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Rumi
It was only a week. They could handle a week, right? Things came up all the time they had to do alone and it wasn’t like they spent every second together - that would be impractical, nevermind impossible. But even still, when Mira had been called to a launch event in Japan for her fashion label it had been difficult to say goodbye. One week and it felt like a lifetime. Which was stupid, Rumi knew it was stupid, but seeing her at the airport with her bag and waving goodbye felt like someone was stealing away part of her soul. When they’d returned the penthouse had felt so empty without her presence, her steady warmth, the smoky-sweet smell of her perfume. Rumi couldn't even bring herself to be embarrassed that she'd asked for one of her pillows before she left. (Mira had passed it over with a smirk that betrayed just how flattered she had been.)
Zoey missed her too. And in a way that made her an absolute menace. The scant time they had at home she bounced around from one thing to another, half finished cups of tea beside scribbled in notebooks beside a plate of old kimbap that had been there for two days. Pestering Rumi for a cuddle or a movie only to get up after five minutes and do something else entirely. Unable to sit still or focus; a manic tint to her Mira could always soothe and Rumi was still getting the hang of because nine times out of ten it involved tricking her into bed and fucking her brains out.
Zoey could always focus in bed and was never short of ideas either. As soon as she'd floated the notion, fake-casual, while they were all eating dinner one night weeks back of using a few toys Rumi had known she was done for. Eyes bright and shining, squirming in her seat, Zoey hadn’t gone into detail but had furiously started ordering something on her phone. Mira hadn’t even blinked at the suggestion which made it feel like a strategic attack; one Rumi had absolutely no problem fielding - she did have lost time to make up.
Until all of a sudden Mira was gone and Rumi was the focus of all that pent up energy. And, apparently, the bag of implements that had appeared in Zoey's room as big as a rucksack. Closest thing Rumi had to it was the small container her collar had come in and a tiny vibrator she'd ordered herself years ago on a whim and used a handful of times. Zoey's was huge. Anytime she'd tried to peek inside she'd been caught, as if Zoey had sensors hidden somewhere and knew every time she sneaked down the hall to her room to look which, honestly, wouldn’t have been the most surprising thing in the world. Packages arrived that she wouldn't open and it just made Rumi's curiosity burn hotter. Not that she'd let Zoey know that, feigning that she didn't care, pretending it didn't send her mad not to know every single detail about what was in their home.
*
“Zoey.” What came out of Rumi’s mouth was half-plea, half-demand. “Someone’s going to walk in.”
Zoey didn’t stop her fingers as they glided over Rumi’s clit, her underwear shoved unceremoniously to one side, tight against her under her black leather trousers. Rumi pressed her forehead into her shoulder, slumped over on weak knees. She was right, someone was probably going to walk in, and Rumi was dripping at the very thought. A fact which Zoey had taken great delight in exploiting since the moment she’d discovered it. They were due in front of the cameras in five minutes; a stupid dumb dancing thing she couldn't even remember the steps to at that moment if there was a gun to her head. But there was cutting it close then there was cutting it close.
“We shouldn’t -”
Zoey curled her fingers deliciously and cut the sentence clean in half. Then pulled out sharply, wiping her fingers carefully on a tissue and tugging Rumi’s costume straight. “You’re right, princess. We shouldn’t.”
“Wait, I can’t go out like this.”
“Why? You look great.” Zoey smiled, all wide eyes and innocence.
“Fuck you.”
Rumi pulled up her zipper and checked her make up in the mirror. Smudged. She touched up as Zoey smoothed down her outfit - it was gorgeous; an asymmetrical white dress with a cutout at the midriff that showed off her figure, delicate and subtle patterns snaked across it in mandalas. It was supposed to be a direct contrast to Rumi’s leather jacket and trousers. Something about opposites? She couldn’t remember because she was staring at her lips - the taste of her. Just as one of the stagehands walked in she wiped the last of Zoey’s gloss from her lip.
“Ready?” The man was young, slightly harried, clipboard and an earpiece. Could he tell what they'd been doing? Could he give them ten more minutes?
“Of course!” Zoey said, bright and shining, throwing the tissue into the bin and taking her hand. “Let's go.”
Rumi had gotten through it once. Somehow. Even Bobby had noticed she'd been distracted in the first five minutes - asking her if she needed anything half a dozen times. She accepted the bottle of water and handwaved about missing Mira; which, technically, wasn’t a lie and he seemed to accept it. Zoey was off to the other side, chatting to one of the cameramen affably - hand on his arm and giggling. Not even caring that she’d not finished what she’d so cruelly started, that Rumi was busy dying and trying to use water to solve a problem that would only be solved when she was trailed away and fucked in two. But then Zoey glanced over to her and winked. So brazen. Always pushing the limits, always just on the knife’s edge of going through them. Rumi took a breath and pulled out her phone. Mira needed to know what their menace had been up to. And what she was going to do about it.
The dance was one of Mira's own - just for the two of them - and they'd been going through it together easily enough for the last few weeks under her direction. A simple little thing really but for some strange reason it was hard to keep her mind on the steps and not Zoey’s ass as she went through it the first time. Not anymore. Rumi had a plan: revenge. When they stepped back onto their marks she made sure to flash Zoey a winning smile, tossing her braid over her shoulder and taking charge of the stage like she was born to.
When the music started up Rumi made sure to hit every mark, because of course, but throw in just enough extra so that Zoey would notice. Swinging her hips just a little lower, brushing her hand just a little too long on the cutout at Zoey’s waist, lidding her eyes the way that she liked. It wasn’t just Zoey who knew how to get under someone’s skin. It wasn’t enough to be admonished - it wasn’t even enough for anyone to notice, not really, she didn’t think. Mira would be pleased with her additions. On the second go through it she caught Zoey’s teeth on her lip during the transition. On the fourth she was staring with open hunger. It ended with a pose - Zoey leaning on her from behind, arm slung around her shoulder while Rumi half-crouched and their hips were pressed together (Mira had absolutely done it on purpose). Rumi made sure to hold the pose just a beat too long, pressed her ass against Zoey a little harder than strictly necessary. The fifth time Zoey whispered in Rumi's ear. Her voice was low and warm against her neck.
“Fuck you, princess.”
The cameras were right there. Filming. If anyone noticed no one said anything. It was the take they ended up using. Great chemistry, apparently.
Into the car and the moment the door slammed behind her Rumi knew she'd done it; Zoey's eyes were dark, smiling, something sharp about it among the bubbles and sugar.
“That was insane Rumi, you’re actually an insane person, I swear to god I was blushing in half of those shots.”
Rumi glanced at the partition separating them from the driver. Sure it dulled the sounds but it wasn't exactly soundproof. Or opaque. Not that it had ever stopped Zoey in the past - she was on first name basis with all of their usual drivers and used that to her advantage.
“I don't know what you mean.” It was something to be proud of to wind Zoey up. Nothing got under her skin like Rumi could.
“All you have to do is ask, princess.”
“I was just dancing. Was something bothering you?.” She replied with a sickly sweet smile, voice dipped in honey. Rumi checked her phone. Mira. Wanting photos. “Mira wants a selfie.”
She held up her phone and snapped a quick one before Zoey could rearrange her face.
It pinged back immediately.
Not those kinds of pictures.
And then:
Oh, you're in for it.
The air became thick as Zoey leaned into her, hand on her thigh, breath close to her neck. Her lemon-salt perfume was like standing by the sea. Rumi grinned, glad her patterns were hidden under clothes and make up because they were heating up. Got her. The car wound through the streets, good thing there was no traffic, if the driver was listening in they were being very discreet.
“Look at me.” Zoey said, “I need you to see what you’ve done.”
Despite herself Rumi’s eyes flicked from her phone screen and up to Zoey. Fuck, she was beautiful - pink cheeks and big shining eyes.
Zoey continued. “You remember the last time you tried to show off? When you forgot who you belonged to?”
“Hmmmm.” Rumi checked her phone again for something to do with her hands. Mira again - a picture in a mirror all long lines of skin showing. No repreve there. “I don’t think I do.”
Her body remembered, warming at the thought. Zoey pressed her mouth against her neck, pulling her jacket aside and peeking in at her patterns.
They’d all been at dinner, some celebration of something that meant they had to be dressed up. Rumi had spent half the afternoon before winding both of them into a frenzy - long lingering touches, a heavy kiss with no follow up, Mira gasping with Rumi’s lips against her neck as she lent over her on the couch. Just as Zoey was about to break and drag her to bed Rumi announced she was spending the other half of the afternoon getting ready and left to see her stylist. She’d met them at the restaurant, knowing exactly what would happen if she was alone with either for even five minutes. Especially because her dress showed enough skin to be almost indecent, fully backless, a long slit all the way up her thigh, shimmering iridescent silver to match her patterns. Both had squirmed through the evening as Rumi preened on their increasing frustration and flirted with the waitstaff. She’d paid dearly for that little stunt: they hadn’t even waited to get her into bed - fucking her in the bathroom of the club they’d ended up in after, knees on tile, back pressed against the mirror, fingers in her mouth to stop any noise. By the time they’d got her home and finished with her Rumi’s voice had stayed broken and hoarse for hours and the marks they left took a week to fade.
“Funny how they're golden.” Zoey used the voice. Low, sultry, absolutely focused. Exactly where Rumi wanted her. “But if you need a reminder -”
Two fingers between her thighs and Rumi did her absolute best not to squirm into them. She wouldn't win that easily.
“There's no way we could make that work with just us.”
“You think so?” Zoey pressed harder. “I have plenty of rope.”
Rumi's breath caught in her throat. There were ideas then there were ideas - Zoey was full of them. Her hips rolled against Zoey's fingers without permission and she stopped them immediately.
Rumi's phone pinged in her hand and it could only be one person. More skin this time. Mira's teeth on her bottom lip. A caption that was more of a threat than a tease.
Zoey will send me pictures if you won't. Or can’t.
Was it planned? It felt planned.
Rumi strengthened her resolve despite wanting it, badly. But Zoey loved the game and she'd play it out as long as possible. Anything to make her happy. She turned her phone, showing Zoey the picture, pleased, secretly, that Zoey wasn’t the only one being driven wild. A thousand miles away and Mira was still thinking of them. The smile she got was enough to crack her resolve a little more. It was gorgeous - glowing, nothing but delight. So Zoey. It was enough to make her melt at any time but in the back of their car, her fingers pressed up against her, with the whole evening in front of them? She had no chance.
Zoey leaned back suddenly, stretched long and lazy. “But if you’re not in the mood I’m sure I can amuse myself some other way.”
Rumi was going to pay for that too.
She couldn’t wait.
The car pulled up outside their building and the doors were opened for them by the driver. Who didn’t even look bothered as Rumi rearranged herself for the second time that day, very aware that she was blushing and Zoey’s gloss was bright pink. Without a mirror to check she couldn’t be sure she’d gotten it all. Whoever they were they were getting one hell of a tip. Zoey slipped out the other side and her pinkie linked into hers as they made their way to the elevator that would take them home. There were, thankfully, no photographers. Rumi put her phone into her back pocket while Zoey frantically typed something on hers - she had an idea who to. Whatever it was, it wasn't in the group chat. The picture of her and Zoey was still in the last message - Rumi posing with the peace sign and Zoey over her shoulder grinning like a shark about to devour.
Rumi pressed the button for their floor and Zoey slid her arms around her waist from behind. Gentle. Grounding. Rumi let herself relax for just a moment as Zoey’s forehead rested on the nape of her neck; despite how much fun it was it had been a long day.
Wrong move.
Teeth at her ear, breath hot and heavy, Zoey’s voice full of delight and energy and delicious mischief. “Are you going to be good for me tonight?”
Rumi couldn’t control herself. She didn't know where it came from but when Mira wasn't there and Zoey took charge it was a lot harder to do as she was told. Zoey’s approach to everything came across as a request instead of a demand. It made her want to defy her just to see how hard she’d push. It made her want to know if she could break her using only fluttering eyelashes and faked naivety. Now that would be a win she could hold over her for weeks.
“That depends.”
“On what?” Zoey’s hands had descended to her hips and rested against the leather, which left very little to the imagination it was so tight against her skin.
“The reward.”
“I don’t think you’re in a position to make demands. Look at you - you’re grinding against me already.”
Rumi stopped immediately despite the, very persuasive, hands trying to get her to continue and Zoey’s warm body pressed right up against her. Fuck - she had to focus. If Rumi was going to keep Zoey on the hook then she was going to have to focus.
“I can take care of you, if you’ll let me.” Zoey continued. “I’ve got toys that will make you very happy.”
Rumi understood the game. She understood what was actually being asked, she wasn’t stupid. If she stopped the pretense for a moment - stopped playing for a heartbeat, then it would end with no malice. She’d probably get a foot rub and dinner made for her. But if she kept going? That would be so much better. Plus, she was absolutely dying to see what Zoey would come up with.
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
The chime again and the doors opened, far too soon. They stepped inside and the moment the doors shut Zoey spoke. In that low voice that brokered no negotiation.
“Meet me in Mira’s room.”
Rumi cocked an eyebrow, somehow it came off exactly how she meant it by what she could see in the mirror. Amused. Faintly bored. How, she had no idea because she felt exactly the opposite.
“Without her? Really?”
“Oh, she’s here.” Zoey held up her phone. Then, grinning, “You sent her the wrong kind of pictures. Oops.”
“I need a shower.” Rumi said more firmly that she felt. Her heart was skipping - if she played too hard to get Zoey was likely to back off and leave her empty and wanting all night. If she gave in too easily then the game was lost. It was a delicate balance and one she’d fucked up before.
“You’ve got twenty minutes.” Zoey said as she stepped out, half-skipping into the flat, heading straight towards her bedroom. “Don’t make me wait.”
Twenty five minutes later Rumi stepped out of the bathroom. She’d been far too distracted to do much more than wash the studio sweat and make up off; the thick foundation they made her wear hid her patterns and she hated it. With only a towel wrapped around her she stepped out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam.
The flat was eerily quiet. Usually Zoey had music going or a tv programme on - often in contrast to Mira’s in the kitchen, the sounds of both of them chatting or the bang of pans or anything. Instead it was like it was empty. She padded down the hall to Mira’s room. The door was tight shut the way it had been since Mira left. She hesitated, took a breath, composed herself. She knew she was late, that was the point, the last five minutes she’d spent standing in the bathroom just counting down to make sure. Zoey wouldn’t win without a fight.
“You look so good.” Zoey’s voice. Not to her, from inside the room.
The tinny response told her she was calling someone but she couldn’t make out the words.
“I know. You should have seen her today, like something else - the way she was moving, it was crazy.”
Rumi smiled. It wasn't just Zoey who enjoyed it.
“In front of everyone. In front of cameras.”
The towel shifted around her. Silly to even put it on.
“Oh, of course she is. But you were so right.”
Right about what? She resisted the urge to press her ear against the door. Though she was basically doing that anyway.
“I’m definitely about to do something stupid. Love you.”
Rumi opened the door. The smell of Mira’s room hit her first; something smoky and spiced. Her things were still laying where she’d left them, make-up on the dressing table, a half finished sewing project over the back of a chair, pictures tacked messily to a pinboard. Zoey’s gaze snapped from her phone.
“You took your time.”
Rumi lingered in the doorway. Enjoyed Zoey’s eyes roaming all over her - everything she could see not covered by the towel. She didn’t need to look to know that her patterns were giving her away, shimmering. But wasn’t that half the fun?
“I lost track.”
A lie. She’d been watching the clock since they’d stepped out of the elevator. Rumi caught sight of a bag that wasn’t Mira’s sitting by the bed in plain sight of the door - her collar sitting on top which meant Zoey had also been through her underwear drawer. Again. Zoey’s gaze lingered: light, playful. Such a contrast to Mira. When she looked at her like that it was as if an anvil was dropped on her chest.
“Did you?” Zoey said. Her watchful gaze didn’t falter - but Rumi did. She saw everything, noticed everything, there was no hiding under it. “Come here.”
She patted the bed beside her. Rumi sat on the edge, the towel biting in below her arms. Zoey moved so she was cross-legged behind her and there were fingers in her hair. Undoing her braid. She closed her eyes against it because she loved it, absolutely loved it, when her girls played with her hair. Hand over hand Zoey undid the entire thing and stroked the hair that came out, brushing with her fingers. That was Mira’s job. Mira usually did that.
“That’s nice.” Rumi said.
“Why do you wear it so tight all the time?” She could feel Zoey’s smile as her fingers raked along her scalp and she leant back; hoping it was the right move, hoping she wouldn’t stop.
“It’s just how I’ve always done it.”
It was pulled it back into a loose bun at the base of her neck. Zoey planted a kiss on her shoulder and she felt her patterns prickle with heat.
“You’re all wound up, princess.” Her voice low in Rumi’s ear. “Let me look after you.”
“I’m fine.” Rumi replied, sighing against Zoey’s lips on her neck. Mira took her voice away - Zoey didn’t let her stop talking. She had talked Rumi into spreading her legs more than once.
Two fingers at her jaw controlled the way her head could move. Tilting, manoeuvring, so Zoey could get what she wanted. Rumi’s traitor body leant into it - putty in her hands.
“You must be dripping after that performance earlier.” Zoey said into her neck, her focus absolute, the soft words with steel hidden under them. “So many people watching you dance like that?”
Rumi wanted to argue, wanted to snap something witty and smart back. But Zoey’s gentleness was reeling her in and she was the fish on the hook. Fuck, it was so much harder to resist gentleness. Zoey’s hands were on the towel, slipping it off and throwing it away. She was still in her costume. The piece of bare stomach pressed against Rumi’s back enticingly, warm and solid.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh yeah?” Zoey tilted her chin up with one possessive hand at her throat, whispering in her ear. “So you don’t need me to touch you right now?”
“No.” Rumi said, shrugging a little. The heat between her legs was almost unbearable. Almost. She could hold out a bit longer.
“Good.” Teeth at her ear. “Because I’m not going to.” Zoey reached over, her breasts pressing against Rumi in a way that made everything flare gold, and pulled the bag up and onto the bed. But she didn’t open it and took the collar instead. Rumi’s patterns switched to an oil slick in the sun - pulsing in time with the pulsing in her lower belly.
“I think you need to be reminded who you belong to.”
The collar hung from one of Zoey’s fingers. A promise. A threat. But there was none of the heavy weight of control with her just honey sweet softness. Rumi felt herself melting; warm liquid in her chest. Her chin tilted up automatically to have it put on.
“Oh no.” Zoey fake laughed. Still a warm, tinkling, thing. “This says princess, not brat. You’re going to have to earn it.”
“How am I going to beg if you don’t touch me?” Rumi said, pleased with how smooth it came out.Zoey’s lips were on hers in an instant - possessive and firm. The first unravelling was always the sweetest and Rumi felt herself being unspooled. Something stupid? Zoey’s ideas always were.
“You want me to make you beg?”
She didn’t wait for an answer but pushed Rumi back and climbed on top like it was her right. Like the space belonged to her. Rumi found her heartbeat pulsing in her ears as Zoey's breathing changed, heavier. The pillows smelled like Mira.
“Smile.” She snapped a picture on her phone. Rumi knew who that was going to. A flare of gold up Zoey's body.
It was tossed aside with no ceremony as Zoey leaned over and rummaged inside the bag. Shit, that was within reach. She pulled out two things, one they’d used before, and one they hadn’t; a blindfold, and a rope. She cracked the rope between her hands - her eyes not leaving Rumi’s, watching, she knew, for any hesitation, any falter.
Rumi’s clit continued to pulse in time with her patterns. Which had just gotten a hell of a lot brighter. She was actually going to do it? She was actually going to tie her down?
“I’m going to take such good care of you.”
Rumi nodded, resolve crumbling. The idea was far too enticing and Zoey far too scintillating to do anything else.
“Good girl.” Zoey purred in her ear as she lent forward again, pulling the blindfold over Rumi’s head without warning and everything was black. The rope was dropped on the bed beside her leg - no doubt it’d be used soon.
Without sight she was freer somehow. Permitted to relax. And the trust she had to give them when they used it? It made her heart ache and her cunt drip. Rumi felt herself slipping a little deeper, a little further into that warm pool where she didn’t have to restrict herself, where she wasn’t in charge of anything. She could only rely on hearing to guess what Zoey was going to do next. More rummaging in the box, the lid clattering to the floor. If she could just see, just for a second, then she’d be ready. She could steel herself.
“You’re not going to ruin the surprise, are you?” Zoey said. She could hear the pout. And the very last thing she wanted to do was disappoint Zoey. Rumi’s hand dropped back to her waist. “Good. Now-”
A hand on her wrist, a guiding touch disguised as a playful one, pulling her hand upwards towards Zoey’s chest. Rumi squeezed gently. Far more gently than Zoey liked because why not be a shit while she still could be? She wouldn’t be able to see her naked and that was a tragedy that had to be made up for. Her patterns prickled. Rumi ran her other one up Zoey’s back - to where the zip of her dress was. If she couldn’t see then she could at least feel right? She wasn’t stopped. The zip moved smoothly under her fingertips and Zoey wiggled and suddenly there was skin under her hands.
She wasn’t wearing underwear.
Zoey had the audacity to lecture her about dancing when she’d gone the whole day without wearing fucking underwear? Absolute goddamn menace. Rumi sat up into her, taking a nipple into her mouth - feeling it stiffen under her tongue to a stiff peak. There had been so many opportunities where she had been denied that day she wasn’t going to waste the one in front of her. A low dark chuckle that sharpened to a gasp when Rumi bit down.
Rumi ran her hands ran over the curves of Zoey’s body and felt the goosebumps under the pads of her fingers, the slick all the way down her thighs. She made that happen, she made her that wet. Rumi slipped one finger into her and enjoyed Zoey’s breathing changing. It only made everything hotter that she couldn’t see; it always did, but she could imagine Zoey’s eyes lidding, the way she bit her tongue at the tip, the hollow in the base of her throat that dipped when her breathing sped up.
“That’s it. Another finger.”
Rumi took her time, she could still make Zoey work for it. A small, impatient, huff told her it was working.
“Don’t think I won’t tie you down and take what I want.”
“How does that even work?” Rumi felt the words leave before thinking. Zoey’s lips brushed against her ear where she was still sat up against her.
“Let me show you.”
Then two hands were on her wrists and they were pinned above her head as Zoey pushed her deep into Mira’s mattress. The rope disappeared from her leg and Zoey pressed it into her palms, around her wrists. Of course they enjoyed pinning her - one of Mira’s favourite games was to see how many orgasms she could wring out of her while Zoey held her down - but they’d never used ropes before. Rumi was glad her face was mostly covered by the blindfold because she was sure she was blushing hard. Her patterns prickled with heat which meant they’d be lit up.
Rumi’s breath caught in her throat and Zoey's hands loosened immediately.
“Talk to me, princess.”
“You've not won yet.”
“Rumi.” Zoey said. Still firm but more normal.
Oh. Pause button. Shit, she was playing too hard to get they couldn't stop now. They absolutely couldn't stop now there was no way she could extinguish the fire between her thighs alone.
“Keep going, this is hot as fuck.”
“Good.” Lips on hers as the ropes tightened around her wrists and Zoey began to lash them together. “Do you know why I chose Mira’s bed?”
“Why?”
“Easier to tie you to.”
“So sure I’d say yes?”
“I always know what you need.”
Saved it. Rumi’s wrists were tied tight. She pulled against the restraint and it didn’t move, not even a little. There was something delicious in it; something gorgeous and freeing about, quite literally, not being given a choice - there was absolutely no way she could fuck it up. All she needed was a gag. Rumi wanted to throw herself into the warm pool of not thinking and not look back. It was Zoey. She could trust Zoey. She sank just a little deeper because if she thought about it hard enough she could imagine the ropes were Mira's long fingers.There was the telltale shutter click of a camera and she felt the blush and the prickle of her patterns creeping up her neck. Fuck. Mira would be getting them while she sat at some dinner table or at some cocktail party - maybe sneaking off to look, maybe alone in her hotel room still, just waiting for the next picture to come through while she touched herse-
Rumi groaned as it clicked again. She hadn’t meant to it just came out. Fuck, why had she been such a shit there was no way in hell Zoey was going to touch her. There was no way Zoey was going to break first when Rumi was already dragged down, pulled in, pinned and helpless under her control. Exactly where she’d wanted to be the entire day but that wasn't the point. Two more camera clicks. One from directly between her legs where Zoey had pulled them open to get the shot. Zoey paused for a moment and Rumi knew she was deciding which ones to send, which ones were the best.
“All of them.” Rumi said. “Send her all of them.”
“I already have.” Light laugh. “I’m waiting on a reply. Can you imagine what this is doing to her?”
All Rumi could do was imagine. Mira, frustrated and horny, being forced to keep it together while she burned low and hot was Rumi’s absolute favourite way to see her. Flickering and restless as a candleflame, knee bouncing under the table, nails digging into her thigh, expression as clear and composed as always. It would keep smouldering for the rest of the week until she got home and then they’d both be at the mercy of that particular fire. A swoosh of a message received and Zoey laughed again, high and tinkling. Infuriating.
“She just gave me a wonderful idea.”
Zoey disappeared and Rumi bit her lip, hard. Pulled against her wrists. Swallowed another groan as Zoey pulled something else out of the bag. Because if Mira was sending ideas then she was practically here in the room with them.
Something cold and silicone touched against her hands where they were tied, brushed along her fingers with something hanging from it. Just long enough for her to get her fingers around it. Rumi’s breath caught again. For her?
“A dildo?” She said. Even saying that out loud was embarrassing. What the fuck had Zoey been ordering?
“Close. My strap.”
Rumi felt herself get, somehow, wetter. She knew Zoey had one. Mira did too. But they’d only ever talked about using them. She’d always hoped they hadn’t assumed she wasn’t interested and had made herself very clear during those conversations. What would Zoey look like wearing it? She shivered at the idea. She wanted, no needed, to see that.
“Lift your hips.”
Wait. What?
She did as she was told and the cold plastic replaced the heat from Zoey almost immediately. The straps criss crossed around her ass and a click told her it was in place. A firm tug let her know it was definitely in place. It pressed right up against her clit in a very distracting way.
“You thought I’d be wearing it?” Zoey said into her ear, breath tickling. “That counts as touching.”
Rumi wanted to feel it in her hand properly. She wanted to know how big it was. She pulled against the rope and Zoey laughed.
“Be a good little toy and stop struggling.”
Rumi felt it all the way down her spine. A good little toy: that’s what she was for, that’s what she was good at - to be useful, to be used. Just a filthy, perfect, thing. She stopped pulling against the rope and received a kiss on the neck warm and wet and wanting. Zoey’s thighs on either side of hers, hands on her chest - pulling at her nipple like an afterthought and making her gasp. Rumi felt the dildo press against her stomach between them. What would it feel like? Zoey's hand brushed against her belly and left sparks in its wake as she lifted it up, pressing hard against Rumi's clit as she did it. She swallowed her breath to hear Zoey better. The smallest groan as her thighs lifted and sank down, the smallest twitch, a sigh like Rumi wasn't the only one who had been wanting all day. Zoey's hips met hers and it was enough to make her heart beat fast enough to burst out of her chest, the fire inside of her building to heat that was going to burn her from the inside out because she couldn’t move. She couldn’t do anything. Zoey was going to take what she wanted and there was no way to stop her and wasn’t that delicious?
And Zoey began to rock. Slow. Teasing. Her hands on either side of Rumi’s head she kissed her and it was gorgeous. So much need, fire reflected. It made the dildo press against her infuriatingly - enough as a distraction only, no release. Rumi bucked up her hips in frustration and swallowed the catch of breath that came with it. Oh? She planted her feet on the mattress and drove her hips up again and the answering moan was all she needed - all resolve, all pettiness, firmly gone. There was nothing but making Zoey make that noise again and again and again.
“Oh fuck, princess.” Like she hadn't been ready, like she hadn't expected it, breathless already. “Just like that. Just like that.”
The breathing in her ear was becoming ragged. Rumi so desperately wanted to touch, to feel her, to see her. But if this is all she had then she would do the best she could.
“You’re fucking me so well.” Zoey said. Rumi felt her patterns burning under the praise. The pressure on her clit was so deeply annoying. She needed Zoey. She needed her so badly it hurt. “Don't you dare stop.”
No chance of that. Rumi did everything she could. Zoey’s, fingers tightened in her hair as she collapsed down with her mouth against Rumi’s neck and breathless little gasps when Rumi didn't slow. She had been told not to stop and it wasn't as if Zoey weighed her down at all. Moans like music - sending shockwaves through her stomach straight to her clit. Zoey lay up against her entirely - body fitting against hers, moving with hers, like it always did, heart beat ringing against Rumi's chest. Closer. She could cry with frustration that she couldn’t put her arms around her and get closer. Zoey left a sloppy kiss on her collarbone, then her neck, then just below her ear, hair brushing against her and lips warm and inviting as her breath came in short sharp gasps.
Her thighs tightened. The fingers in Rumi’s hair pulled hard as Zoey’s body became taught, froze, then melted in a long loose groan that was delicious enough to swallow. Rumi hadn’t been told to stop.
“Easy tiger. Give me a sec, that was insane.”
Rumi whined as she stilled her hips. No. More, now. Something. She knew if she spoke her voice would give her away. Had she done it? Had she done well enough? Zoey slid the dildo out of her and lay down beside her, body warm as she traced some of the patterns. Camera click click click. She really wanted to see those pictures.
“You’ve earned being touched at least. Can’t resist.”
Rumi bit her lip against the second whine threatening to escape from her throat. They’d spend the entire day teasing each other and the very thought of having to wait much longer was going to burn her alive. Let her touch.
“Are you ready to beg yet?”
“Zoey.” A flash to earlier. She could have just begged then. She should have.
“No? That’s okay, we’ve got all the time in the world.”
Zoey's fingers traced her patterns. The strap was unbuckled and thrown to the floor with a thud. Lower, towards her hips, then back up again - everywhere but where she needed. Feather-light. Circling one of her nipples and Rumi felt it stiffen - like her body was reaching for the thing she just had to ask for, to demand. But that’s not how it worked - she didn’t get to pick when and where and how. If Mira were here she'd have Rumi on her knees watching as she ate Zoey out, insisting she keep silent and unmoving until they were finished. She pulled against the ropes hard enough to make the bedframe creak as Zoey’s fingers continued their endless journey against her skin. Smooth and slow and gentle - each time dipping just a little lower. Unhurried. She bit the inside of her cheek when Zoey brushed against her hipbone. She would be a good little toy.
“I could do this all night.”
Rumi’s retort dissolved. Free her. Let her see. Let her touch. The fire in her stomach built until she could feel it reflected in the patterns across her skin - unrelenting heat that Zoey had to be able to feel. It was torture - plain and simple. And all she had to do was beg.
“You’re adorable, you know that?” She’d gone off the patterns now. Tracing a picture into Rumi’s thigh with her breath low and heavy at her neck. “I just want everyone who saw you today to know you’re mine.”
Her teeth grazed Rumi’s neck. Do it. Mark her. Make everyone wonder just how she’d gotten a hickey, a bruise, leave a ring of teeth so obvious it couldn’t be hidden. But Zoey didn’t. Just moved up to Rumi’s sternum between her breasts and placed a palm on it near where her heart was. Grounding. Soothing in a way she’d never even considered it could be.
“Is this mine too?”
“Yes. Yes, of course it is.”
“Then let me in.”
Rumi lifted her hips, wiggled against her bindings, and fought. Because she was disintegrating in the sweetness quicker than in any punishment. Zoey was like a river cutting through sandstone and Rumi didn’t want to want it so much but just being touched, being listened to, being seen, felt so gorgeously vulnerable. No escape. No running. The only way was through and the heat in her was going to kill her if she held out much longer. Zoey’s palm pressed a little harder as her other hand turned Rumi’s head and kissed her so gentle and soft something broke in Rumi’s chest.
“Please.” It was more of a confession than a beg - a wispy and fragile thing contained in one out breath.
“There it is.”
A small tinkling noise. Zoey’s fingers at her throat - a click. And her collar was on. Rumi was safe and loved and nothing else mattered but the feel of it. She swallowed heavily just to feel it more. Nothing else mattered. She was a good toy. Rumi felt herself relax for the first time in a while, sinking fully into the pool.
Zoey slipped the blindfold off. She squinted against the low light. Zoey’s face was pink, a sheen of sweat and a soft gaze. It was so good just to see her. So good. She lifted her hand to take a picture but Rumi wasn’t looking; she was too busy memorising Zoey’s face in case it was taken away again. Her freckles, the tiny scar on her chin from falling off her skateboard, the softness of her hair curling around her ear. And her smile. Fuck, her smile - radient, sunshine coming out from behind clouds on a spring afternoon. Rumi wanted to get lost in it for the rest of her life, she wanted every single detail locked away where they’d never be forgotten.
“You drove me crazy today, really crazy.” Zoey continued tracing the patterns. A finger through her collar pulled it tight against her.
“I’m sorry.” Rumi said automatically. Which got her an open mouthed kiss.
“It’s okay. You’re going to make it up to me.”
Rumi nodded. Zoey moved lower, pressed her lips against her nipple, her stomach, her thigh and Rumi didn’t even try to hide how much she needed it, how much she so desperately needed Zoey right that second before the fire consumed her. The finger slipped from her collar as Zoey’s hands pressed her legs open and maybe it was embarrassing to want her so badly Rumi could feel her cunt clenching around nothing and she needed to be filled. She needed it like she needed air to breathe.
“Oh princess, you’re drenched.”
Zoey’s fingers moved closer and Rumi whined openly, jerking her hips as if that would help, as if that ever helped.
“I don’t even think I need to get you ready.” Zoey planted a kiss against her fingers. Rumi shuddered under her, every inch of her surrendering. “You’re already dripping for me.”
“Please. Please, something, anything.” Rumi’s voice cracked.
Zoey leaned over towards the bag again, leaving a trail with her tongue as she went.
“I figured you didn’t have your own so I got you one.”
She brandished something long and thick and the same exact purple as Rumi’s hair. Something with a harness hanging from it. Fuck. Fuck was that for her? She felt the heat in her patterns before the heat in her face, the fire roaring so loud in her brain she could barely summon a coherent thought.
“Yes. Yes Zoey, please.” She could hear the whining in her voice, she could feel the desperation leaking from her but it got a smile and it was worth whatever teasing would come later, anything for Zoey, anything she wanted at all.
Zoey broke away for the briefest of moments and stepped into it, Rumi cranking her neck to see. Her hands still hadn’t been released. Zoey stood all curves and coiled-spring energy - sliding the dildo into place like she’d done it a thousand times before; and maybe she had. Now there was a sight. It jutted out obscenely, hanging low on her hips, large against her small hand, and Rumi swallowed.
Zoey knelt between her thighs. “Ready?” She said softly.
Rumi knew she had to speak. She had to say something. But she could only just nod, once, sharp. The excitement met fear. It was thrilling and slightly terrifying because she’d never had anything other than their fingers in her. But Zoey knew, she had to know. She touched a fingertip to Rumi’s clit and the fire roared around any other thoughts but the need for her to do it again and again and again. It slid over her and into her almost immediately. Zoey raised her eyebrows.
“Do you want me to be gentle?”
A toy didn’t get to choose; Rumi knew that. But Zoey also didn’t ask her toys how they liked it - she just used them. “However you like, just - please.”
Zoey's eyes flashed. She spoke again, slower, firmer. “Do you want me to be gentle?”
“No.” Low and breathy. Almost a whisper.
Raised eyebrows, a wicked smile; correct answer. She lined up the strap and Rumi bit her lip. If only she could touch. If only she could pull Zoey in closer. It pressed in and she whined - the stretch was so delicious. Just on the edge of pain to make it feel all the better. Zoey’s fingers on her clit as she stopped halfway in, swirling around in tight little circles that sent her spinning. She’d been waiting too long, far too long.
“More. Please. More.”
“Easy. Or it will hurt.”
Rumi groaned. She’d done everything. Everything. She wanted what she wanted, her whole body was taught with it. It had been burning so low and hot all day and Zoey was just sitting there - still teasing, still holding her where she couldn’t stay much longer.
“I don’t care.”
“But I do.” Zoey sank another small amount. Infuriatingly small. "I love seeing you like this - I’m not going to hurt you."
Rumi felt every word vibrate through her. The circles on her clit continued as Zoey took one of her nipples in her mouth and sucked it softly. Then the other. The curtain of her hair brushed against her skin and every sensation ratcheted her stomach tighter.
"Do you know how lucky I feel right now?" Zoey said.
Rumi groaned, the sound dragged from deep inside her throat, as Zoey sank her hips. Inside her. She had Zoey inside her, filling her up, stretching her out. It threw a tank of oxygen on the fire tearing its way through her chest. Zoey continued the pressure. Slow. Far too slow. Rumi wriggled and pressed her heels against Zoey’s back and she had to be nearly all the way inside she had to be there was no more space. Then their hips met and Rumi was full in a way that quieted every thought she’d ever had. Zoey’s mouth on hers, her fingers still moving against her making her back arch and sending shockwaves of pleasure ricocheting through her. It continued until Zoey threw her leg over her shoulder and, somehow, deepened the sensation.
Zoey’s phone was in her hand again and Rumi felt the deep blush. She pulled back just a little took it from her chest - so all of Rumi and most of the strap would be in shot. She wanted to cover her face. Even if it would only be seen by Mira she still wanted to cover her face.
“You’re so gorgeous princess, no need to be embarrassed.” Zoey tapped her phone and the little woosh let her know it’d been sent. “She’s going to love this.”
Rumi rolled her hips against the dildo. The pressure was intense. Not that she’d expected anything less. Zoey began to grind against her - slow at first, then ramping up as if she couldn’t bear it anymore either. Rumi moaned, all reserves gone. Above her Zoey moved with confidence, assurance, and she allowed herself what she’d wanted all day. To give in. To be looked after. Zoey slipped a finger through her collar, all pink cheeks and laughing delight, rutting into her like an animal.
“Tell me how it feels.”
“Full. I feel so full. Fuck, Zoey-” She wasn't even sure if it was a curse or a demand as Zoey lent in for a kiss and pushed her thigh into her shoulder, making the aching fullness take a deliciously sharp edge. “Harder.”
Zoey pressed her palm against Rumi’s belly and continued, relentlessly. Rumi squirmed and wriggled against it which just made the whole thing feel even better. Zoey bore her teeth in something closer to a snarl than a smile as she gripped the back of her neck and kissed her again, teeth on her lip sharp enough for Rumi to taste iron. Not that she cared. Not that she could think about anything other than the delicious helplessness in being tied down and taken. The tempo changed, Zoey slowed, drawing the thick strap in and out in a sawing motion that was going to cut Rumi in two.
“Zoey, please.”
Slow. Insistant. In and out of her and every time Zoey bottomed out Rumi felt something tug deep in her lower belly. The fire burnt her patterns so bright and hot that they were lighting up Zoey’s savage grin. Every time she pulled back Rumi wanted to drag her close - grinding her hips up to get every last inch of sensation.
“Please.” Rumi was whining now, unable to control the waver in her voice. Everything was Zoey and nothing else mattered - her hips driving slowly, the muscles working under the smooth plain of her stomach, her fingers still working tight little circles against Rumi's clit.
“I want to film you.”
“Yes, yes, whatever you want.” Rumi spoke before thinking. Not that she was doing much of that - her brain was still stuck a long time ago when she was still allowed to think. “Just fuck me.”
Zoey’s hand disappeared from her stomach and her phone was in her hand in an instant. She didn’t miss a beat, continuing the slow, exasperating, rock of her hips as she did it. Two taps and she set it on the nightstand, facing forward so Rumi got a good look at the whole filthy scene; the way the straps hugged Zoey’s ass, the sheen of sweat on both of them, how her own body was contorted gorgeously. Zoey pressed record and looked down. Rumi could see the love shining out of her but she didn’t need that she needed fucked. A whine, low in the throat and Zoey was still going too slow. Rumi wriggled as best as her bound hands and trapped leg would let her.
Zoey looked up at the camera and winked. Then proved why she was known amongst the three of them as the one with the most stamina in bed - snapping her hips forward suddenly and ripping a moan from Rumi’s throat. It didn’t let up. She pounded into her in the exact way Rumi had been hoping for - filling her to the brim over and over and over so fast and hard her heartbeat couldn’t keep up. Rumi felt the wave cresting, the fire hitting a peak.
“Look at the camera, princess.” Zoey said breathlessly. “Give her a show.”
Rumi did as she was told. The girl on the screen was flush with pleasure, mouth hanging open, groaning openly. She came hard staring straight down the barrel of the lens just like she’d been trained to for years, back arching, fists clenching, desperately trying to keep her eyes open so Mira could see just how much she was enjoying herself.
Zoey slowed but not before dragging out every last aftershock. Rumi’s leg was dropped onto the bed again and Zoey was on her lips and kissing like she was drowning and Rumi was the surface of the water she couldn't quite reach. The teeth on her lip was a hazy kind of pain and she was still feeling the buzzing, gorgeous, pleasure right down her spine.
“Good girl.”
The praise sent a shockwave through her and her patterns and flared golden. Zoey blew a kiss to the camera before hitting stop and immediately sending it, though Rumi was barely looking. She couldn’t even raise her head if she wanted to.
“Okay, this is going to feel weird.”
Zoey pulled back in a smooth motion and it did feel weird. Empty where was once full. Rumi could feel herself twitching against the absence, as if her body didn’t want to let the sensation go. Her hands were released from the bedframe and she immediately pulled Zoey close to her again. Even through the haze Rumi recognised an opportunity when she saw one - running her hands over every inch of Zoey she could reach; the soft curve of her hips, the column of her neck, the ladder of her ribcage. Zoey’s laugh was as refreshing as spring rain on Rumi’s scorched nerves. The strap was big enough she couldn’t close her thumb and forefinger around it.
But then Zoey was pulling away and climbed off the bed. Laser focus, eyes lidded, drunk on her own power, Zoey pointed at her feet.
“You’ve made a mess, princess. Clean it up.”
Rumi looked up at her; she had absolutely no idea how that worked. But Zoey’s expression brokered no negotiation. Rumi got to her knees. She stared at the dildo, slick with her own cum, long enough to reach from jaw to temple, and thick enough it'd be a struggle. That went inside her? All of it? She focused on the freckles like splattered paint she could see - running her fingertips over them as if she could memorise them by touch alone. The palm at the back of her head pulling her forward made it clear exactly what Zoey wanted.
Rumi opened her mouth, licked the tip experimentally.
What she hadn’t expected was Zoey’s groan. And the encouragement was all she needed. She wrapped her lips around the tip of it, slackening her jaw - tasting herself. If Zoey wanted a show that’s what she’d get. It was surprisingly easy. Rumi slid more of it into her mouth and enjoyed the sigh that came with it. Zoey’s hips jerked. Did that feel good? It had to by the hands in her hair, pressing her deeper. Rumi gagged a little, pulled back, then sank back in.
“You’ve no idea how good you look right now -” Zoey’s head fell back “-sucking my dick.”
Rumi didn’t anticipate the thrill of pleasure that ran through her at that. Hell yes she’d suck Zoey’s dick if she liked it so much. She redoubled her efforts, hands gripping Zoey’s hips to pull her in further.
Shutter click, over and over. Rumi couldn’t even bring herself to be ashamed anymore. If Mira wanted a show too she’d give her one. A beep. Recording. Rumi swallowed Zoey’s dick so deep down her throat she nearly gagged again. She was pleased to find that if she took it all the way, Zoey groaned - on camera. Mira would see; the thought made her stomach clench and she got lost in what she was doing. Until fingers were at her jaw and lifting it up; camera off to one side, seeing everything. Rumi felt the drool on her chin, the flush of her cheeks, the patterns beating a steady pulse of colour. Zoey smiled behind the camera.
“Look at her. Isn't she a gorgeous little cocksucker?”
Rumi didn’t answer, simply ducked her head back down and got another groan from Zoey. The fingers on her jaw didn’t let her continue for more than a handful of seconds before dragging her upwards again.
“Tell her how much you're enjoying this, princess.” Unyielding. “Tell her how much you like sucking my dick after I’ve fucked you stupid.”
“I love it.” Rumi said, the dildo a breath away from her mouth, “I wish you were here.”
“Perfect.” Zoey tapped and the video was gone. Rumi could only imagine the effect it would have. Or what she’d be in for when Mira got home. The thought of Mira, alone in her hotel room, watching the videos, seeing their pictures, getting worked up, made her spine stiffen.
Zoey undid the harness - her hand threaded in Rumi’s hair keeping her exactly where she was.
“Just a little more, you’re doing so well.”
She forced Rumi’s head down, not that there was much resistance. Make her feel good. Got it. Rumi ran her tongue over Zoey’s clit in short, sharp, movements. She slipped two fingers inside herself and rocked her hips back onto them. It wasn’t the same but it was something at least. Looking up Zoey just smirked.
“Greedy little thing.” Zoey admonished with no malice.
She ran her tongue through Zoey’s folds, then in to her. The taste of her. She could get drunk on it. Sweet and tart and delicious and Rumi would do this all night, forever, if allowed. The collar on her throat seemed to constrict. Zoey shifted and squirmed. Rumi took a risk, using her shoulder to nudge Zoey from where she was standing and onto Mira’s mattress, legs off the bed and Rumi still kneeling between them. Zoey on her back was there a better sight in the entire world?
With free hands Rumi could do what she liked. Which was immediately filling Zoey with three fingers and using her tongue for the rest. Zoey’s low moan was worth every moment of teasing, every moment of denial, every ounce of pain. Rumi was good, she was useful, she was loved. Zoey tipped over the edge without warning - hard and fast against Rumi's tongue. She took it all. She could take anything. Zoey’s hand on her hair stopped her going further - dragging Rumi up and to her mouth.
The blip-blip-blip of a call should have let her know what was happening. Unfortunately Rumi was distracted by the lips on hers and Zoey’s soft body underneath her and the new ability to touch wherever she liked. It stopped suddenly. Then Zoey’s fingers were inside her suddenly and she was rocking onto them with Zoey’s arm about her shoulders and holding her tight and her mouth at her neck and her thumb on her her clit and it was too much. It was too much. She moaned into Zoey’s shoulder, teeth biting down, that close already.
“Come for us. Come on camera.”
Rumi lost it. She came with an arched back and a whine - hard and fast gripped in Zoey’s arms, collapsing into her immediately; boneless and breathless.
“That was so hot.” Mira. It was enough to make Rumi’s head snap up. She was here?
She was, but only on screen.
“I miss you.” Rumi said.
“I miss you too princess; that was fucking gorgeous.” Mira’s voice was deep and soothing. Rumi felt the praise somewhere deep inside her, somewhere soft and tender where no one else but her girls could reach. Her patterns flared a soft and warm gold. “I’ll be home soon.”
“I love you.” Rumi replied, fuzzy from her orgasm.
“I love you too.”
Rumi untangled herself and lay flat on her back on Mira’s soft bed. She was going to sleep for a week. Zoey turned the phone towards herself. “We better have a repeat. You need to see this - it worked just like you said it would.”
“We will.” Mira replied. “We absolutely will. But videos, Zoey? I’m going to kill you - I was at dinner.”
Zoey laughed. “Answered my call quick enough though.”
“Couldn't resist. Give her a kiss from me.”
Zoey planted a kiss on Rumi’s forehead. She was struggling to keep her eyes open and get her breathing back to normal.
“Good.” Mira said. “I’ve got to go. I love you too Zoey.”
“Don’t be getting all soft on me.”
“I love you.” Mira said firmly.
“Fine. I love you too.” Zoey said, sticking her tongue out. The call ended.
Rumi could only lie there. There was nothing else left in her. No thoughts, no ideas, no ability to move. Floating, untethered, as if a strong wind could carry her off with it. Zoey moved to lie against her, throwing the ropes away, and moving Rumi so her head was laying on her chest. Zoey’s heartbeat rang in her ears - haphazard.
“Rumi-” The word formed then died on Zoey’s lips. “You’re amazing. That was amazing.”
Rumi snuggled deeper into her chest. Words were beyond her. But she could wrap her arms around the body beside her and that had to be enough. Rumi hummed a response and squeezed tighter. Zoey had to know. She had to know she was amazing too, right? Her collar burned against her neck like it knew it’d be taken off soon.
“Did you see her face? I think she enjoyed that as much as we did.” Zoey said. Rumi breathed deeply. Somehow, still, Zoey's lemon-salt perfume had clung to her, familiar and soothing. A small shake of her arm. “Hey, you okay or have I broken you?”
“Yes.” Rumi managed.
A light laugh and Zoey's fingers at her wrist, sliding around them gently and rubbing the red marks the rope had left. Another kiss on the forehead.
“Just making sure.”
Zoey's fingers left her wrist and moved to her collar. Rumi didn't mean to whine, it left her throat without permission. Don't make her think. Don't make her leave the comfort and safety of not having to make any decisions.
“Do you want to keep this on?”
She nodded
Zoey left it and kissed her forehead, ran her fingers through her hair and in that moment if she’d asked Rumi to die for her, to kill for her, she would have done it. Zoey shifted so they were laying flat, pulling the blankets to cover them. Rumi felt heavy - sated. The fingers in her hair were soothing. Zoey raked slow and steady, in time with her breathing and Rumi touched her collar. Wanted. Loved.
And wasn’t that all that mattered?