Eve wishes her kiss would taste like poison.
That Villanelle’s lips would burn and scar her, be the most horrific thing she’s ever touched. And finally, Eve could rest, free of the daydreams haunting her. Released from the feverish attraction.
Lying to herself seems to be the only thing she’s capable of these days.
No knife keeps the women apart this time. The darkness of Villanelle’s gaze shows the depth of her desire. She’s waiting, but the thin space between the two of them is driving her crazy. Eve’s eyes run over her lips countless times. Just like her thoughts. Over and over again, always circling around Villanelle. The more she thinks about her, the further she falls from everything sensible.
Tears creep at the corners of Eve’s eyes. She’s so close. So close she can feel Villanelle’s breath gracing her lips, smell the perfume around her neck, almost hear her heart pulsating with Eve’s own. But Eve is unable to close the gap between them.
So Villanelle does it for her.
And her kiss is everything but terrifying.
Her lips are too soft for a person so cold-blooded. The kiss is too gentle, a simple brush to soothe Eve’s trembling. A collision that lures her in for more, but not without the chance to back out. Eve holds her breath as their eyes meet.
Villanelle is smiling. She’s dreamt of this for a time that felt like an eternity. She’s kissed so many women, always wishing they were her. Excitement blooms in her chest in a way it never has before. She almost thought it would be impossible for her to feel this way.
Before Villanelle can tell her any of that, Eve chases more of her.
The crashing of their lips hides Villanelle’s grin. For a moment, at least for a moment, Eve lets go of everything that has been holding her back. Her pride, her anger, her morals… Ease their hold on her. The invisible glass between them finally shatters. Eve’s hands reach for Villanelle’s face and she cradles her cheeks as they kiss, the warmth of her palms seeping to Villanelle’s skin. She wants to feel her by her fingertips, to ensure that this is really happening, that Villanelle won’t disappear as Eve snaps out of another dream.
Villanelle isn’t going anywhere: the harsh grip she has on Eve’s waist keeps them in place. Their kisses are full of unspoken emotions. Passion they both feel but have never admitted out loud. Heat and tension that finally have an outlet. It feels better than either of them has imagined.
Villanelle’s lips nurse Eve’s like she’s the most precious thing in her life. Now that she has her, she doesn’t want to stop, not even for a second. Villanelle’s hands travel under Eve’s jacket, feeling the soft shapes of her sides. Her touch wanders on Eve’s back until her fingers are playing with the waistband of her trousers.
“No knife this time,” Villanelle whispers at the positive discovery, a playful smirk tugging the ends of her mouth. Eve lets out a groan and she’s quick to shut the girl up with another kiss.
Eve doesn’t want to be reminded about that. Eve regrets she chose the longer path to her, because Villanelle is an excellent kisser and awfully infatuated with her. Her love is certainly crooked, but there is something very genuine about it. Something that makes Eve want to risk everything for her. With their lips still sealed on another, Villanelle strips the older woman’s hands from her face and holds them in her own until the end of their kiss.
She then speaks again: “I don’t remember reading about this on my working contract.” Eve is heavily out of breath as Villanelle guides her to take few steps backwards. “But I can deal with this,” the girl continues, her ardent eyes not once leaving Eve’s body. The game between them is never ending. Villanelle pushes her against the kitchen island, pressing their bodies together.
Eve feels tugging on the sleeves of her jacket.
“You don’t need this. I’ll keep you warm,” she reassures with a smug little smile. Her expression is enamored as she pushes some of the dark curls behind Eve’s ear. They get rid of the jacket as Villanelle busies herself with laying tiny kisses to the shorter woman’s jawline.
“Vil,” Eve breathes, tilting her head to the side and giving Villanelle’s lips more room. Why does she have to feel so lovely?
“You don’t have a working contract,” Eve continues, “and if you did, you wouldn’t have read it…” she sighs.
“Oh wow.” Villanelle stops to look at her, astonished. “Why are you so rude to me, Eve?” She furrows her brows at the older woman. Without warning, Eve feels Villanelle’s grip on her thighs. She lifts Eve on the counter behind her and in one swift motion she’s between Eve’s legs, tugging her close by her lower back. Eve’s woolen shirt is sticking to her arms out of sweat and Villanelle’s silky robe is starting to seem like a much more comfortable choice.
Their next kiss is rougher. Villanelle sinks her palms into Eve’s hair, not afraid to grab and pull to her heart’s content, fully enjoying the gasps Eve tries to hold back. Villanelle wants her to stop acting, to stop caring. She thinks too much, she’s always thinking too much. It’s just the two of them. In this moment, they can do whatever they will. Only they have to know, despite Villanelle being awful at keeping secrets.
The taller woman works skillfully between Eve’s lips as their tongues tumble together. The lustful haze grows thicker in Eve’s mind every time Villanelle’s hand trails near her neck. So far Eve has managed to ignore the increasing ache between her thighs, but she’s losing the fight at high speed.
“Touch me, Eve,” Villanelle’s sudden words pour out as a whine, yet still enough steel to sound like an order, “Or is that all your hands are capable of?” She’s grown tired of her lover fiddling with the ties of her robe.
Eve raises her hands to Villanelle’s sides, hesitantly slipping her other hand beneath the cloth. Villanelle isn’t wearing a shirt underneath; her smooth abdomen feels heated and tight. Eve wonders whether her touch burns the younger woman, similar to the kisses Villanelle bestows all around her face, setting her skin aflame. Eve finds the underside of Villanelle’s breast and slides her fingers around it, cupping the softness to her palm before squeezing.
“Malyshka,” Villanelle murmurs into their kiss and Eve captures the girl’s lower lip between her teeth. She sucks on the flesh, not caring if it leaves her a bruise. A wicked grin plays on the assassin’s face after she lets go.
They clash together once again, and Villanelle leans to her lover’s touch, eager to feel more of Eve caressing her chest, the peak of her breast hardened beneath the moving thumb. The blonde’s lips get hasty and aggressive, as if she’s challenging Eve to keep up with her. Villanelle wants to hear her breath hitch, feel the whimper that escapes from the beautiful throat surrounded by her hand. When their eyes meet, Villanelle’s gaze is but a storm, blooming with the feral darkness that attracts Eve more than what one would consider ideal.
“We should get to the bed,” Villanelle tells her in a low voice, forcing herself to tear her eyes away from Eve’s swollen lips. The blonde raises her eyebrows: “unless you have a thing for kitchens? I’ll gladly—”
“No, the bed is, the bed is good.” Eve shakes her head.
“Wonderful.” A loving kiss lands on the bridge of her nose.
As they move, Eve is hit again with the improbability of the situation. An internationally hunted assassin is helping her out of her clothes, dropping them to the floor of her apartment piece by piece. Eve has seen this woman kill; she knows her ruthless and manipulating nature better than anybody, and yet she’s drowning to her arousal. Villanelle can’t fake the excitement of her heart, she believes. Villanelle is genuine with her, but why, is something she can’t answer. Neither of them can. The same assassin comments on her underwear and asks Eve to remind her about buying new lingerie for her.
“Oh, shut up,” Eve hisses, settling on the mattress and Villanelle crawls over her like an excited cat who’s unable to stay still. The pillow under Eve’s head basks in the scent of Villanelle’s shampoo.
“You’re so funny, Eve,” the blonde snickers. Eve’s heart pounds harder as Villanelle presses her face against her midriff. She nuzzles yearningly against Eve’s skin, cherishing her warmth, her scent, everything there was to her.
“God, I’m so crazy about you,” she whispers then, grabbing Eve’s hand and bringing the back of it to her lips.
Her darling Eve. Villanelle closes her eyes as her lips turn into a smile against the other woman’s hand.
For few seconds, Eve doesn’t breathe at all.
When Villanelle’s head is finally between her thighs, it’s worse than torture.
Villanelle takes her time, enjoying it to the fullest extent. Too much time for the pooling ache at the pit of Eve’s abdomen. Eve’s close to a point of combustion only from Villanelle’s thumbs rubbing over her clit, the slow and massaging motion irresistible. Eve rolls her hips to it, pleasure shivering everywhere in her body. As if it wasn’t enough that Villanelle spent an eternity simply caressing the length of her legs and stroking her inner thighs. Eve has trouble deciding whether to close her eyes and let herself engulf in the emotions, or to watch Villanelle play with her. Even now, the younger woman is teasing, keeping her so close, so ready and still so far from satisfaction. Such a cruel creature.
Villanelle tells her everything she’s going to do. How there is no need to hurry, for they have the whole night to themselves, and she will show Eve the kind of rapture she has never experienced before.
“Nobody loves you like I do, Eve,” she says, her breath heavy, “nobody can give you what I can. There are no limitations with me.” Villanelle has the key to her shackles. Eve believes her. She’s here because she believes her. That’s why Villanelle’s kisses feel heavenly and the touches between her thighs even better.
Eve can tell how long Villanelle has dreamt of this as her lips can’t get enough of her taste. Villanelle devours her like it’s her first and last chance to do so, because in a relationship like theirs, one couldn’t be too certain of the future, but Villanelle makes sure they wouldn’t be apart anymore due to either of them. Eve presses Villanelle’s head harder against her, needing to feel her tongue buried in her depths. Villanelle drowns herself in her, smearing her face in Eve’s heat.
The way Villanelle makes love to her is incomparable. Eve knows she is ruined from anybody else. She reaches her peak faster than she could have ever imagined, the sole work of Villanelle’s mouth too overwhelming to bear. Before withdrawing, the assassin places a sloppy kiss on her folds. Villanelle’s cheeks are burning as her eyes swallow the sight before her. Eve looking so untamed because of her, rapid breathing escaping her lungs, her gorgeous hair sprawled on Villanelle’s pillows. She bites her lip.
“Very good,” the assassin’s voice is raspy, “for a start,” she grins.
Villanelle changes her posture and strips out of the robe that has already escaped down her shoulders. She climbs to Eve’s side, yearning to collide with her again, letting the woman taste herself from her lips. Their mouths are open, hard with need but soft and swollen as their lips suck and slide together. Villanelle’s fingers are drawing circles on Eve’s skin as Eve stares deeply into Villanelle’s eyes, both breathless after their kiss. Refusing to waste any further resources on thinking about it, Eve jumps to a decision which to her is even more crazy than what they’ve done so far.
“I love you,” she blurts out the words in the smallest of whispers. Tears climb back to her eyes on an instant, but this time more of relief than anything else. It doesn’t matter whatever the future would bring. At least she is free of hiding the confession inside her, the sentence that has been eating her alive from inside out.
“I know,” is Villanelle’s reply. “I’ve known for a long time. I knew it even before you did,” she smiles, beaming with pride. They are made for each other.
Eve has known, but the thousand shadows of denial and guilt have kept it buried until now. Heavy feelings that are now gone… For good.
“And I’m going to show you it’s worth it,” Villanelle promises, sealing her words with a kiss as soft as their first one.