faderift | CLOSED | She said, "Where'd you wanna go? How much you wanna risk?"

Clarisse lets out a breathy, distracted laugh. "Right." She doesn't quite believe that it's been a while for Ellie, but she also doesn't really care, considering how hot that little moan against her thigh has her.

And then there's Ellie's tongue, stroking deep inside. Clarisse's words, already reduced to brief one- and two-word utterances, abandon her completely, and she can only let out approving little gasps as Ellie keeps going.

That little brush of her nose against Clarisse's clit makes her moan, has her fingers curling even tighter in Ellie's hair. She presses down with her fist against the back of Ellie's head, hard, then relaxes her grip the tiniest bit, murmuring, "Fuck, sorry, I just—mm." The word please is right there on the tip of her tongue, and her hips buck a little bit, and the sound she makes is close to a whine.

Her head tilts back, pressed against the stone floor. Heat coils deep inside her, pressure that's been building since she stood up and walked across the bath and pressed her fingers against the bruises on Ellie's ribs. "Don't make me beg you, okay," she manages, knowing full well that she will, if it comes to that.

This is exactly what they both needed. Clarisse wraps her fingers into Ellie's hair tight enough to make her scalp sting, and she has to gasp a breath against her before she slides her tongue out, tracing hot, tight circles around her clit.

Ellie resolves not to tease her. She can draw this out, sure, and the thought of getting Clarisse desperate enough to beg has its merits, but not if they're both wholly on board. Getting off doesn't mean this will be over. It's really just the start of all of the things stacking up in her head, putting pressure on that building heat.

With a hum of agreement, Ellie leans into the way Clarisse is bucking her hips, riding the movements but not breaking away from her- she can breathe in this position.

Ellie strokes once along her thigh, an encouragement, before she leaves off holding her down enough to reach up and palm one of her breasts, and not entirely gently.

Every stroke of her tongue ends in a heavy flick, and Clarisse's hand is there in her hair, making sure to keep her right there. She digs her blunt nails in where her other hand is wrapped around her thigh, over her shoulder, so she won't reach down to touch herself.

It's almost embarrassing, how quick Ellie reduces her a shuddering wreck after that. Would be, if Clarisse was thinking straight, but what Ellie's doing with her tongue feels so fucking good that it doesn't matter. It's all she can focus on, the lighter stroke and then the deeper pressure of that flick against her clit, over and over again, and that sensation of heat blooming in her from the inside out.

"Fuck," she groans in a high voice that doesn't sound like herself, "Ellie—"

She rolls her hips, arching against the friction. Her whole body feels like a tightly wound spring, trembling on the edge of coming apart, and then she tumbles over it. She keeps one hand clenched in Ellie's hair as she rides out her orgasm and the shuddery little aftershocks, and only then does she let her grip slacken the slightest bit.

"Damn," she murmurs, sounding both impressed and a little dazed.

When Clarisse tightens like that, starts breathing like that, starts moving her hips, Ellie knows she's found it. A rough, hot breath escapes her, goosebumps shivering down her spine as she rides the way Clarisse fucks her mouth, making sure to never lose that pressure.

Something opens up in her chest as Clarisse tumbles over that edge, and Ellie closes her lips over her, stroking her slowly through that peak and each smaller aftershock, drawing it out until they're both gasping, and Ellie's probably left marks on Clarisse's thigh.

Smiling against her at the praise, Ellie spares her oversensitive clit for the moment, catching her breath against Clarisse's thigh, running her palm warmly along the muscles of her abs, almost petting her as she comes down.

"I mean," she says, and her voice sounds rusty, so she clears her throat. "I did say an hour."

Still trying to catch her breath, Clarisse finally releases her grip on the back of Ellie's head so she can prop herself up on her elbows again and look down at her. She's grinning, can't help herself, cheeks flushed.

"You did say that," she agrees in a soft voice, and flexes her fingers a couple times. One leg's still hooked over Ellie's shoulder, and she can feel her breath hot against the skin of her thigh. Makes her feel shivery and warm both at once.

"I wouldn't... hate that."

"Awesome," Ellie answers with a breathless smile, her eyes bright, as she hoists Clarisse's other thigh over her other shoulder, enjoying the flush and smile on her face.

She looks a lot more relaxed, too, and Ellie can't help but feel some kind of smug pride about it.

Still watching her face, she slips two fingers inside of her, warm and wet, the heel of her palm gentle where it presses against her clit, making sure it's not too direct.

She's still so sensitive that the feeling of Ellie's fingers slipping inside her, followed by that press against her clit, makes the muscles in Clarisse's abdomen twitch in a sudden jolt. She presses her teeth into her bottom lip and sucks until it hurts, just to keep herself from gasping out loud. Again.

Ellie is watching her, and Clarisse's face flushes in a way that has nothing to do with what they just did.

"Like what you see?" It could be snarky, but she's honestly feeling too good for the words to have any real bite.

"Love it," Ellie says, with startling honesty. This started as a distraction, a way to blow off some steam. But she's having a fantastic time.

She's slower now, her fingers sliding easily now that Clarisse is so very wet, twisting inside, crooking upwards to ease the pads of her fingers across that place inside and up.

"Maybe I should ask you that."

The feeling of Ellie's fingers pressing inside her, slow and slick, is amazing. Clarisse has to resist the urge to buck her hips, to ask her to move faster. She lets her breath out slowly, forcing herself to be deliberate even when every part of her wants to speed up, lose control again.

"Yes." Just as honest. There's no way she could lie, even if she wanted to. Not with the way her pupils are blown and her teeth keep pressing into her bottom lip while she stares at Ellie.

"You should get yourself off too," Clarisse says, after a moment. "So I can watch."

Fuck, she's perfect. Ellie had been starting slow, assuming she was oversensitive after getting off, but- shit. Is this a demigod thing? If so, that's a very cool demigod thing.

So Ellie breathes out and speeds up, one strong thrust of her fingers, the heel of her hand impacting her clit with a wet, filthy noise as she leans in close, gets to her feet to lean in over her, supporting herself with her bad arm. It aches, but not much.

"Scoot back," she manages, letting her go, enough for the both of them to get out of the water.

It's lovely, but she doesn't want to drown them both.

The pressure of Ellie's fingers and the aching press of her heel against Clarisse's clit, then the sudden absence of it as she draws her hand away, has Clarisse making a sound something between a whine and a moan, frustrated and turned on and eager all at once.

Her own fault, since she'd asked—actually, not asked, just sort of demanded—Ellie to touch herself, too. Still worth it.

She shifts back on the stone, using her arms, and slides her thighs off of Ellie's shoulders so that Ellie can climb out of the bath and lean over her. Wraps one arm around her instead, sliding her fingers over the slick, bruised dip of her lower back and then cupping her ass.

The cold stone floor isn't the best place to be doing this, but like hell is Ellie about to stop. She ends up on her hands and knees over Clarisse, favoring her injured shoulder.

And the both of them almost immediately forget the plan as Clarisse draws her in close. Ellie breathes out and leans in until their chests press together and she can steal a searing kiss off her lips, rolling her hips forward until they meet.

Clarisse's grip on her ass guides her movements, has her riding up along her thigh.

... small detour, but who gives a fuck.

Maybe getting off has her in a more flexible frame of mind, or something, because for once, Clarisse isn't overthinking about whether or not kissing is okay in the middle of a hookup.

She kisses Ellie back, mouth open against hers, rough and eager; shuts her eyes for just a few seconds and savors the feel of Ellie's lips, the heat of her mouth and the taste of her and the way her body's such a warm weight over Clarisse's, in contrast to the stone underneath.

Half propped up on one elbow to meet her, she keeps her other hand on Ellie's ass and uses it to keep Ellie pressed up against her, rocking down on her thigh. "You're wet," she says—half-mumbled against Ellie's mouth, teeth bumping her bottom lip— "You wanna go again?"

The kiss is a distraction, and so is the feeling of Clarisse's hands anchoring her, but nothing can really tear her away from how good the hot, hard plane of her thigh feels against her cunt and clit and- fuck, Clarisse isn't lying.

She can't remember the last time she was wet like this.

She comes up from the kiss, more for breath than to let Clarisse speak, the both of them tangled up and nearly prone.

"Yeah," she whispers, without thinking, and sits up enough, just enough to drop her good hand between Clarisse's thighs, press two fingers deeply into her again, grind the warmth of her palm up against her clit.

And then she follows it with a press of her thigh behind her hand, giving it that heavy thrust of extra force.

Her knees are going to be wrecked after this from rubbing on the stone, and perhaps Clarisse's back, but she really can't bring herself to care. Especially as she braces her bad hand on Clarisse's hip, attached to the same thigh she's riding, and rocks forward.

Her shoulder protests, but far from enough to stop.

This is so much better, actually, than Clarisse sitting back and watching Ellie touch herself.

The way they're positioned is definitely scraping her back raw, but she doesn't care, barely even feels it compared to the slick heat of Ellie on her thigh and the insistent press of her palm against Clarisse's clit. Maybe when her back hurts tomorrow she'll regret doing this, but... she doubts it.

She tilts her head back for a brief moment, catching her breath. Her body buzzes electric with each beat of her heart. "Good," she says. "I want you to."

She moves her hand to Ellie's breast, playing with it, her thumb stroking the nipple. At the same time, she presses biting, clumsy kisses to Ellie's collarbone, her shoulder, anywhere she can reach.

Ellie's shoulder protests from the first moments Ellie works her hips forward, letting the motion carry her thigh into her hand, letting her hand fuck into deep into Clarisse, two fingers and the heel of her palm working messily over her clit-

But she's not prepared for her mouth on her neck, her hand on her chest. Clarisse's teeth feel like hitting a tripwire, something that catches a gasp deep in her throat, her nipple hard against Clarisse's palm. Ellie's hips stutter, and then she fucks into her again juuust like that.

Her shoulder gives a dull scream at her, letting her know she's leaning too far forward into Clarisse's mouth, putting too much weight on it, but Ellie's not entirely sure she can stop.

She moves to brace her bad hand on the ground instead of Clarisse's hip, this time for better leverage, and oh god does it fucking pay off. Ellie sets a pace, then -- far rougher and faster than is really wise.

Ellie is so hot like this, openmouthed and panting while she fucks Clarisse's thigh and uses her fingers on her. Clarisse almost stops groping her just to stare, leaving a wet spot on Ellie's collarbone as she tilts her head back to watch.

Just for a few seconds. Then she goes back to it, because Ellie's leaning in closer like she wants Clarisse to keep kissing her, biting her, and Clarisse will keep doing whatever Ellie wants her to.

They're a little sloppy, desperate now, as Ellie fucks Clarisse with her hand, and she feels herself shiver and start to rock her hips, pushing back against Ellie's fingers, feels Ellie moving quick and rough and hot on her thigh at the same time.

She isn't thinking anymore so much as she's just—experiencing. The sweat on Ellie's skin, and the sounds of her breathing, and the heat coiling low in her and focusing to a point each time Ellie's palm hits her clit. It all feels so fucking good she wants it to go on forever and she wants to come, like, right this second.

Ellie feels the moment when she slips. She's intended to bring Clarisse off first, to wreck her with want and heat, to hear her lose herself, twisting under her as Ellie drags her into another peak and leaves her soaked and shuddering.

She's intended to follow her, to lay her down and fuck her like this, to get herself off to the sight of Clarisse splayed out under her and still riding the aftershocks.

It doesn't happen quite like that. Mostly because she's been edging herself pretty much since the last time Clarisse made her cum, and the taste of her is still on her tongue, and Clarisse's mouth is on her neck and her words are in her ears -- so I can watch, so I can watch.

"Fuck," Ellie whispers, the word tearing out of her, a vibration under Clarisse's teeth as all of her breath gets caught in her chest, mouth open and eyes shut as she shakily grinds her clit against Clarisse's skin, followed by softer, quicker gasps.

"Clarisse, fuck-"

Her voice breaks, and the rest of her does, too. Orgasm hits hard, leaves her gasping shallowly, her heart racing in her ears.

She'd known Ellie was close just by the way she was moving, breathing, and when her voice breaks right after saying Clarisse's name it almost sends her over the edge, too. She holds herself back from it, barely, trembling all over, and pulls her head back to watch Ellie come, like she'd said she wanted to.

"Gods, you are so fucking hot, Ellie." She's breathless. She can feel Ellie's heartbeat under her palm, how fast it's going, and the quick, jerky way she grinds against Clarisse's thigh, frantic and wet.

It has her gasping, hungry, desperate, shameless—she barely lets Ellie come down before Clarisse curls her fingers around Ellie's wrist and forces Ellie's palm against her clit again. Her nerve endings are all electrified, buzzing. She's so close.

"Keep going."

Ellie's hand is momentarily slack when Clarisse reaches for it, still riding out the aftershocks of having come that hard, but when the heel of her palm presses down against Clarisse's clit again, she sucks in air.

She doesn't hesitate. Still pinning down Clarisse's thigh with her weight, Ellie thrusts in deep, and without her attention on her own pleasure, she twists her wrist just so, dragging her fingertips as she pulls back out.

And she pulls back just enough to nudge a third finger in, her breath catching at how tight Clarisse is around her, giving her that extra stretch as she fucks back into her.

She doesn't say anything. She can't. Her eyes are still glazed with that heat, her arm shaking with aftershocks even through her determination to make Clarisse come as hard as she did. It's not afterglow when she feels this hungry, needs to see her face when it finally hits.

It doesn't take long.

Not with the way Ellie returns her attention to Clarisse, the way she adds another finger, stretching her, making her feel amazingly full, the way she twists her wrist just enough to send that friction all along Clarisse's nerve endings. The way Ellie's still shaking from her own orgasm even while she fucks her—that look in her eyes, glassy and determined, her mouth open.

"Fuck—" Clarisse's fingers are still wrapped around Ellie's wrist and now she tightens them enough to hurt, to bruise, not meaning to, not thinking at all about anything other than how good Ellie's fingers feel inside her. Her head tips back, pressed against the stone floor of the baths enough to hurt, but the pain doesn't even register.

"Ellie, I..." It's barely more than a gasp, lost in the wave of her orgasm as she rides it out, her body going tight, thighs shuddering, clenched around Ellie's fingers like a vise.

It's like a second orgasm, when Clarisse cums.

It breaks over Ellie in tingling hot and cold, a tightness on her lower stomach as the pain of Clarisse's grip radiates up her arm. The angle's hurting her shoulder, but she doesn't care.

Like this, it feels good. Feels like heat.

As she rides through that first wave, that second wave, Ellie presses in deep, leaning in close. Her mouth brushes against Clarisse's open lips, her eyes clouded with the heat of it as she flexes her fingers in slow, aching waves. She coaxes out one more, one more.

"There you go," she whispers, breathless and admiring and impossibly turned on, even if her body doesn't have it in her to keep going. "God, you're beautiful."

This last murmur is almost to herself, and she kisses her, ignoring the dull scream in her shoulder as she stays buried deep inside of her as the both of them come down.

Clarisse's thigh is fucking soaked.

Ellie's lips on hers, Ellie's fingers inside her, the sound of that breathless whisper as she talks Clarisse through it. Ellie's damn good at this, even if she says it's been a while.

Coming down is almost as good as getting off. She's content to lie there, kissing Ellie, riding those aftershocks, getting her breath back and her head in order. Finally she seems to realize she's got a death grip on Ellie's wrist and she slackens it. Ellie's a warm weight against her thigh, a contrast to the stone under her.

Her back's going to be scratched to shit tomorrow morning from all this lying on it. Worth it.

"Fuck," she murmurs. "Okay."

Worth it. The tension slowly leaves Ellie's hand as Clarisse lets go, as the kisses turn slow, warm. Just for how good it feels. Gentle now, she eases her finger out of her to brace her palm on stone and come down.

Ellie fully settles on top of her like a blanket, legs tangled, and lets out a breathy, disbelieving laugh in her ear.

"Holy shit."

Clarisse hadn't intended on doing this, back when she'd crossed the water to press a hand to Ellie's ribs. On making this last, on having her lips on Ellie's, or letting Ellie's body slide onto hers and tangle their legs together. On sticking around, after.

But Ellie's so warm against her, and Clarisse is still half drunk on what's just happened. She lets Ellie rest on her, feels her breathing, lets her own breaths go slow and relaxed. One hand drifts up to run fingertips along Ellie's ribs, light, barely aware she's even doing it.

"You're way too good at that," she mumbles, a slow, lazy smile tugging at her lips. "Shit."

CLOSED | She said, "Where'd you wanna go? How much you wanna risk?"

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