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Chapter Text

Being slightly drunk and not being able to touch the girl next to her that smelled like a mixture of sweet native flowers and something dark and musky for a full hour made Rachel feel like she was going to spontaneously combust.

Once they pulled up into the resort and Santana shut the engine off, Mike was up and out of that car with an Olympic quickness, and Quinn wasn’t much better.  Rachel watched her shake out her shoulders as soon as her feet were on solid ground.  For her part, Rachel got out of the car the same way as Mike, leaving Quinn to stretch and make a ridiculous show out of the great pains she’d endured by simply sitting next to Rachel.

Santana cleared her throat like she was about to announce the name of the next pope.

“Well, Georgia’s visiting her family for the weekend, so you know what that means.  I’ll see ya when I see ya.”  It was obviously meant for Quinn, who only blinked and nodded, not even offering Rachel a glance as she began walking towards the staff cabins.

Rachel stood there for a second, watching her.  Something deep within her felt that the moment was overripe, that if she waited any longer it would wither and die and there would be nothing left for her to do or say, if there even was now.

She followed her.  She made her feet quick and light like the dancer she had quickly become, but nevertheless, about halfway to their destination, Quinn turned around.

Exasperated did not even begin to describe her face.

“You’re following me.”

“I had rather hoped I’d be stealthy enough to go unnoticed.”

Quinn was walking backwards now, and it had to have been quite an effort, made much worse by the fact that she had temporarily closed her eyes, vexed.

“That’s insane.”

Rachel nodded, trying to pick up speed, though Quinn just turned around and hustled even harder.

“I'm beginning to realize that.”

“Are you trying to kill me, or something?”  Quinn asked, the question almost a shout since they were no longer facing each other. It was such a deflated question, too, so empty of any real malice that it almost felt like a joke.  Though, Rachel knew that there was no joking going on between the two of them.  Not anymore.

Quinn was still walking at a clip, if anything her pace had increased, and because she couldn't do a single other thing but follow her, Rachel was still walking as well.  As she spoke, her voice bounced with every step she took.

“I just want to talk to you, Quinn.”

Quinn scoffed and it sounded like some kind of animal shuffling in the darkness.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Rachel, you made yourself very clear the first time. You need to just forget what I said.  It was a mistake.”

Rachel felt her heart lunge forward at the idea that Quinn wasn’t just sour about her rejection, but regretting the whole thing, second-guessing how she felt and coming to the conclusion that she did, in fact, not actually like Rachel as much as she thought she had.

They had just been so close, hadn’t they?  Day in and day out, running their fingertips over sensitive skin.  Anyone could get confused. That’s what Rachel had told herself for days, anyway.  She knew, now, that it was more than that.  Not a bone in her body was confused about what she wanted.

“But I didn’t make myself clear, Quinn! I made myself... opaque! Like mud! I reacted poorly, and I know I don’t deserve forgiveness but if you could just listen to me–”

“I don’t want to hear that we’re so much alike despite our many differences.   This isn’t a Good Housekeeping article about the enduring power of ladies’ friendships, okay?”

Quinn stomped up the steps to her cabin porch, back still firmly to Rachel, though she paused at the door.  She was slightly out of breath, and it made her voice sound almost childish.

“And I don’t want to hear about how charmed you are by me, okay?”  She looked back over her shoulder, her dimpled chin brushing against the fabric of her shirt.  Rachel practically ran up the steps, stopping less than a foot away from Quinn like she had used every ounce of will within her to keep from pounding her whole body into Quinn’s – to keep from pushing her, maybe, like she’d done that one day in the old rec.

“But I am so much more than charmed by you!” She shouted, close enough to Quinn’s side that she could see her breath move the little hairs not tucked behind her ear.

Quinn closed her eyes again, reaching down and grabbing Rachel’s wrist before forcibly pulling her inside of the cabin and shutting the door.  Inside, the place was a perfect picture of she and Santana’s warring personalities. Clean and well-kept on one side, bed nicely made, and on the other, the aftermath of a tornado.  Rachel nearly smiled before she saw the anger on Quinn’s face.

“You can’t just go around saying things like that out there, okay?” It was a shout to rival Rachel’s.  Quinn brought her hand to her forehead and then shook her head roughly, like she was trying to unseat some horrible thing inside of her brain.

“Well then I’ll say it in here.” Rachel said, quieter.  It would have been a whisper, but she didn’t want Quinn to be able to pretend she couldn’t hear her.

Quinn went to the tiny icebox in the corner of the cabin, sat atop a table with oatmeal and cereal boxes stacked underneath.  Rachel imagined Quinn eating her oatmeal in the morning, her hair mussed, makeupless. Every cell in her body sang with the idea that she might ever see something like it.

She opened the door and pulled out a little carton of apple juice, obviously nicked from the kitchens, and just stared at it like it was a beer and she was a drunk.  Rachel decided to speak then and ask for forgiveness later.

“I am not the type of person that scares easily, but – you scare me, Quinn.  You have since the day I met you.”

Rachel walked to where Quinn stood letting all the cool air out of the ice box, and rested her hip against the single counter in the kitchenette.  Quinn still stared at her carton of juice like it held the answers to all of life’s problems but was being withholding that day. Rachel watched her chin wobble and then she was just squaring her jaw, gritting her teeth.

“Yeah, I know, I was an asshole, and I’m sorry, okay?  We get read the riot act every staff meeting about keeping clear of the guests.”

Rachel let her head loll to the side as Quinn set the juice down on the counter that she was resting against.  It put them closer, a hair’s breadth between their forearms brushing.

“Yes, you were particularly abrasive, but – it wasn’t that.  Before I walked into that old rec center and saw all of you dancing like you didn’t have a care in the world, I was a different person, Quinn.  You – you touched me, you looked into my eyes, and I became someone else entirely. I haven’t recognized myself in weeks.”

Quinn pressed her arms into her sides, fisting at the fabric of her skirt.  The little hairs on her arms weren’t blonde, Rachel realized, they were a light mousy brown that faded out into nothing at her wrists.

“That sounds terrible.” Quinn croaked out. Rachel did the unthinkable and reached out, placing her outstretched fingers on Quinn’s forearm.  Her skin immediately prickled with goosebumps, but she didn’t move away from the touch.

“Doesn’t it?” Rachel asked, her chin raised as she studied Quinn’s face.  Quinn looked tired, and Rachel supposed she probably did, too. It was late, and the week had been relentlessly long.  Mostly, she was just tired of not touching Quinn.  

“Only, it’s thrilling, not terrible.  It’s realizing that every moment I’ve spent thinking that I was alive before then, well…”

Rachel leaned forward, a deep lean, not wanting to waste another minute being so far apart.  Quinn wasn’t running or sneering or telling Rachel she didn’t want to be around her.  It was a start.

“I wasn’t.  Not really. And maybe someone will make me feel this way again, but nothing and no one ever has before. I didn’t know what it was!  I didn’t know what it was because I’d never felt it.”  She shook her head, biting the corner of her mouth, trying to decide where to go next.  They were close as anything, could only be closer if they were holding each other.  Rachel could feel Quinn’s little breaths against her flushed chest, rising and falling.

She reached down and pried Quinn’s hands from where they were wrenching her skirt.  At first she ran her thumbs along the girl’s knuckles, and God, it felt like she was being shot full of the world’s strongest painkiller, but it wasn’t enough.  She squeezed Quinn’s hands before moving hers up to cup her cheeks.  Quinn looked down at her, blinking and blinking, her teeth scraping over her bottom lip before she closed her eyes.

“Rachel, you don’t have to–”

“Do you not see what you mean to me?” Rachel asked, almost frantic.  Quinn’s eyes popped open.

“I suppose that you don’t.  Let me show you.”

She leaned up, on her tiptoes, and Quinn was backing up into the ice box, but Rachel still made her mark.

She had kissed three people before that summer, one at camp just before sixth grade, a loose tooth fiasco that she’d rather not dwell on, another her sophomore year, just a boy in one of her classes that had been too afraid, she thought, to say no to her. And then Finn, of course.  Their kisses had ranged from soft to hard to loving to languid to needing and everywhere in between.

It had been a pressing of lips, an exploration of tongues.  When Rachel kissed Quinn, there was nothing.  Quinn’s mouth remained shocked still for seconds while Rachel simply strained her pursed lips against it.

And then, miraculously, Quinn began to kiss her back.  Quinn began to kiss her back, and it was like someone had set Rachel over a burning pyre.

Her hands were tentative, coming to rest somewhere on Rachel’s waist, then her ribcage.  But her lips practically scooped Rachel’s mouth up, smooth and soft and so achingly slow that Rachel moaned, completely unbidden into the girl’s mouth.

“I’m sorry, I must taste like–” Rachel started to apologize, thinking of her drinks that night, the stale beer, but then Quinn took the opportunity that presented itself – Rachel’s parted lips – and licked at the inside of her mouth.  Rachel’s resulting moan was indecent.

“You taste good.” Quinn murmured against her lips, her hands moving up to the back of Rachel’s neck as she cocked her head and ran her tongue over Rachel’s again and again.  There was no exploration, no question.  They both matched each other, stroke for stroke, like it had been planned for years, for their whole lives.  Rachel ran her hands down Quinn’s neck and over her shoulders before wrapping her arms around her waist and pulling her closer until they were hip to hip.  Quinn let out a small feminine grunt in response, and their kiss deepened.  Her fingernails pressed into the base of Rachel’s skull, weaving into the hair there as she sucked on Rachel’s tongue.

Rachel hadn’t even known you could do something like that, though it was obvious now that she could do anything, anything she wanted.  She pulled her mouth away from Quinn’s to look at her, reveling in how blown the girl’s pupils were, the rim of irritated pink around her mouth.  Rachel had never seen anything so overwhelming in her life before.

“God, you are so sexy.” She said, her breath hitching just after, embarrassed at how thoroughly unmanaged the words were coming out of her mouth.  Quinn squinted, the skin on her nose wrinkling as she tried to hold back an equally embarrassed smile.

“S-sorry, that was too forward, I know–”

“Rachel – your tongue was just in my mouth.  That’s just about as forward as you can get without–”

Rachel stopped up Quinn’s mouth with a firm kiss, her arms coming even tighter around Quinn’s waist, holding her like she would slip right through her hands if she didn’t.  In turn, Quinn removed her hands from Rachel’s hair and softly, slowly scratched her fingernails down Rachel’s spine.  She gasped into Quinn’s mouth, her breath now coming in quick, desperate pants.

She was ridiculous, like a dog , and then Quinn was pressing her thigh between Rachel’s legs like they were dancing, but this wasn’t a dance, this was Quinn’s hips grinding into hers, Quinn’s groin pressing into the warm, waiting spot between Rachel’s legs over and over.

Something was in the way though – Quinn’s skirt, it was long and pleated in the front and had no business being on her body. Rachel hooked her thumbs in the waistband of the thing and then paused, thoughtfully, as she felt Quinn suck her stomach muscles taut.

Perhaps that was too much, too fast.  She let her hands come back up to simply knead Quinn’s waist, and pleased with the way the girl melded her body into Rachel’s own, she forgot all about that aggravating skirt.

She especially forgot all about it after Quinn herself reached down and hiked it up so that it was only tenting their hips.  Rachel groaned low as she felt Quinn’s smooth thigh slide against her own.  Her panties were silk and Rachel could feel the fabric wrinkling in place with every thrust.

After a quick nip to Quinn’s bottom lip, one that was most pleasingly chased, Rachel held her head back, looking at the girl again.

Her girl.  She would never have said it out loud, but she felt it too strongly not to at least think it to herself. Quinn looked at her for a moment, her face awash in an adorable confusion, then a small smile played at the corner of her mouth.

“What?” She asked, thoroughly out of breath.

“Do you remember the song we danced to? That night that you stole me from Sam?”

Quinn’s mouth split open into a full-on grin at the memory.  Rachel couldn’t help it, she leaned in to kiss her cheek, then the other, then her chin.

“I remember,” Quinn nodded, craning her neck to the side to allow Rachel to place small kisses along her jawline.  Her eyelids fluttered closed. “I have the record.” She said, swaying in place, her grip on Rachel’s body causing her to move in time as she kissed every inch of Quinn’s face.

“You do?” Rachel asked, taking Quinn’s hands, excitedly shaking them. “Where are your records?”

Quinn seemed to ignore Rachel, leaning in to capture her lips in the wettest kiss they’d shared yet.  The tip of her tongue immediately found Rachel’s, teasing it, promising things that Rachel couldn’t even begin to imagine.

“Can we play it?” She asked, pulling back from Quinn’s lips with a sucking sound that made her regret ever saying anything at all.  Quinn regarded her for a moment, perhaps wondering if she should continue to ignore Rachel, if she could just beat her down with kisses until they were both piles of goo on the floor.  But, her shoulders fell, and she nodded, turning around and walking towards the record player.

Rachel wasn’t far behind.  It was no longer in her repertoire to deny herself the primal urge to touch the girl in front of her – to not only touch her, but to hold her, to seize her like a prize.

She came up behind Quinn and wrapped her arms around her waist, pressing her cheek against the back of her neck. Quinn welcomed the touch, using one hand to lace her fingers with Rachel’s and the other to leaf through a stack of records.  She made a little pleased sound in the back of her throat when she found what she was looking for, and Rachel kissed her hair for it, eyes closed, in disbelief that she could do this, that they were just – allowed to.

Her hair smelled like cigarette smoke and faded Aquanet and underneath it, the sharp golden scent of Halo shampoo.

Quinn put the record on, dropping the needle where she must’ve known their song might be.

The music began to play. Quinn’s hips swayed as she turned around in Rachel’s arms.

Rachel was desperate to kiss her again, but Quinn had her in a formidable grip, and she was situating them in the exact same position they’d been in that night.  

Rachel found that she liked being handled by Quinn, being placed however she liked.

Her nipples were hard and there was a mess between her legs – the accumulation of weeks of pent up something. It was unbearably warm and wet and she knew, now that Quinn had pressed herself against Rachel, that the feeling was most exactly mutual.

Rachel swallowed hard as Quinn rolled her hips to the beat of the song. There was too much between them, too much fabric, too much space, too much unknown.  She reached out and began undoing the buttons at Quinn’s neck, already telling herself that she wouldn’t even care if she was denied.

It didn’t matter much, because Quinn only licked her lips, her thumbs massaging circles into Rachel’s hip bones as she guided her into a slow dip.  She hadn’t realized it that first night, far too caught up in the scandal of the act, but the motion allowed her aching, hot center to get just the littlest bit closer to Quinn’s.  Her hands dropped, not because she didn’t want to continue, but because she suddenly had no proper control over any of her normal faculties.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she could hear Quinn’s low, throaty chuckle, though when she was brought back up and opened her eyes, there was only a soft, sweet look on the other girl’s face.  Rachel smiled back, resuming her work until Quinn’s pearly white bra was exposed.  She pushed the shirt back off of Quinn’s shoulders and placed a gentle kiss on the curve of her shoulder, noticing freckle after freckle, wanting to kiss them all.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” She breathed out onto Quinn’s collar bone, where her lips were tracing the sharp line of it straight down to the hollow of her throat. She felt Quinn’s hands high on her back, and realized that her dress’s zipper was being fooled with, and then Quinn was pulling it down and Rachel didn’t even want to think about what it meant that Quinn wanted her undressed and had done it without so much as a raised eyebrow in question.

The cool air hit her back and then Quinn’s hot hands were on the exposed skin with purpose, massaging and pressing for a moment before she was pulling apart either side of Rachel’s dress, coaxing it slowly off of her shoulders.  Rachel shrugged it away, helping as best she could.  Quinn was watching each new inch of exposed skin like it was a stock ticker, her mouth wet and open, the tip of her tongue captured between her teeth.

With one clumsy shimmy of her hips, the dress had fallen to Rachel’s ankles, and she was standing there in her bra and her panties, nipples so painfully hard that she was sure Quinn wouldn’t be able to see anything else.

To Rachel’s utter surprise and delight, Quinn dropped to her knees, helping Rachel step out of the dress completely, taking off her shoes for her. Quinn’s hands gripped her ankle and the muscle of her calf like Rachel was clay and Quinn was sculpting her body.

When her hands began to coast up Rachel’s legs, Quinn’s head and thus her breath somewhere close to the spot below her navel, Rachel started to shake.  Quinn’s hands stopped, and she pressed her cheek tenderly into Rachel’s belly.

“You’re burning up.” Rachel whispered, high and breathy.  Quinn ignored it, pressing her cheek against Rachel’s skin for a moment longer before she moved her head from side to side, her lips brushing against the sensitive spot just above the top of her panties again and again. All Rachel could do was watch, transfixed.  Quinn’s lips were plump and so naturally red and they were touching her skin, not just her mouth but in places that she never could’ve dreamed.

Quinn looked up at her, slightly crazed, her curls utterly undone and her eyes like a cat’s just before striking.  She still moved her lips over the same spot, only now her tongue peeked out, and Rachel had to shut her eyes.

“Oh, God. ”

Rachel grabbed at Quinn’s shoulders, frantic to have her closer, to be kissing her again, to not feel like she was watching something from a place where she couldn’t participate.

Quinn gave the much-attended spot a sweet kiss before standing back up to her full height, kissing Rachel within an inch of her life.  Nothing was spared, no inch of their mouths left un-licked.

Their song was long over, and even all the songs after.  The record had stopped and the room was silent, save the wet sound of their mouths and the shuffle of Quinn’s clothes against Rachel’s body.

There was no reason for that, Rachel thought, reaching around to Quinn’s lower back as the girl’s tongue licked an agonizing circle around Rachel’s.  Quinn moved closer, maybe even on instinct at Rachel’s hand where it was, and Rachel dipped her fingers underneath the waist of her skirt, pulling her tucked in shirt out with it.

She hesitated after it was done, waiting for any protest, but Quinn seemed to kiss her harder, to rare into her like a horse into its bit.

When Rachel got her hand underneath the fabric and onto the bare skin of Quinn’s lower back, Quinn hissed into Rachel’s mouth.  She knew an endorsement when she heard one.  She pushed Quinn back, playfully enough, their mouths tearing apart, and then she was oh-so-quickly peeling that shirt off of the girl’s body, down her arms, over her wrists.  Once it was gone, Quinn having tossed it somewhere dangerously close to Santana’s bed, Rachel went to work on the skirt.

She knew from experience that there was usually a delicate clasp at the top back, but when she went to search for it with her hands, all she could really concentrate on was Quinn’s thumbs brushing against the sides of her breasts as she ran her hands up and down Rachel’s stomach.

There wasn’t much time, she figured, they’d gotten there at almost 2am and all sorts of unfair things happened at sun-up, things that Rachel would rather not think about, so she just took both of her hands on either side of Quinn’s thighs and yanked that skirt down as hard as she could manage.

It barely budged, only an inch or so down her hips.  Quinn laughed into her mouth, shaking her head, wordlessly reaching around and undoing the clasp with one hand.  When she was done, she took Rachel’s hands in her own, bringing them back to the bunched fabric.

“Try again.” She said, and Rachel thought it might have been the sexiest two words in the world.  Rachel didn’t yank this time, just slid.  The skirt dropped to Quinn’s feet and she kicked it away from them like it was as good as trash

Then they were both standing in front of the open ice box, half-naked, tongues in each others’ mouths like there was no other proper way to exist.

“Bed.” Rachel whimpered when Quinn moved from her mouth to lick at her earlobe.  She decided then and there as Quinn’s tongue swirled around the sensitive flesh that she was exactly the type of girl she’d been so afraid to be, even moreso than Quinn, maybe, who seemed wanton but mostly composed in front of Rachel.

She felt like she was falling apart, like she needed Quinn to carry her around in her arms for the rest of her life.

They walked to Quinn’s bed, Rachel forward, pressing and half-skipping her way there.  Quinn spun them around at the last moment, gently laying her on the neatly made linens.

“Have you done this before?” Rachel asked it as soon as her back hit the bed, not because she’d been thinking about it, but because of the way she was being taken care of so well.  Quinn settled between her legs, one hand splayed wide on the curve of her butt, and rocked herself into Rachel before responding.

“What do you mean?” Quinn asked, her voice strained as their chests pressed together.  Rachel felt like she would cry at the feeling of Quinn’s stomach against her own, so much skin, so soft and so in control.

“I – I mean–” Rachel’s voice shook as Quinn bent down and sucked at her neck.  It would leave a mark, and she wanted it to, was silently begging for it to happen.

“You mean have I ever done this with another girl?”

Rachel nodded, her eyes shut tight as Quinn’s lips moved down to the swell of her breast just above the cup of her bra.  She scraped her teeth along the skin, for no reason it seemed other than wanting Rachel underneath those teeth, to know that Rachel wouldn’t jump back, that she would never turn away.

Quinn’s lips left Rachel’s skin and she locked their eyes, the first time since the lake that they’d looked in each others’ eyes so close.  Her thumbs both traced Rachel’s cheekbones as their rib cages surged together with each breath.

“Never.” Quinn said, her eyes dropping, almost shy.  Rachel placed her fingers at the back of Quinn’s neck, fluttering them against the skin.

“You certainly seem like you know what you’re doing.” Rachel smiled, trying to catch Quinn’s eyes again.  Quinn only dipped her head, placing small, light kisses over Rachel’s chest.

“It’s only because I’ve been thinking about doing this for–” Quinn paused her words, her breath hot on Rachel’s left breast before Rachel felt a warm mouth wetting the fabric of her bra over her nipple.

The sound that came out of Rachel’s mouth was somewhere between a shout and a moan.

“For a long time.” Quinn finished, and then she was pulling the flimsy fabric of Rachel’s bra down and there was nothing, not a single thing between Quinn’s slick mouth and Rachel’s painfully hard nipple.  Quinn moaned in the back of her throat as she gently sucked it into her mouth, and the sound vibrated over her skin.

“God, make love to me, Quinn. Please.”

She hadn’t expected it.  When she had formulated a plan that evening, it was only to tell Quinn how she felt, only to get her to understand.   Perhaps it was the liquor still working its way out of her system, but she had never thought in a million years that she would be naked and writhing against Quinn before the night was over.

But, now, underneath the girl that took up every bit of real estate in Rachel’s mind, knowing she wanted it just as much, Rachel could think of nothing more appropriate, nothing so right as letting herself be taken apart by Quinn.

Rachel bent forward and unhooked her bra, pulling it off her shoulders and tossing it aside in the same way Quinn had done her own clothes.  She went for her panties, but Quinn pushed Rachel’s hands aside, wanting to take them down herself.

She kissed each freed bit of skin, even kissed the underside of Rachel’s knee just before the panties were gone completely, and Rachel was left laid bare before her.

Quinn brought a hand to the point of one of Rachel’s hipbones. With her eyes closed, Rachel could hear the deep rasp of Quinn’s labored breath.

“If you want to, put your mouth on me.” Rachel pleaded, saying me , but meaning there .  Quinn scratched down her thigh, hesitating, but then Rachel canted her hips, practically placing herself against Quinn’s mouth, and it became less of a decision.

Two thumbs came and parted her and then Quinn was placing a sloppy open-mouthed kiss between Rachel's legs, her tongue rolling from her soaking entrance up to her clit and then back, like she didn’t know where to begin.

This, Rachel had never experienced before.  She’d had some fumbling fingers, and Finn’s thing had been nice enough when he figured out how to use it properly, but no one had ever had their mouth on her like this.

Rachel felt tears spring to her eyes.  Quinn reached up and squeezed at Rachel’s breast as she hummed into her.  The keening, mewling noises she made had Rachel beside herself, truly hovering outside of her body, too alight to feel everything all at once.

Every time Quinn’s tongue inched closer to her entrance, Rachel felt her heart rumble and seize like a dying engine inside of her chest.

“Just – just go inside, God.” She begged, always begging, but Quinn looked up at her, unsure.  Her eyes were wide and everything from her nose to the bottom of her chin was slick with wetness.

“H-how many, um–”

“Just one.” Rachel said, immediately regretting it as Quinn ran her middle finger through her folds. “Or-or two.  Do two.  Please. ” She squirmed, her back arching up off of the bed.  Quinn looked so pliant, so willing to please her and so fucking pretty.  If she didn’t hide her face again Rachel was worried she would come just from looking at her for too long.

Quinn leaned her head down and licked a slow, agonizing circle around Rachel’s clit as she worked two fingers inside of her.

“Oh, God.” Quinn breathed out when she was two knuckles in and Rachel whined against her own palm.  Whatever had just happened, being inside of Rachel, feeling her, Quinn lost the ease with which she had navigated their coupling before.

“I, I don’t know what I sh–”

“Do what feels good. Do what, um, what you think would feel good.” The word good was cut short as Quinn slowly pulled her fingers out and even more slowly pushed them back in.  She had resituated herself, still between Rachel’s legs, but up on her knees, hovering over everything.  Rachel opened her eyes and clearly saw Quinn watching what she was doing, her head cocking one way, then the other, her lips parted and her eyes half-closed.  Her hips were slowly moving in time with her thrusts.  Rachel nearly growled.

“A little harder.” She urged, but Quinn just grabbed at her hipbone with her free hand, holding Rachel in place as she fucked her slowly, watching it happen like it was a starving man’s last meal.

After a few more languid strokes, Rachel cried out as Quinn pulled her fingers out, glistening and pink, looking at them with a sense of wonder before her lips wrapped themselves around those fingers and sucked.  

She closed her eyes while she was doing it. Rachel dug her fingernails into the flesh of her thigh and tried not to pass out.

“Don’t – don’t do that.” She said, writhing, her hips pressing up to meet anything, Quinn’s elbow would do.  Quinn’s eyes popped open and her fingers dropped.  Both hands came to Rachel’s hips as she licked her lips and looked – guilty, maybe.

“Sorry, I–”

“No, it’s not–” Rachel rammed the back of her head into Quinn’s pillow, her untamed frustration mounting.  She gulped. “It’s not that I don’t like it, but it’s too much, I need–”  Quinn entered her again, slowly, her fingers curling up as she placed lazy kisses along Rachel’s stomach.

Rachel tried to surge her hips forward, but Quinn held her harder.  She brought her forearm to her mouth and bit to keep from screaming.

“You’re driving me c-crazy.” She managed to squeak out when Quinn relented, in a way, by using her thumb to rub slow circles over Rachel’s clit.

After a moment of just listening to Quinn’s breathing, Rachel began to open her mouth, primed with another heartfelt protest, but Quinn squeezed her hip harder.

“I like it.” Quinn said, her voice deep with desire. “I like watching you like this.”

Rachel let her head fall back hard against the pillow again.  Quinn’s fingers worked more deeply inside of her, but no faster.  Her gaze moved from her slippery fingers up to Rachel’s face.  There was a fine sheet of sweat along her hairline.

“If you sit up, I think you can watch, too.”

Rachel pressed the back of her head into the pillow and pondered what exactly was being asked of her.  Quinn wanted Rachel to watch what she was doing to her.  She wanted them both to watch, like it was some kind of one-woman show.

She scrambled to sit up.  Pressing her hands into the mattress, she propped herself up and watched with saucer eyes as Quinn’s fingers worked their way inside of her, each thrust measured and torturous.

“Oh my god, oh my god. ” Rachel placed her hand over Quinn’s, the one on her hipbone, and worked her hips in time.

“Move your thumb.” She instructed, watching Quinn’s long, slender fingers stroke in and out of her so slow, with nothing blocking her full view.  Each time they came out, they were slicker than the last. Rachel thought she would be fine, she thought she could handle it, but then Quinn caught her eye and she bit her lip just as she began a much more appeasing pace, just as she experimentally curled her fingers in such a way, and light exploded behind Rachel’s eyes.

When she came to, truly, she was clutching at Quinn’s back and they were pressed closed together, Quinn’s fingers deep inside of her, still rocking slowly.  She looked into Rachel’s eyes, and seeing that they were no longer clouded and faraway, she began to remove herself.

Rachel held fast.

“No – please, no.” She squeezed at Quinn’s shoulders, pulling a leg over to wrap around her hips.

“Don’t leave.”

There were hot tears on Rachel’s cheeks, further even, down underneath her chin. She didn't know why, not logically, but some things didn't need to be questioned.

“I’m not leaving, Rachel.” Quinn assured, her voice about an octave higher than it had been just before Rachel’s orgasm.  She gently settled herself down against Rachel, hand still inside of her.

“Should I–” She jiggled her wrist, but Rachel reached down and held it in place.

“Don’t go.” Rachel wasn’t crying again, she would’ve been embarrassed had she been, but she could feel the same type of desperation clawing at her throat.  Quinn’s body was so tight against hers that she could feel the slickness of sweat on her skin.  She thought, in that moment, that she would need to have Quinn inside of her for the rest of her life.

Quinn sighed dreamily, resting her head against Rachel’s shoulder.