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Rosa Diaz Doesn't Beg

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Rosa’d had a bad goddamn day and now she was here, in one of NYC’s last remaining lesbian bars, feeling like an imposter and sticking it out anyway because dammit, Diazes don’t back down. It wasn’t even her first time here—and it was an explicitly bi-welcoming joint—it was just—

Forget it, she told herself.

She had a beer—just one, she was down for “reckless” but didn’t want to do anything stupid—and tried to arrange her facial expression into something that would send the message she wanted to send. “You may approach me if I don’t move on you first, but I’m the one running this thing”, that was the vibe she wanted to give off.

She’d told her best friend and fellow NYPD detective, Jake, that she didn’t ask people out, she just told them where they were going. And that was true, normally. She just had to get herself into the right frame of mind, and stop thinking about how satisfying it would be to tear down the shelves behind the bar and send all of the bottles crashing to the floor.

Unfortunately the old-fashioned mirror behind the shelves informed her that her face was stuck on more of a “fuck you, and not in a sexy way” setting. It had taken her years to cultivate that sour half-snarl of an expression, and now it wouldn’t behave when she wanted it to. She muttered her opinion into her beer.

Someone hopped onto the stool next to her and swung around in her direction. Rosa nearly reared up, full offense taken, before she remembered that she was there to encourage that, and let her shoulders and chin settle back down. A little. Not too much. So she’d give the other woman ol’ lazy, heavy-lidded up-and-down, and get it straight—heh—who was in charge.

But the other woman was talking before Rosa had even fully raised her eyes. “Oh, hey, I know you. You’re a cop, you were at that thing in the bank! The robbers who turned out to be Class IV anchored corporeal entities, remember? Good times, good times.” She clinked her bottle against Rosa’s.

“What?” Oh, shit. The woman with the wild blond hair was right. Rosa remembered her. Well, that was the risk of looking for a hookup in NYC. It was a lot harder to bone an actual stranger when she didn’t have time to fly to Montreal. “You’re—a Ghostbuster, right? Heinmann, or something?” After the bank incident, back in the precinct, she’d asked their secretary, Gina, if she knew this particular Ghostbuster’s name. Rosa generally tried hard to pretend that the Ghostbusters and the supernatural side of the city didn’t exist, but of course Gina knew everything about them. Unfortunately, Gina’s response had been to look Rosa over and shake her head sadly. All she would say was “If it was ever going to be possible for two people to be out of each other’s league…this is it.” Which made no goddamn sense, but that was Gina.

“Holtzmann. Holtz, if you want.” Holtzmann stuck her hand out and they shook. Out of her coveralls uniform, Holtzmann had even more personality. Badass vintage glasses, clothes that looked like she’d dressed in the dark and accidentally chosen the pieces for “sexy absentminded professor.” And Holtz’s leather jacket was maybe even more scuffed, stained, and worn-in than Rosa’s. Nice.

“Rosa. You know, tiny blondes aren’t usually my deal,” she said, trying to regain the reins. “But that ghost bank robbery? Yeah, you kicked some ass. And I like your toys. That handheld cannon thing is siiick.”

They bumped fists. Then Holtzmann took the last drink of her beer and set it on the counter. She glanced at Rosa out of suddenly wicked eyes. “I could’ve told you that your flamethrower wasn’t gonna do any good, but why pass up the chance to see you use it?”

Weapons-based flirting? Now this was something Rosa could get into. “If you thought that was tight, you ought to s—”

“Are you cool with weird stuff? You seem like you’re cool with weird stuff. I mean…’weird’…that’s really subjective. But are ya?”

Rosa rolled her eyes. “Weird is just another word for cool. Everything else is boring and du—”

“Want to see more of my toys?” Holtzmann interrupted. She slid down from her stool and stepped right into Rosa’s bubble.

“What?” Not that Rosa wouldn’t be into blowing some shit up right now, but…

Holtzmann scratched the back of her neck for a moment. She shrugged. “I’m super bad at small talk, OK? And flirting. Basically anything subtle.”

Rosa grinned.

Holtzmann’s voice lowered and everything about her became more intense. She leaned in until their noses were almost touching. “What I’m saying is, wanna get fucked?’

Guys who came onto her like this got punched in the throat if they were lucky and Rosa was feeling particularly benevolent that day. Women…well, a woman had never tried it before.

Rosa’s eyebrow twitched as she realized she was already nodding. Before she’d only noticed that Holtzmann was a fucking badass; she hadn’t figured out that Holtz was also her catnip, her Kryptonite, her favorite kind of bad decision: a genuine goddamn weirdo, and most likely a dangerous one to boot. Now, of course, it was pretty obvious.

Holtzmann grinned.

Shit, she had a really pretty smile. It wasn’t fair.

Holtz said, “We’re going to a hotel. Might as well use those big bucks from the city for something, right? My place is off limits. Cleaning sucks.”

“Legit,” Rosa said. She drained her bottle and slammed it onto the counter. “Fully legit.”

It was a nice mid-range hotel. Not the kind of place where you get called in on crack users and arsonous squatters, or the kind of place where you get called in on cocaine users and property-damaging rock stars. Rosa would’ve had to have gotten help choosing a place like that from Amy, or someone equally boring. She bet Holtz had asked one of her co-workers too.

The room Holtzmann had rocketed off toward was the murder room of the floor: all the way at the end, so there was less foot traffic and it was quieter, and right next to the emergency stairwell. Rosa might’ve been bothered if it hadn’t been the same room she would’ve chosen. Other people walking past your door is for suckers.

Holtzmann unlocked the door and paused for a moment. There was a “do not disturb” card on the door, and the lights were already on low. She must have come by and set it up earlier.

“I get the feeling you like hearing people beg,” Holtzmann said. She glanced over her shoulder and quirked an eyebrow at Rosa. “My objective tonight is to make you beg. My hypothesis is that you’re going to enjoy being on that end for once.”

What a weird girl.

Rosa tossed her head. “I doubt it, but I dare you to try and find out.”

“Fuckin’ A, we’re gonna find out.”

Rosa closed the door behind her and scoped out the room. There were leather cuffs dangling from the headboard and resting near the foot of the bed. A blindfold, too. An armchair had obviously been moved from its position near its twin, at the curtained windows, to between the bed and the desk. And a box off to one side, sitting right next to the cabinet. It was a pretty good size, a couple feet long by a couple feet wide, and maybe eighteen inches tall. It had some serious electronic locks on it.

“See anything objectionable?” Holtzmann asked as she took off her jacket. She flung it onto the desk and pushed up the sleeves of her striped shirt. She had the forearms of a woman who worked with her hands and didn’t hold back.

Rosa took her own jacket off and hung it from the doorknob. “That artsy photo over the bed is offensively boring.”

“True. Anything else?” Holtz kicked off her boots, revealing one sock covered in tattoo-style roses, and another sock covered in rainbow polka dots. Rosa would rather die than wear polka dots, let alone novelty socks. But the mismatched pair was kinda cute on Holtzmann.

Rosa glanced at the restraints and then back to Holtzmann, who’d jammed her hands in her pockets and was bouncing from foot to foot. It wasn’t like Rosa hadn’t played with restraints before—she definitely had—but she wanted to see what Holtzmann would say without prompts.

“Look, I don’t want to break the Magicians’ Code or whatever, but we both know you could bust out of those in thirty seconds if you really wanted to. Right?”

“Ten seconds,” Rosa corrected. She snorted and unzipped her own boots and pulled off her plain black socks. “Before you ask, busting the door down and leaving is my safeword. OK. What’s with the box?”

Holtzmann kicked the cabinet next to it. “These things are junk, I’m not putting my stuff in there.”

“I mean, what’s in it, asshole.” Rosa grinned a little. Though Holtz was right; hotel safes were a joke.

“A toy.”

There was a beat while they just stared at each other, blue eyes meeting brown ones. Holtz didn’t even blink.

Then it was on.

Holtzmann took a step forward and grabbed the front of Rosa’s stretchy long-sleeved t-shirt in her fist. Rosa’s eyes widened. There was another brief pause, in which maybe Holtzmann didn’t realize how close she’d just come to getting punched after all, and then Rosa went with it, and fell back onto the bed.

Holtz bent over Rosa—aha, so that was how she was going to make up for her height disadvantage—and then her hot mouth crushed Rosa’s lips, and their tongues met. God, she was like a freight train driving Rosa into the bed, none of that wimpy-ass tentative fumbling around the way most people started off. Rosa fucking loved it. She pulled Holtzmann’s head toward hers, making the kisses even harder, and Holtzmann let her.

A groaning, gasping moment later, Holtzmann yanked Rosa’s shirt off over her head. Then Holtz’s mouth was back, biting Rosa’s lip just enough that Rosa started unbuttoning her jeans herself. The other woman hadn’t really done much of anything yet, and Rosa was already wet for her.

But that didn’t mean she was going to beg.

Holtzmann’s hands slid down to help get her out of her jeans. Then Rosa felt a grin against her lips. “No underwear, huh…”

Rosa grunted affirmatively. “Why bother.”

“Efficient. OK, Hot Lips, sit up, skootch your ass over to the hotseat.”

Rosa sat up, a little dizzy but not about to admit it. She shoved herself over to the pile of pillows at the head of the bed. Holtzmann was at the side of the bed right away, holding the blindfold—just a long strip of soft cloth, not that effective for blocking vision long-term—and Rosa held still while Holtzmann put it on. Sometimes Rosa was in the mood for a tussle, but maybe not tonight.

Holtz ran her hands over the undersides of Rosa’s arms, which Rosa wouldn’t call soft, exactly, but all right, maybe a little bit more sensitive to the touch. Then Holtz grabbed Rosa’s left wrist—she’d been right, Holtzmann had real muscles in her fingers. It would actually take a little effort if Rosa wanted to wrench away from her, even if she was pint-sized. This was hotter than Rosa would’ve guessed.

Holtz tightened the strap, and the cool leather warmed to Rosa’s skin. After she’d restrained both wrists, she moved to the other end of the bed. Just the tightness of Holtzmann’s hands around each ankle as she maneuvered Rosa’s legs apart made Rosa want to squirm, but she tamped down the urge.

“All set,” Holtz said. She patted Rosa’s knee. There was a brief pause, some scrambling, and then she was straddling Rosa’s hips. Tweed pressed into her skin.

Holtz was still dressed. A choice that Rosa could respect; she’d— She lost her train of thought because Holtz’s tongue, warm and wet, was seeking out her ear, and even though it wasn’t the world’s most original maneuver, a gasp escaped before she could stop it. Holtzmann was fierce and fast, raking her teeth lightly across Rosa’s throat, tonguing a blazing trail up her carotid artery, licking her collarbone. The woman had a hell of a tongue and no hesitation at all.

Holtz’s hot mouth was still roaming all over when she suddenly tugged on a nipple—hard, just how Rosa liked it—and Rosa yelled. She was noisy in bed by nature, but she’d been pushing it down up till now. Holtz needed to know that Rosa was in total control of herself, and that begging wasn’t going to happen.

“Oooh, roger that,” Holtzmann said, a smile in her voice. Suddenly her weight was gone from Rosa, and Rosa only barely bit back a tiny whimper. A moment later both of Rosa’s breasts were encircled by Holtzmann’s hands, and both nipples were pulled away firmly, and twisted a little. Maybe something most women didn't like, but Rosa wasn't most women.

She kept it up and after an immeasurable amount of time of feeling really damn good, Rosa finally couldn’t suppress a groaning whimper, which slid into a long moan. The nice thing about the blindfold was that at least Holtzmann couldn’t see that Rosa’s eyes had rolled back into her head.

“Hell yeah, make some noise!” Holtz sounded like she was having a great time. Well, so was Rosa, so far.

Holtz went back to employing her mouth everywhere. Rosa was just starting to fuzzily wonder how limber Holtzmann was, given that the working-over of Rosa’s nipples had been relentless no matter where her mouth went, and then she felt fingers brush between her legs, sliding across her wet opening, clearly checking to see how turned on she was.

But Holtzmann hadn’t stopped her attention to either breast. And there definitely wasn’t anyone else in the room, because Rosa would have already taken everyone down if there had been, so how—

“You hang tight for Act II,” Holtzmann said. “BRB.”

“Whatever,” Rosa managed. She heard rustling, and then…nothing.

What the fuck, though. Holtz wasn’t near the bed, but Rosa’s nipples hadn’t been given a break. They were still getting worked over. So unless there was a ghost in the room...

She tried to focus on the sensation. Whatever was grasping her nipples was firm but at least a little yielding. Was this the toy Holtz had mentioned? Some kind of boob robot? Well, it was a good use of technology as far as she was concerned.

Rosa counted off a couple of minutes, although she lost track once or twice because it was hard to focus, but nothing else happened. The air conditioner came on and air rippled across Rosa’s thighs. The dampness between her legs cooled as the breeze touched her, and she tried not to shiver.

When the AC went off, Rosa strained her ears. She could hear a faint whine from the gadgets on her chest, and just barely make out Holtzmann’s breathing from a few feet away. She raised her eyebrows; maybe if the blindfold gaped a little, she could get a peek at what was going on.

No dice. And she wasn’t going to force it, because Holtzmann didn’t need to know how worked up Rosa was already. If it was a staring contest, Rosa was gonna win it.

“‘Kay,” Holtzmann said abruptly. “Had to tweak some settings. You ready? …I mean, never mind, I know you’re ready. Heh heh.” She actually said heh heh.

“Whatever,” Rosa repeated, maybe a little weaker this time. Holtzmann was still on the other side of the room, so what w—“Jesus!” Something was crawling up her legs. Definitely not insects, though. Machines of some kind, two of them, approximately hand-sized.

“Whoops. Too cold? I tried to warm them up a little first.”

“N—nah. Never mind.” Rosa wasn’t going to ask where they were going. And anyway, she probably already knew. She’d wriggled before she knew it; she really needed to be touched there now, where all the blood in her body that wasn’t in her nipples had rushed, and where every nerve was now tingling, straining to anticipate what was coming.

It started with a stroke of her outer labia, feeling all around inside until it brushed a particularly sensitive spot and Rosa grunted. Then it homed in on that spot, which hardly any of Rosa’s past sex partners had ever found, and started to rub it in circles.

Other parts of the gadgets moved down, exploring her, touching the opening—which felt good all by itself, without any penetration, but never seemed to get enough attention. It was certainly getting enough attention now.

Without stopping anything else, some part of the machine deployed itself against her clit. There was suction, and vibration, and pressure, and lapping, and stroking; hard and soft, fast and slow, deeply diffused and sharply focused.

Rosa was aware that she hadn’t stopped making noise ever since it had started, but then it hit the magic combination. “Oh my fucking god! There! That!” she shouted.

“Oh, yes ma’am,” Holtzmann said, glee plain in her voice. The manipulation of Rosa’s nipples moved into a slower cycle and Rosa was able to only concentrate on her pussy, which felt like it was lighting up, like a goddamn neon switch had been thrown.

“I’m com…oh shit, oh Jesus fuck, I’m not coming, that just—it’s just—it—oh!”

It wasn’t an orgasm, it was something right before the edge of one, but it wasn’t either fading or exploding, it just kept surging. When the muscles of her ass clenched reflexively, it felt even better. She moved her hips up and down, riding with the bright waves.

“Good, huh?”

“Muh,” Rosa said, and it went on and on, and Rosa realized she’d sailed well past the point where her partner’s fingers and arms would normally have started to give out, and they would have switched to finishing with an orgasm, and they’d be pretty much done, but it didn’t show any sign of stopping.

Sweat trickled down her neck. How long could—how long until—

There was a slurping sound, not from Rosa’s crotch, and she wondered what the hell Holtzmann had been doing all this time. She tried to coordinate herself enough to wriggle her eyebrows and work up the blindfold a little, and although it wasn’t easy to peer all the way down to the foot of the bed with how her chest was heaving—not to mention some light machinery in the way—she finally managed it.

Holtz was sitting sideways in the armchair, feet kicked up onto the desk. Fully dressed, still, her tie maybe looser but her vest still buttoned tight. Her glasses dangled from one ear, which she was fiddling with, and she was drinking a goddamn soda or something. She looked smug as hell.

Holtzmann caught Rosa glaring at her. She laughed and crossed one leg over the other. She reminded Rosa of a bodega cat taunting a dog on the other side of the window. “I can do this all night,” Holtz said. “I brought protein bars.”

“You fucker,” Rosa panted.

One side of Holtzmann’s lips drew up and a dimple emerged. “Yeah,” Holtz agreed. She winked, then dug a little box out of her pocket and did something to it.

The intensity of everything ramped up to 11 and Rosa’s eyes squeezed shut. She would’ve spat the nastiest words she knew, except her body was running things, and all she could do was thrash around on the bed. The machines held on.

“OK, OK,” Holtz said eventually. She smiled beatifically. “There. Chill out, babe.”

The sensations on her clit and labia eased off, and the vibrations got deeper and slower. Rosa couldn’t tell if it was a fucking relief or a goddamn tragedy.

Then, just as she caught her breath, it ramped back up again and she squeezed her eyes so hard that she saw stars. Rosa was dimly aware that she might’ve been swearing in Spanish, but then again, maybe she was just howling incoherently. She was going to come, she was...

And it dropped away again. OK, well, she could take it, if that’s how Holtzmann wanted to play it. Holtz would surely get bored at some point, and they’d finish, it was fine, it—

“Gonna go get some ice,” Holtzmann said. She bounced to her feet and pocketed the control. “Hang in there.”

“The hell you say—”

But the door had already clicked closed.

The machines didn’t stop, and the worst part was that the amount of time that they were dialed lower or higher seemed to be random, and Rosa kept almost almost almost getting there, and then it would relent again, and Rosa was left panting and uselessly grinding her pelvis into the air. Sweat beaded on her forehead.

Holtzmann was gone for a long time. Maybe. Rosa couldn’t tell how long it had been; no way could she count off minutes anymore.

The room dropped away and there was just Rosa and the waves of pleasure/pain from her breasts and the still bright rushes of pleasure/overwhelm from her pussy.

After some time in this space, she stopped fighting for the orgasm. Rosa wasn’t good at accepting things but she accepted that there was only one way she was going to get that release.

Until then all she could do was be carried on the tides in and out.

When she finally opened her eyes again, Holtzmann was back.

Rosa didn’t know how long she’d been there. She was perched on the chair this time, eyes bright behind her glasses, leaning forward, intensely focused on Rosa.

Rosa licked her lips. “Can I…”

“Go on…”

“Can I…Will you…”

Holtz raised her eyebrows.

Rosa took a deep breath and it flowed out of her without her even having to grit her teeth. “Please…let me come.” She didn’t even say please to her captain, she never said ‘please’ at all without an eyeroll, but she meant this, she meant everything behind the word. “Please. Please.” She couldn’t stop mumbling it now. “Oh my god, please, please, please—”

Holtzmann was on the bed before Rosa even realized that she was moving. She planted one knee between Rosa’s legs, and the other up by her hips, and slid her fingers into Rosa without missing a beat.

Right away, the pulsing on Rosa’s clit matched Holtz’s rhythm, and this time it didn’t suddenly die down, and that was almost enough right there but then Holtzmann used her other arm to pull Rosa toward her and her tongue was in Rosa’s mouth again, hard and soft, and Rosa was thrusting upwards, burying Holtzmann’s fingers in her. She was screaming against Holtz’s lips and then Holtzmann’s teeth were on her neck, and then their mouths crushed together again. Stars burst behind Rosa’s eyelids and the waves turned into a flood, carrying her whole body with it.

She shuddered as she rode it out for an eternity, and it ended, leaving her clit suddenly too sensitive, like usual. Holtzmann pulled off the machines, one-handed, before Rosa could even ask, and pushed the blindfold all the way up on to Rosa’s forehead, but she didn’t take her fingers out.

Holtz quirked an inviting eyebrow.

Rosa, who was usually one-and-done with other people just because it was less complicated, found she had another “please” left in her. Holtzmann, looking like she’d just won the lottery, took care of it herself this time, watching Rosa’s face and curling her fingers inside her until Rosa was gasping and shuddering again.

Three more pleases and finally Rosa leaned back and shook her head. She couldn’t handle any more. It was perfect already.

Holtzmann took her fingers out slowly, letting Rosa really feel it, and Rosa twitched one more time. She discovered that she was grinning like an idiot, and didn’t immediately cut it out.

“They tell me gloating is wrong,” Holtz said. “But you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you win,” Rosa said, leaving unspoken the fact that she didn’t feel like she’d actually lost.

When she’d gotten herself clean and dressed, Rosa headed for the door. She put on her jacket, then turned around to where Holtzmann was packing things away. “OK, so that was fucking hot, and it’s gonna be spank bank material for months, but if you think I’m not getting my revenge, you’re not as smart as you look.”

Holtz snapped the box lid shut and shot finger-guns at Rosa. “Counting on it. See you around, babe.”