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Wicked Games

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“You shouldn’t be.”

“Be what?”

“Be real.”

Bo felt herself tense instinctively as Tamsin drew back, her soaked clothes squelching wetly against the sides of the worn porcelain tub. She was watching her with more vulnerability in her face than Bo had ever seen before; she put up a good front so much of the time.

“You’re always in charge,” Tamsin ran a lazy finger down the rim of the tub. Under the suds her water-logged sock dragged along the outside of Bo’s thigh. “What’s that like? Not taking other people’s orders?”

“I wouldn’t really know,” Bo said warily, trying not to shy away from the rasp of the wet wool. She reached down and grabbed hold of Tamsin’s ankle as her foot tried to nudge its way under her leg. “Seems like I’ve got plenty of people to answer to.”

“Whatever,” Tamsin brushed that aside with an uncoordinated wave of her hand. “You choose to give up control sometimes. That doesn’t make you any less…” she opened her eyes wide, and Bo felt them go right through her. “Perfect,” she said with pointed finality.

“I’m not perfect,” Bo spat, her temperature rising. She wasn’t sure why this was making her angry, but who was Tamsin to come in here and drunkenly sit her ass down in her bath, and, and say these things to her in that wounded broken voice. With her big blue eyes all sincere and filled just to the brim with unshed tears. It didn’t help that she looked so damn pitiful in her wet clothes. Even if her unrestrained foot was now running up and down Bo’s left hip. “I don’t know where you get off showing up here like this.”

“Like what?” Tamsin grinned lopsidedly. “Druuunk?” she dragged the word out playfully. “Horny?” she quirked an eyebrow. Bo rolled her eyes. “Sad?”

Bo froze, eyeing her. Finally she sighed.

“Get out of my tub.”

“What?” Tamsin looked like she’d slapped her, her white face going even paler.

“Not because I’m mad,” Bo heaved up out of the bathtub, sluicing bubbles from herself with her hands. They left quivering heaps strewn across the floor that Tamsin picked past gingerly, bottle back in hand.

“And I’ll take that,” Bo plucked it from her fingers, shaking the remains in disgust. “What the hell is this?” the smell was like rubbing alcohol.

“Moon shine,” she stage-whispered conspiratorially.

“Great,” Bo shrugged on her kimono and led the way into her bedroom. “You might want to…” she turned to address Tamsin, “…strip.”

Tamsin was already sitting on her bare ass on the splintered wooden floorboards, trying unsuccessfully to disentangle herself from her pants.

“Jesus Christ, Tamsin, you’re drunk as a skunk,” Bo threw her another robe as she finally succeeded in freeing herself from the trousers.

“That’s the problem,” Tamsin drew the robe over herself, not even bothering to stick her arms into the sleeves. The silk hung loose from her shoulders, gaping across her breasts. Bo caught a flash of pink and turned away quickly, blushing, then cursed herself for it. She was a succubus, and a naked woman in her bedroom was really not that exciting. “Valkyries burn through alcohol like that,” she snapped her fingers. “I’m already practically sober,” she stood up, seeming steadier. She shook her head, rolling it on her neck to work out the kinks. “Why do you think I moved on to your liquor cabinet?”

“Gee, and here I just thought you wanted to drink me dry for shits and giggles,” Bo said drily.

“Oh honey,” Tamsin rubbed at her shoulder with a grimace, “if I wanted to drink you dry…” She left the sentence hanging between them.

“You’d what? Doubt me to death?” Bo crossed her arms.

“Something like that,” Tamsin said. “Not feeling so hot right now, though. Another time maybe.”

“That’s what several days of constant inebriation will do to ya,” Bo grumbled, bending down to grab a water bottle. She tossed it to Tamsin. “Drink up, buttercup. You’re gonna have a wicked hangover in the morning.”

“Maybe,” she unscrewed the cap and took a swig, eyes never leaving Bo. The robe parted with her raised arm and fluttered in a draft from the busted wall. Her nipples were pale and pert in the cold, an appealing shade of rose giving way to deeper red. Bo licked her lips nervously, reaching down for another as Tamsin tossed aside the empty.

She took the proffered water, looking down at it.

“So, uh, where do you want to sleep?” she asked, letting Tamsin drink while she thought it over. She eventually lowered the bottle and dropped it to the ground. It rolled under the bed.

“Bo,” she said, stopping her in her tracks as she bent to retrieve it. Something in her voice was suddenly compelling. Bo looked up.

Tamsin was standing over her, her blue eyes suddenly intense. “Bo, do you like being in charge?”

“What?” she half straightened, hand going to her sash to keep her kimono together. It stilled, the silk sash threaded through her fingers. There was heat in Tamsin’s voice, but she wasn’t sure where it was coming from, let alone what she meant by it.

“Under your bed,” Tamsin pointed. Bo tracked the path of her finger to where the water bottle lay, fetched up against the edge of a black satin box. She felt the flush spread across her face again. The trailing ends of a long black flogger were splayed out across the warped floorboards.

“Um…” the heat was rapidly spreading through her chest and stomach, but she felt light, a little giddy. Uh oh. “I’m not—“ she cleared her throat and tried again, standing up to fix her gaze to Tamsin’s. Stand your ground, succubus. “I’m not opposed to it.”

“But,” Tamsin stepped in closer, “you don’t want it all the time, do you?” It wasn’t really a question. She stooped and tugged the end of the flogger. It slid, sleek and elegant, out of the box, the end catching as it came free. Tamsin dragged the whole bin out, flipping the lid open delicately with a toe. She swung the flogger absentmindedly, hefting it in her palm as she perused the box.

“Oooo…” she stood up, a collar dangling from her fingers, “do you wear this?”

“Yes,” Bo said, snatching it away, but unable to keep herself from running it through her fingers. The leather creaked, the buckle jangling quietly.

“What about this?”

Bo swallowed. A bit gag.

She nodded.

“This?” she held up a strap on. The dark purple cock hanging from it glinted dully in the bedroom’s gloomy light.

Bo shook her head.

“Hmmm…” Tamsin grinned. “A picture begins to form.” She dropped the bit gag back into the box. “You kinky little shit.”

“Surprised?” Bo asked, trying for exasperated but landing on breathless.

“Not exactly,” Tamsin said. “More like pleasantly intrigued.”

Bo swayed a little on the spot. She hadn’t fed in so long, and… she sort of wanted this. Maybe more than sort of. She’d been sidling along the edge of the cliff with Tamsin for a while now, unsure of whether or not to jump off. This was an opportunity.

“Sometimes I end up in subspace,” she blurted, almost immediately clapping a hand over her mouth.

Tamsin’s eyebrows shot up, “Was that supposed to be a deterrant?”

“Uh, no, not exactly,” she dropped her hand, realizing that she was still holding the collar in the hand that should be holding her robe together. “I won’t break. But sometimes I need some, you know, cuddling after.”

“And you think I wouldn’t do that for you?” Tamsin looked troubled. “I may be dark fae, but I’m not a monster.”

“I don’t think you’re a monster,” Bo said defensively. “Just making sure. I don’t trust you.”

“If you don’t trust me you don’t want me hitting you,” Tamsin smirked, but her eyes were serious.

“I don’t trust your motives,” Bo clarified. “I don’t doubt your sexual prowess.”

“Then come here and find out,” Tamsin dropped the flogger and strap on to the bed, gently taking the collar from her slack hands. Bo closed her eyes, feeling that floaty sensation starting to encroach again. Tamsin’s fingertips brushed past the edge of her kimono, sliding inside to coast up her ribcage. The sash came apart and Tamsin pushed it off her shoulders. It fell to the floor with a soft rustle.

“Hold still and be quiet.” Tamsin’s voice had changed perceptibly, taking on an edge Bo hadn’t heard before. She shivered again, opening her eyes. Tamsin was behind her, undoing the buckle on the collar from the sounds of it. It swung into her line of vision as Tamsin made to settle it around her throat. The rasp of the leather through the buckle made her knees weak, but Tamsin had told her not to move. She wanted to make Tamsin happy.

“Close your eyes. Our word is ‘wanderlust’,” she breathed in her ear. “Do you understand?” her fingers twisted into Bo’s hair, pulling just hard enough to make her hiss.

“Yes.” She squeezed her eyes shut.

“Good girl,” she was gone, rummaging through the toy bin from the sounds of it. She made a quiet satisfied sound and then was back, her hands on Bo to position her. Bo felt the chipped wood of her four-poster bed under her hands, the slip of smooth rope against her wrists. She held still while Tamsin tied her hands together, sliding a few fingers under the robe, yanking the knots tight. Even with her eyes closed, Bo knew what this must look like, with Tamsin’s steely eyes following every precise movement, her own body still flushed and soft from the bath. Every part of her felt tingly and alive.

By the time Tamsin was done, she was ready to burst. The build up was so much, the touches light and infrequent, and shit, she wanted her to make good on the implied threat of the flogger. She squirmed a little, rubbing her legs together, wondering what the hell was taking Tamsin so long.

“What did I tell you, bitch?” Tamsin’s open palm landed on her ass with a smack, loud and sudden enough to elicit a surprised cry.

“Hold still,” Bo whispered, shame welling up. She had just wanted to be touched.

“And?”

“Be quiet,” she repeated back.

“Do you deserve to be punished?” Tamsin asked, her voice deadly quiet. “You little slut, you just couldn’t wait, could you?” Bo shook her head frantically. “Tell me you want to be punished.”

“I’m so sorry, mistress, I didn’t mean to, I deserve to be punished, I know I do,” she tripped over her words in her rush to make sure Tamsin knew she was sorry. “I want to be punished, please. Please spank me. I’ve been bad.”

“That’s enough.” She cut off, going silent, grasping the bedpost harder.

The first smack was firm enough to jolt her forward, but she braced herself against the bed and held in her gasp. Tamsin had found the paddle, then. It took her hard across her ass, the sting dissolving a little as she glided smoothly into the sensation. She clung to the post, hearing the rush of the paddle through the air, the hard thwap as it made contact, the diffuse prickle across her skin, the wet rush between her legs.

“Wanted to spank your pretty little ass for so long,” Tamsin said, and she bit her lip to contain a moan. Holding still was so hard. All she wanted was to touch herself, to touch Tamsin, but Tamsin hadn’t said she could yet. “You’re so ready for it, you slut, so wet already,” the paddle landed again. “It’s fucking filthy.” Again. “Want me to fuck you?” Again. “Tell me you want me to fuck you, slut.” Again.

“Fuck me. Please fuck me. Fuck me like this.”

“You want me to spank you while we fuck?” Tamsin sounded amused.

“Yes. Yes please.”

“Too fucking bad,” Tamsin sounded pleased with herself, and god, yes, she should, she was in charge, she was so good. The paddle landed again, Bo holding resolutely still and silent, determined to be good for the duration of her punishment. It went on and on, until she knew her ass must be rosy and everything felt hypersensitive, and Tamsin gently skimming a finger across the swell of it made her want to cry out. There was a clunk—Tamsin dropping the paddle to the ground?—and then the finger traced down the cleft of her ass, rubbing over her entrance. It was almost impossible not to buck back into the touch, especially when Tamsin’s fingers spread her lips and smoothed up them to her clit, her touch wet and warm, her breath on the back of Bo’s neck sweet and a little spicy, tinged with whiskey. She pressed a kiss between Bo’s shoulder blades, hot and open mouthed and obscene as her tongue traced down her spine, pulling off at the small of her back. Bo wanted to wail at the loss, but settled for inhaling sharply as Tamsin bit her.

“Good girl,” Tamsin whispered against the skin of her ass, finger sinking into her. She choked back her moan. “How many can you take?” Tamsin asked, sliding another in, teeth scraping, thumb of her left hand spreading her cheeks apart. Bo thumped her head into the bedpost, fingers scrabbling uselessly for purchase. The teasing was almost unbearable, but Tamsin was in charge, and if Tamsin wanted to tease her, she would be reduced to a quivering puddle of blissed out succubus before she gave in and disobeyed.

But maybe Tamsin was getting bored, because she stopped abruptly, leaving Bo to sag against the post.

“Open your eyes and turn around.”

Tamsin was standing in front of her, wearing the strap on. It settled low on her hips, the cock jutting out from between her legs. “On your knees.”

Bo obeyed, waiting until Tamsin took hold of the back of her head before she opened her mouth. Tamsin nudged the head of the cock between her lips, holding her still with fingers twined through her hair. The burning on her ass and the tugging at her scalp kept her grounded. Her eyes fluttered shut as Tamsin spoke again, “Suck. And look at me, bitch.”

Bo opened them again, keeping her eyes trained upward as Tamsin fucked forward into her mouth. The cock was slick and heavy in her mouth, stretching her lips taut, and she imagined how it would feel inside of her. Wet from her tongue, warm from her mouth, almost too fucking good to handle. She moaned a little when Tamsin pushed in even further, but she relaxed her throat. She had to be good for Tamsin, show her that she could take every inch of it.

“Good girl,” Tamsin said, and Bo preened. Her voice was just barely unsteady, and she was breathing hard, her breasts swaying back and forth as she fucked in and out of Bo’s mouth. “You wanna get fucked?”

Bo nodded around the cock. Tamsin hadn’t told her to stop sucking yet.

“Onto the bed,” Tamsin threaded a finger through the metal ring attached to the collar and pulled.

Bo scrambled up, following Tamsin by the collar ring. Tamsin pushed her back onto the bed, and Bo threw her bound hands up over her head, spread her legs. She hoped she looked the picture of a good, patient girl, but Tamsin only laughed.

“You just can’t wait for it, can you, succubus?” she grabbed Bo by the thighs and pulled until her ass was just at the edge of the bed. “That’s ok. I like you like this.” And then she thrust in.

Bo couldn’t hold back her whimper. Thankfully, Tamsin only smirked, “Is that as loud as you can be, bitch?”

“No,” Bo admitted. “I can be louder.”

“Then let me hear you.”

Tamsin drew her hips back again, fingers digging into Bo’s thighs, bringing their bodies together harder, faster, deeper, making Bo writhe, begging for more. She knew dimly that there’d be bruises tomorrow, that they were probably shaking the whole house, that there was a good chance they were gonna break her shitty old bed, but she also didn’t care about any of that. Tamsin was fucking her like nothing she ever could have imagine, spewing such filth that she might be blushing if she could think straight, if she wasn’t getting off on it so much.

She could feel the hot coil building deep and low as the sex raged on, Tamsin thrusting like she’d never get tired, her hands on Bo’s breasts, her hips, her thighs, stretching them up so that her knees were flung over her shoulders while she fucked in deeper. She collapsed over top of her, nearly folding her in half, and her eyes locked onto Bo’s. They were focused, bright, her pupils blown huge in the half-light. Suddenly her thrusts became erratic, and Bo vaguely realized she was coming, and that just…

Bo shouted, bowing up from the bed, her pussy probably wringing the cock, pulling Tamsin in closer as she came too, her thrusts wild. She fell toward the bed, a half-controlled sprawl, dragging Bo over and on top of her.

“Kiss me,” she gasped, and Bo’s mouth crashed down onto hers, the kiss hot and wet and without anything like finesse, but so fucking good anyway. Bo’s bound hands found their way over Tamsin’s head, and she used them to yank Tamsin closer, pull her up off the bed to meet her.

“Fuck,” Tamsin fell back onto the bed, looking thoroughly fucked out. Bo felt pretty wrung out herself, but she mutely held out her wrists to Tamsin. Tamsin laughed breathlessly and reached up to untie her.

“Thanks,” Bo crawled alongside her. She almost hesitated for a moment, but then, she’d warned Tamsin ahead of time. She draped herself over Tamsin’s body, and Tamsin stroked at her hair absently, her eyes already fluttering closed.

“You’re welcome, succubus.” Then, quieter, “Anytime.”