Chapter 15
LANEY
K enna and I fell into a routine. Every night she came to visit me in my room. We never went back into her room after I woke up there the day after Tilly’s funeral, disorientated, alone, but wickedly calm.
The kiss had come at a terrible time, but I couldn’t bring myself to regret it. As soon as it happened, I wanted to wrestle my phone out of my pocket and call my best friend. The reality that sunk in immediately after left me with a bitter taste. Not on account of Kenna, but circumstance. I hated that she had to be muddied by the tragedy that had befallen the Ravencroft syndicate. If only we’d met again the year before.
We threw each other silent glances during the day but it was only at night that our mouths started running. And I mean both in the talking sense, and the kissing sense. Though, I wished for more. Never in my life had I felt more validated and confident of my sexuality as now. I ached for that next step of intimacy, and I wanted it with Kenna. I almost panted at the thought.
I had snuck down to the service maids’ quarters to find some candles and a lighter in preparation for tonight. But I got accosted by Grant, who ran in my direction, commanding that I take over the last hour of training as he had just received word of a situation with his daughter.
For sympathies sake, I had withheld my eye roll, but my romantic plans were put on the backburner as it had done my entire life so far. The only reprieve of this was that I could have an hour to gawk at Kenna, unabashedly. What? I’m only doing my job. Supervising!
Grant hadn’t told me, however, that the last lesson of the day was gun handling. The very sight of them made me uncomfortable, not to mention the sounds and smell that would stick with me for a while. I loathed the mark it would leave.
Heads turned when I walked in the room, and I hoped they couldn’t sense the tremors of anxiety that I concealed just below my skin. I found Kenna instantly, looking relaxed, shoulders back, and legs spread in a confident stance. Her calm calmed me, so I mimicked her, channelling her courage as if it were my own.
The weapon of choice today was a simple handgun.
I cleared my throat loudly to the group. “This.” I lifted a gun in the air, the rattle of a clip thankfully missing. “This is a Colt-911 handgun. Do not point at anything you don’t intend to shoot. On this premise, gun handling and aiming must be done with appropriate clearance. Today is practice, you have my permission.” I asserted, with a booming voice. “Before you are handed a gun, I will assess your outward capability. I trust you are confident in this role as you have been hired in it, but this kind of weapon must be treated with serious caution. If I catch even a smirk on your face, you will be asked to leave.” I ended my spiel with a nod and hoped for no trouble in this session. I didn’t often trust men, yet, I had to have faith that these men would listen to my word. “Line up!”
The first guy in line appeared giddy, bouncing from foot to foot. “Nope,” I said and pointed toward the door. His shoulders slumped, softened eyes hard on mine for me to reconsider. Fat chance. “Please, leave.”
The second guy walked slowly. He was buff and, without wavering, extended a hand to place a weapon in it. “Position one,” I told him and pointed toward the row of targets along the wall.
As I moved down the line of men, I was keenly aware that Kenna had placed herself at the back of the queue. Two cadets were sent away. Eight were given the go ahead.
I looked the final cadet up and down, unabashed.
“Saving the best till last?” She joked but with a severe look on her face while accepting the gun I had placed in her hand.
Her eyes seemed to light up at the weight of the thing. I cringed. Her exuberant confidence was one thing behind closed doors, but it was dangerous in combat. I trusted her. I think. Don’t make me regret this.
“Position ten.” I directed.
She hadn’t yet looked up from the weapon. When she did, I melted. “Okay, Miss,” she replied in a whisper.
It took me too long to compose myself. I raised my voice in faux confidence. “Alright, target practice is about posture and positioning more than aim. Observe my stance and assume the right position, right foot forward…”
After a series of instructional demonstrations, the line of cadets stood in position, ready to shoot. I had given each of them only one bullet, so the aim had to be good.
“Ear protectors and glasses on! On ‘shoot’. Ready?”
I counted down.
Three.
Two.
One.
Shoot.
I flinched at the sound of ten gunshots bouncing off each wall. My ears began to ring despite my protective headgear, and I so badly wanted to be anywhere else.
When the dust settled and the cadets could assess their shots, a chorus of reactions filled the room. Some boasting, others let out a big sigh. But Kenna was quiet. I walked toward her to see where her shot landed. A fraction of an inch away from the bullseye. Damn.
I looked at her then. She was in a leather jacket again, with black cargo trousers and a white vest that clung to her breasts and skin. Her hair was half tied up at the back and loose silver chains hung from her ear, similar to the ones that swung from the loop of her jeans.
“Almost.” I said and I handed her a single bullet for the next round of target practice before turning on my heel to go down the line to distribute the ammunition again. Even when I announced the second round, I still grimaced at the noise.
Many improved on the second go but looking toward Kenna’s target I spotted the margin of error again as the shot missed the bullseye by less than an inch.
So, before round three, I came up behind her and moulded my body to her back, leg to leg, arm on arm, and both our fingers on the trigger. Her eyes followed the slight adjustments I made to her posture. I was going to ensure success for her.
It wasn’t entirely selfless, though, I revelled in her warmth and breathed in her fresh perfume. “Ensure you align your dominant eye with the position of your gun. Like this.” I nudged her arm a fraction to the right, centring her stance.
As I went to unpeel myself from her, she flipped our fingers and arms in a sudden motion so that her finger and arms were on top of mine, in command and in control. It was unnerving, undoubtedly a power play but man, was it sexy with Kenna in charge.
“Countdown,” she whispered in my ear.
I trusted her implicitly. The numbers came out rushed, and before I even said ‘one,’ she pulled the trigger.
Bullseye.
I need a cold shower.
Kenna chuckled while letting me go. I’m confused for a second until I realised that I had said that aloud!
I cleared my throat. When I took five steps away from her, I could finally breathe normally again. “That was the last round, guys. Well done.” Walking the line behind the cadets, I perused the scattered bullet holes in the target. I nodded to myself, oddly proud. For someone who hated guns, that wasn’t such a bad outcome. “Please, place your handguns on the table in front of me when you leave. Barrel facing away from me, thank you.”
I could feel her body behind me after the final cadet had left.
“I love it when you blush,” she admitted under her breath.
“I like you in charge,” I returned.
“Can be arranged.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Tonight?”
“Uh-uh.” Without another word, I grabbed her hand and dragged her across the hallway to my office. The few people that were still around were packing up to grab dinner from the mess, eyes toward their desks instead of watching my fingers tangled with Kenna’s, or both our chest rising heavily.
The air became thick once the door shut, and my movements slowed as a result. Kenna’s didn’t though. She was quick to spin me so that I had my back to the door we had just entered through, and she leaned her weight into me, nipping at my ear.
“You want dominance, princess?” She whispered in a sultry voice.
All the emulated confidence dissipated as words got stuck in my throat. I could only gulp and nod in response.
She cocked her head to the side, “What do you say?”
“Please,” I breathed out almost into a moan and I looked down, embarrassed at my squirming.
At once, she gripped my chin between her finger and her thumb, sharply turning my head in line with hers. We were so close. I could feel the steady beat of her chest, her breathing calm, unlike mine.
She held my face until I lifted my eyes to hers. I held the contact for a long moment, but I was truly desperate. Being touch starved for so long, and finally coming in arms reach of it had me in a frenzy. The chemistry in my brain may be scattered but my thoughts were simple, fuck me.
The second she saw it in my eyes, she pounced. Her hands found my hips as her mouth attacked mine. It was headless, but in a way majestic as she lifted me up to circle my legs around her hips.
She had power. I loved it.
I pushed at her jacket to get it off, but her arms were tightly wound around my waist, keeping me safely airborne that the frenzied effort was fruitless. Still, I touched every inch of exposed skin I could under her jacket. God, her skin was soft. The armoured smell of gunpowder clung to her, and raised the temperature in this small, confined space to a hundred degrees.
Our kiss had morphed into a wet interwoven pattern of our tongues clashing. It was like we both were satisfied at the proximity that we were quickly gaining. It had to be closer faster.
That was until Kenna threw me down onto my office chair, effectively knocking all my breath out of me, but as quickly as my back hit the chair, she was on top of me. Her tongue in my mouth. I was panting hard, trading oxygen for more of her.
In this position, I managed to push her jacket off her and with it, the straps of the black camisole she was wearing underneath. I pulled back to catch my breath and got full sight of her, dishevelled and so fucking hot. She was wearing a red, lacy bra. It was almost see-through as her breasts hung in my face, and I moaned at the sight. She hadn’t barely touched me yet!
This moment of reprieve had me recalibrating my state of undress too. My jacket was long gone by the door, the top two buttons on my jeans were undone, and I wasn’t wearing underwear.
Kenna hadn’t seemed to notice that yet as she prompted me to lift my arms for her to rip my shirt off of me. Her eyes were laser-focused, it was kind of scary, but I abided by her instructions and held my arms up. I could tell the exact moment she saw me, sans underwear, because she paused.
“That for me?” She said.
I shaved.
“Everything is for you,” I responded. It was a lie. The day after Tilly’s funeral, I had an intense need to feel clean. I was scrubbing profusely on my body in the shower and thought the hair would have to go to, but I didn't tell her that. I’ll make her feel special.
She tilted her head back and groaned at my words, before sliding her hands into my jeans and pulling them clean off.
I spread my legs and shifted my hips to get closer to the edge of the chair, easier access, but she slapped me right in the pussy instead. It was cruel, unexpected, but I felt a small gush of wetness puddle between my legs.
“Don’t look so eager yet, I’m still fully clothed.” Bitch.
My hands sprung outward, fisting fabrics on her body to pull her closer. “Don’t make me wait.” I pleaded with her.
“Only good girls get a reward,” she replied. She pulled away from me then, and my entire body almost moved with her, but she placed a hand between my breasts to push me back down.
She peeled her tight cargo trousers off and her cami but left her underwear on before straddling me on the chair. I could orgasm from just her physique as I admired the toned abs that she usually hid under her tight fitting tops. Her eyes were dark, but I was undeterred as I slid my hands down both her sides, caressing gently in admiration.
She stared at my body, seeming to revel in the power position that I had given her. I grew increasingly more lethargic at her proximity, but I was also desperate for her touch, so I bucked into her to get her to move or do something.
In a swift motion, she gripped one of my breasts, hard, locating the nipple before she sharply twisted it. I almost screamed and moaned at the same time, but her other hand flew to my mouth, blocking the noise from escaping .
“We’ve got to be quiet; can you do that for me princess?”
Unable to speak, I gave her a firm nod as I met her eye.
Her hand then travelled down my neck to my chest, briefly tickling my nipple before finding my pussy swollen and gently, slotting one finger inside.
My back bent at the insertion.
“Oh, she likes that,” Kenna said, more to herself than anyone else, but she didn’t move the finger inside me. “I’m going to make you come so hard, you won’t remember your name.”
I panted underneath her, willing her to move, almost begging her to.
She leaned over me further, the chair reclining further back at her movement. Her boobs came into contact with my face.
“Suck,” she commanded and curled her finger inside me.
I keeled forward and my mouth latched onto one of her breasts. I sucked hard, hoping that she would reward me, but she just moaned herself. The sound took me by surprise. It was vulnerable and amped up our intimacy.
Letting go of her nipple, I kissed and sucked around it in the hope of leaving marks—a declaration for other people to see that Kenna Whether was mine. My mouth moved to her other breast and gave it equal attention.
Then, Kenna withdrew her finger and for a moment I felt empty. I couldn’t see what she was doing as she entirely blocked my sightline, but quickly something cool and hard touched my intimate skin.
There was a click and then, this foreign object penetrated me. It was much larger than her finger, but by now I was wet enough to take it efficiently despite its chill.
I tried to look between our bodies, but Kenna tutted disapprovingly. Only good girls get a reward so a good girl I will be.
Still, I writhed and willed Kenna to move the object inside me.
“This is to get you as wet as possible,” she explained. “Most of the pleasure is in your clit, I haven’t forgotten about it.”
I blushed. Obviously, my sexual inexperience was clear as day but if she minded, she didn’t show it. Instead, she leaned down to kiss my jaw. I tried to return similar kisses to whatever skin I could reach, yet it was clumsy, and I still bucked my hips to get some kind of release from the pressure in my pussy.
As Kenna bent to lay warm wet marks on my skin, I had a clear line of sight to the offending object that sat in my pussy right now.
I gasped. It was a gun.
“You can’t– I–” I tried to protest, but Kenna just pushed it further in and I quickly lost my train of thought at the sweet friction. “Oh my god,” I sighed.
“The safety is on,” she assured me and jumped down from the chair to continue the wet trail that began at my jaw. She kissed my stomach, my hips and my thighs but conveniently avoided the area I needed her most.
“Please,” I was flustered as something akin to butterflies swarmed in my lower belly. When Kenna’s breath skimmed my pussy, I shivered, my entire body wound so tight from the relentless teasing.
“This is our first time,” she said, softly, “Gotta make it count.” She kissed my clit with a quick peck.
I was only focused on her. Sounds disappeared and the threat that someone, anyone, could walk in at any time entirely dissipated.
She placed a heavy hand on my lower stomach eliciting a deep, pained moan from my lips.
“Shh. I’ll make it better, promise princess.” Returning to kissing my thighs again, I pushed my head back in frustration. This was a sweet bloody torture.
Every couple of seconds, she would tap the gun handle. It made my heart rate jump each time. Until finally, she pumped the gun three times, bringing me almost to the cresting point, before pulling out altogether.
My wetness dripped from the gun, and I watched as Kenna licked it clean.
She briefly inserted two fingers to collect some more and spread it around my pussy lips and up to my clit, giving it a couple of circles that made me see stars before lifting her fingers to my mouth and commanding me to ‘lick’.
As soon as my lips wrapped around her fingers, she suctioned my clit into her mouth. And my stringent patience was weaning as my chest fell heavier with each passing second.
She lifted the gun, bringing it to my entrance again, but barely penetrating. “Don’t come yet, princess,” she commanded.
Her mouth returned to my clit, and I grunted a loud, “please.” But she just sucked harder and moved the handgun with shallow strokes. There was a countdown in my head, and I was nearing number one. I felt like I could implode.
Something told me she was never going to give me permission so as I came to the precipice, I roughly slid my fingers into her hair and held her face to my pussy as I came all over her .
I bucked a few times, but my grip never loosened on her head until I felt the last wave of an orgasm crash through me. I was barely cognizant, but I heard Kenna’s quiet words.
“What’s your name?”
“Princess,” I mumbled.
“Good girl.”
When I finally let go, Kenna fell back against a filing cabinet on the floor.
I, on the other hand closed my eyes and focused on steadying my breathing.
We lapsed into a moment of silence. Though, I felt her watching me, collapsed and spent in the chair. I was too satiated to care about how that looked.
Eventually, when I did open my eyes, Kenna had a smug smile on her face. She was already dressed again as if nothing had happened. I sat up to find my jeans and top again. The draft from under the door caused a chill to spread through me.
I opened and closed my mouth before words tumbled out. “That was…” I exhaled, but then I looked over at her and realised, “What about you?!” In a kind of shock. It’s not fair that I got all the big, incredible orgasm, we had sex together.
Still, she smiled. “Don’t worry about me, I took my pleasure too.” When I looked confused, she continued. “I got myself off, Laney. You made a wonderful mess.”
“Oh God,” I said with a smile. And I sent a quiet prayer that there were no hidden surveillance cameras in this room.
☆
Shortly after, we returned to my bedroom. As we always did.
She listened to my rambling and musings, and we read together snuggled on my bed. With both our eyes on the page, I combed my fingers through her hair absentmindedly, perfectly content to just feel its softness and be in her company. Yet, at the back of my mind existed a thought that had been nagging me for days now.
There is still so much I don’t know about Kenna. I had spilled my guts to this girl, gave her my first orgasm from another person, cried in front of her three times, but still, she hadn’t been forthcoming with me.
The question popped out before I could stop it. “Why don’t you tell me things as I do with you?”
She gave me a funny look, I wasn’t usually this bold. “Do you not like me as I am?”
“No, I do. I just think there’s more to know about you. Like…what is your family like?”
She swallowed and looked down. “My family wasn’t the nicest to me. I will spare you the details.”
“No!” I asserted louder than I meant, “I’d like to know the details?”
She looked me in the eyes, her eyes growing soft despite her earlier apprehension. “Princess, some things are not for sharing. The weight of such confessions are not carried alone.”
“I know. My mother died in childbirth. Every year my father mourns more. My birthday is a burden.” Kenna turned and opened her arms to me, and I fell into her warmth. While we had had sex, this was the first time we’d been genuinely intimate. I made sure to treasure it.
After a couple minutes of silence, Kenna confessed a morsel of personal detail. “When I was younger, my father and brothers used to drag me out of bed at night, tell me to grab a blanket and we’d lay on the trampoline watching the stars. Sometimes, I still go out at night to watch the sky. It’s those memories that I’d like to remember. Not the bad ones.”