breathier.
She felt her legs tremble as she wrapped them around Morgan now, desperate for their bodies to be closer despite the distance already being so miniscule.
It did nothing in relation to the distance, but it did push Morgan farther inside of her, allowing moans she had no control over to escape into the darkened room.
Every sound only spurred Morgan Finch on further.
“Good girl,” she practically growled, her face still close to Lee’s ear as her movements started to increase in pace, the sound of Lee's slick heat making its presence known with each thrust inside of her.
“Now let me take care of you better than anyone else ever could.”
This was the moment leading up to everything else that had sat between them.
Despite everything, the fear, the nausea, the unsettled feeling that had sat in the pit of her stomach for weeks.
This was what it was to breathe. This was the high she felt deep in her veins—the beautiful comedown.
The runners high, the euphoria that saturated every part of her after the deep intensity was over.
She could breathe, now. They could both breathe.
At least for now. At least at this moment.
The blossoming heat inside of her deepened, and it was all she could do to cling onto the ropes around her wrists, her legs still wrapped around Morgan, as she cried out in ecstasy.
Upon doing so, another cry fell out of her, and then another, in quick succession, as she finally spilled over, and the world was set right once again.
Their bodies remained interlocked as Morgan Finch adopted the gentleness she had just been neglecting, placing a kiss upon Lee’s forehead with the utmost of care.
Her fingers traced lazy circles across Lee’s arms, her stomach, her legs, her hips rocking slowly now, allowing Lee to gradually come down from her climax.
“I love you,” she said. “Always have,” she continued.
Lee’s entire body trembled, and she wasn’t sure when it had fallen out of her, but it was only now, when the atmosphere had settled, that she noticed a singular tear edge its way down her cheek.
“I love you, too,” she whispered, as her head fell gently onto Morgan’s shoulder.
It was at that moment that she came to the conclusion that she could nest here forever, against the skin she had grown to know better than her own.
She would nest here, and she would pass here, and when she died, she would die happy.
She wasn’t just content, not anymore. She was alive.
There it was again, that familiar ticking; a steady metronome contradicting the rhythm of her heartbeat as it thumped inside her chest. The human body was always consistently working so hard to keep itself alive, and yet in a fraction of a second, it could all be snuffed out—no more contradicting rhythms, only steady metronomes from a ticking clock.
If Lee Holmes was to fall asleep that night after giving herself over to Morgan, she surmised that she would need to commit to a new routine.
Instead of counting sheep, she listed the items of furniture in her head within the bedroom.
Dresser, bed, mirror, floorboards that held hidden truths that she wasn’t ready to accept.
No, that wasn’t helping. She exhaled, glancing over at Morgan now, the woman she loved, sleeping beside her.
She loved her and yet a future that was once so clear had suddenly become blurred, as if the proverbial rose-tinted glasses of their relationship had been taken away, and she couldn’t see what the next day could bring even, let alone the next year.
When she closed her eyes, it came in flashes—not the future, but the past. Always the past, now. The knife, entering Edward Beckett’s chest. The gasp as it left him. If she was always looking back from now on, and never forward, was there even a future left to build?
Two people sitting around a campfire, Morgan and Lee, meeting one another for the first time, laughing into the night; an indelible memory. All things considered, would she still take a seat at that campfire?
Perhaps the world was simply one big cosmic joke, and no matter the choices she made, she would always end up back here, in this bed. Perhaps that was what she wanted, and what she wanted was Morgan. Or perhaps, she didn’t.
Lee Holmes placed a kiss on Morgan's temple, leaning forward as she took the pillow that was once propped underneath her own head, and placed it gently over her girlfriend's. Gently at first, but only at first, applying force when her body began to squirm underneath her. The temporary gentleness was Lee’s way of saying that she didn’t want to do this, she had to do this.
“I’m sorry,” Lee offered, as if the two words could somehow fix everything.
“I love you,” she continued, in case the two words were not enough.
The world fell away when Morgan did.
When her girlfriend had stopped breathing, her body no longer squirming, she screamed into the pillow, her eyes on Morgan’s lifeless ones, only to find herself screaming at the ceiling just seconds later.
She jolted awake, the nightmare evaporating into the newly brightened room, sweat dripping down her forehead, and on her chest, only to find that the lifeless eyes she had looked into seconds before were no longer there. Morgan was no longer there.
Lee attempted to steady her breathing, but the act was futile, acknowledging that the sun had begun to streak through the curtains, unsure as to what time it was and when she had fallen asleep and when Morgan had left. If Morgan was no longer next to her, had it truly been a dream?