It began as a fascination, on whose part Pieck was not sure. The tall blonde solider had been magnetic, looking at the warrior as if she were a real person beneath her military use. Far before the world had fallen apart it was easier to indulge in Yelena’s burning eyes, memorize the way Yelena’s fingertips felt against hers as they passed the bottle of cheap sparkling wine between them in a basement Eldian bar.
That first night had turned into a routine, always a charade and dance until Pieck would stand and say she was heading home, for Yelena to follow suit and suggest she walk the other woman home. Pieck never made it back to her apartment, clothes and identity discarded by Yelena’s bedroom door in favor of the idea of being anyone else. Yelena made as much easy, wringing pleasure from Pieck with startling ease, letting the younger woman fall apart against her fingers and mouth.
Now was going to be their last real night together—Pieck was set to be shipped off with Zeke the following evening for a mission over in Paradis, following up on the children they had sent years prior. Because of this sense of finality, both her and Yelena had taken great care of the evening’s proceedings. Yelena had dressed in a full suit, tie and all, and paid for a bottle so beautiful looking Pieck was wary as to its cost. They had spent little time in the dingy bar together before the found themselves back in Yelena’s apartment.
Chapped lips pressed against her temple and blonde hair tickled her face as Pieck heard Yelena’s voice whisper out, “Let me freshen up and then I’ll be with you.”
Pieck watched as Yelena dipped into the small bathroom, admiring the way the black slacks hugged her form and accentuated all that made Pieck’s core heat with longing.
She discarded her own light jacket on the dresser and reached back to loosen the thin straps of her dress until the neckline barely covered her nipples. At this point Pieck knew well exactly what made Yelena’s heart beat quicken and was an expert on how to pull her strings just so.
The water was running in the bathroom, and Pieck knew it would be a bit until she returned. Wandering around the small apartment was familiar, she had spent enough hours there to know her way around. And yet because of this there was one thing that struck her as unusual.
A letter laid unopened but neatly placed on her small kitchen table. The handwriting was innocuous, a near perfect replication of the handwriting she had mimicked as a child in school. It was handwriting that Pieck could recognize easily after years. But what on earth would Zeke Jaeger be writing Yelena about?
Her thumb tore open the letter—she could make an excuse later—at the moment the door form the bathroom opened. Pieck dropped the letter from her hands and turned around, adjusting her dress just further lower.
“You spend that long in the bathroom and you haven’t even taken off any clothes,” Pieck cocked her head to the side and looked Yelena up and down with a purposefully neutral expression, “How unfortunate.”
Yelena strode across the room with a hungry persistence, striding across the small apartment until her hands were placed on the table beside Pieck’s hips, their bodies nearly flush together, “You say that as if you don’t enjoy removing them yourself?”
The blonde’s mouth met her neck with butterfly-light kisses, kisses that made her body turn afire and her mind melt away. She closed her eyes and let herself give into the feeling, forget about what it was she had just saw and just let her hands trace up until they could tear off the other woman’s jacket. “It’s too much effort to get all of these layers off of you.”
“You don’t seem to have any trouble with it,” Yelena’s voice reverberated against her skin as PIeck felt her hands grasping behind her until they found place to rest just above her ass. Yelena’s voice and the sound of her kisses was loud enough that Pieck found herself questioning whether she had indeed heard the rustling of papers behind her.
Before she could think further or even dare to ask the soldier, the straps of her dress were snapped off with a sudden pull to the fabric. Yelena’s hands cupped her breasts, rolling the perk nipples between her fingers with a groan. Pieck was by no means opposed to being fucked against the table like this but it seemed so different from the space Yelena usually liked.
A bite to the earlobe confirmed this. “Lay down on your stomach, Pieck. I have an idea.”
Alarm bells should have gone off at that moment, should have told her this was a bad idea. But a healthy dose of liquor and a deep willingness to let go of the outside world brought the warrior to lay flat against the plain white sheets.
“So beautiful,” Yelena’s voice purred from afar, sending shivers through the younger woman’s body. She knew Yelena found her attractive, of course, but hearing it said aloud was always a certain kind of special.
Pieck stayed in that romantic daydream for just a moment until she felt leather slip underneath her biceps, yanking them back behind her until they were barely a few inches apart. Craning her neck back she could see the dark brown belt that Yelena had worn that evening holding her tight.
Yelena yanked at the belt, drawing out a surprised gasp from Pieck’s lips. It hurt but not so much that she felt any real pain, just enough to startle her system. Fingertips trailed down her spine until they reached the zipper of her dress. In moments, Pieck was laid almost entirely bare and tied, the only remaining piece of clothing a thin bit of lace that was already soaked through from the evening’s flirtations.
Somehow, she had expected that to be kind, expected Yelena’s mouth to meet her cunt and slowly massage out of her enough orgasms to last her through the weeks she would be gone. But she was imaging the Yelena she had dreamed up in her mind, not the reality of the woman behind her who held the reigns.
Pieck was roughly turned over onto her back, thudding back down onto the mattress with a huff. And Yelena looked nothing short of furious. Her eyes never left Pieck’s as her hands began to wander, fingertips pressing in against every part of her collarbone with more intensity than normal, “Snooping were we?”
“Well,” Pieck sucked in a breath, knowing now that her earlier suspicions were dangerously accurate. She blasted on a placidly calm expression and continued, “I didn’t get a chance to really read anything, so perhaps you could indulge me with a dramatic reading?”
“Funny,” Yelena’s voice took on a dark and serious tone as her hands drifted just a bit lower, pinching her nipples that were already hard against the cold apartment air.
Pieck shuddered at the feeling touch, but mostly found herself drawn to the look that Yelena was giving her. It was the an icy fury, and yet the familiar cloud of lust was still there. It made Pieck’s legs come to wrap around the older woman’s hips, desperate to see that expression closer.
Tilting her head back against the pillow, Pieck sighed out, “Can’t say I’ve been told that before, how sweet of you.”
Her nails raked down Pieck’s ribcage, at first light enough that she shivers, but when Yelena brought it down again, it became sharper. It was only enough to leave a mark, but still. Pieck gasped at the sensation, her legs tightening their hold against Yelena’s hips.
“I could kill you,” Yelena’s voice was almost gleeful as the words were whispered. It sent chills through Pieck’s body, knowing she was at the mercy of someone who by all accounts should be far less powerful. And yet here Yelena was, her nails drawing blood, her belt rubbing at Pieck’s arms. Perhaps that was why Yelena’s usually stoic face was splotched with red.
“You won’t,” Pieck breathed out, enjoying the way Yelena’s eyes narrowed at that. She liked the way Yelena’s thumb gripped her chin tightly, a certain degree of possessiveness made clear.
“What makes you so certain of that?” Her hand drifted lower, putting briefly intense pressure against Pieck’s throat until it came to rest at the valley of her chest. Yelena pushed down a bit, enough that any words hanging off the warrior’s lips were lost.
A moment later she found her voice again as Yelena released her pressure, “Because as much as you claim to have a moral backbone the truth of the matter is that you are a selfish bitch, and ” Against better judgement, Pieck let herself smile, “And tonight I’m what you want to consume.”
Yelena bit down hard, until Pieck could feel the skin on her collarbone break open. It was pain, yes, but it made Pieck burn even more with pure need. While Yelena continued her assault across Pieck’s thin skin, the younger woman arched her back up, trying desperately to drive her hips up to meet some kind of friction, anything to relieve herself.
Fingers were there now, barely ghosting over the wetness of her panties and Pieck whimpered. Seemingly satisfied, Yelena pulled away with her face still contorted in cold anger as she looked down at her work. She seemed almost to admire the deep bite marks, and somehow Pieck wanted to push her farther, try and draw out more drips of anger. Sparks covered her fresh wounds until she was healed again.
Instead of the expected frustration she hoped to see cross Yelena’s face, intrigue did instead. The nails that had drawn lines down her sides before dug into the flesh of her hip. Pieck swore and gritted her teeth, her mind swimming with the mix of pain and pleasure coursing through her.
Unfortunately Yelena saw right through it, “And you’re rather enjoying this, aren’t you?” Before Pieck could respond, Yelena’s free hand slipped easily under her final bit of clothing, fingers grazing against the wetness there, humming, “Mm, yes you are.”
Pieck hoped if she spoke out again, the soft edge to her tone, that Yelena’s nails would dig deeper, her teeth would bite harder. Thankfully she didn’t have to as Yelena did just while that letting her hand that had been whispering gentle caresses balloon thrust in. Her hips knocked upwards against the extreme sensations flooding her body. As Yelena’s thumb began circling her clit, Pieck couldn’t help but wonder why they had not tried this before. It all felt too much at once, and yet Pieck was addicted.
As Yelena continued to stroke at her insides, she would let her teeth and nails leave Pieck’s skin for just enough time for the warrior to repair herself. Each time she did so, Yelena’s brutality increased as did the pressure thrumming in Pieck’s stomach. When she finally came over Yelena’s calloused and long fingers, it was with a barely muffled scream.
With lidded eyes, Pieck watched as Yelena wiped the fluid against her bedsheet and turned back towards the desk. For an almost agonizingly long time, Pieck watched Yelena read the letter she had torn open, not even a hint on her face as to its contents.
Finally, as Pieck’s heart rate was settled again, Yelena came back to her with a wicked grin, “Did you really think you were done?”