:p

Your cheeks reddened but you didn't let her words falter you. You looked up, meeting her eyes. “Yes, Cait, I need you.”

“But would you deserve it if I touched you?” Caitlyn moved closer, her breath tickling your face. Her hand cupped your heat through your panties, the only shred of dignity you still wore on your body. “You have been quite bratty lately, that's why you're tied up right now anyway.” Caitlyn’s hand squeezed your pussy, she grabbed the hem using a singular finger and dragged the fabric to your mid thighs, discarding it there. “You're so wet.” Caitlyn whispered, making your cheeks heat up more than before.

“It's all for you…” you bucked your hips hopelessly. “So won't you make it feel all good, mommy?”

Caitlyn laughed softly, “oh, you wish, sweetness, you wish. You've been such a brat I don't even think you deserve a good fingering.” In contrast to her words, her fingers sunk in your pussy, slender digits invading the tight space and filling you up.

“Oh, my goodness… it feels so good.” Caitlyn’s gaze darkened with lust, her fingers moving with a controlled pace so she didn't go too rough or too fast. Your clit throbbed for her. “Caitlyn, please— I need you.”

“I know.”

Her thumb pressed against your clit, touch soft and feather light. “Why are you so wet, baby?”

Caitlyn's fingers curled, you gasped and caught the sheets. She always knew how to make you break even when you put up your brattiest act ever. Your pussy was fluttering around her, as if it recognised her.

Caitlyn's other hand reached away to grab a pair of nipple clamps— you hadn't even noticed their presence until one of them clamped onto your perky nipples. You gasped, the sound sharp. “Cait!—”

“It's ‘mommy’, sweetheart.” Caitlyn corrected sweetly, her fingers moving faster making you whine out.

You tried to squirm away making her eyes narrow, she clamped your other nipple— not giving you a chance to get familiar with the burn on your breast. You winced.

“O-ow…”

Caitlyn revelled in the way your body shivered under her touch, her fingers worked faster to coax an orgasm out of you. As they did, her gaze was fixed on your chest, watching the way your clamped tits move with every thrust. They bounced subtly and made your nipples stiffen further between the teeth of the clamps. You whimpered.

“Mommy, I need you— I need to cum— fuck, Janna! I need— oh!”

Caitlyn enjoyed how you broke on mere two fingers of hers. You were whining, drool escaping your mouth from the corner, and rolling down. “Mmmm… mommy, I need more.”

Your pussy clenched, squelching around her fingers making her chuckle. Your pussy was drooling everywhere, the wetness made her thrusting easier and faster. Caitlyn grabbed the clamp of one of your nipples and gave it a subtle tug. You whimpered, your back arching off the mattress with a sharp gasp. You squirted on her hand.

“Oh!—” Caitlyn almost withdrew her hand from surprise. Then she smiled. “Did you just squirt on me?” Your cheeks flushed redder than ever before.

“Cait— I'm so—”

“Shush, don't speak.” Caitlyn stuck in a third finger, curling all three of them inside you. You screamed softly.

“M-mommy!”

“There you go, what a good girl. You wanna pay up for your bratty attitude by gushing for mommy?” Caitlyn leaned in, “that's a good start, baby, come on. Do that again, now.”

TAGLIST:

you couldn’t help it. a sly, teasing grin spread across your face. “wow that looks…difficult,” you said, voice light, almost innocent. “need a hand?”

her eyes snapped to yours, blazing. “don’t. even. think about it,” she hissed. but her fingers fumbled again, the tip of her xxl cock glistening in the dim light, pulsing, throbbing — too big for anything to fit easily.

“honestly i didn’t think it’d be that…massive,” you teased, biting your lip. “you might actually need help.”

that was it. she lost it. in a flash, she grabbed you by the shoulders, hauling you closer, eyes dark, teeth bared. “you little brat,” she growled, voice low, dangerous. “you think this is funny? you think you get to make fun of me while i’m-i’m tryin to —” her hand slammed down on your ass, pulling a gasp from your lips. “i’ll show you what happens to smart mouths.”

your heart hammered, but the grin stayed. you wiggled just a little, pressing against her, just to push her buttons more.

“oh? you’re gonna punish me?” you whispered, voice teasing. “i mean…i don’t think you can even fit me on top of your…problem…”

her eyes went wide, a mix of shock and rage and something darker swirling there. and then she moved. fast.

one hand yanked you by the hair to tilt your head back, lips pressing to yours in a bruising kiss, tongue slipping in, teeth grazing your bottom lip. the other hand went down, gripping the base of her huge brown cock, and she finally got the condom to roll down…barely. it stretched over her length, the tight latex fighting against her size, her knuckles white from the effort.

“you’re lucky i love you,” she groaned into your mouth, voice thick, strained, as she adjusted the condom, making sure it was secure. “or i’d — fuck i’d wreck you for that mouth of yours.”

you moaned, feeling her pressing against you, the head of her cock brushing your entrance through the thin fabric of your panties. “mmm… i love how angry you get,” you whispered, hands roaming her back, feeling the tension in her muscles. “makes it biggerrr, oh so much bigger.”

her growl shook the room. she flipped you onto your stomach, hands pressing you flat against the mattress. “bigger?” she repeated, voice low, dangerous. “you wanna see how big i can make it feel inside you?”

your body shivered at her words, at the tautness of the condom stretched over that length. she lined up with your entrance, pressing in just enough to tease, then pulling back, dragging the tip over your sensitive folds. “tell me you want it,” she demanded. “tell me you’ve been teasin me so i can fuck that smug little mouth of yours later.”

“ohh sevikaa i don’t just want it,” you gasped, voice trembling. “fuuck i need it”

that was all she needed. she slammed in, hard, stretching you fully, every thrust deep and merciless. your cries filled the room, muffled against the pillow she shoved under your face. her hands gripped your hips, pulling you back to meet every violent, perfect thrust.

“you like teasin me huh, sweetheart?” she growled between thrusts. “you little brat,” her cock hit places you didn’t think were possible, every inch of her huge cock filling you, the condom straining with each punishing push.

“y-yes please! moremoremoreer” you moaned, fingers digging into the sheets, body shaking as she fucked you harder, faster, a relentless rhythm. slap slap, squelch squelch!!

“you think you getta play with me?” she snapped, pinching your nipples through your shirt, making you yelp. “you think you getta tease me while i struggle with this…this…monster for you?”

your laugh was breathless, shaky. “i just, hahh looooveee watching you struggle, baby.”

that was it. her restraint broke. hands and mouth everywhere, she had you pinned, her big daddy dick driving deep, hitting every perfect angle, while she fucked you with a ferocity you’d never known. cheeks slapped, hair pulled, her voice rough and commanding. every inch of you was overwhelmed, overstimulated, drowning in her dominance and sheer size.

finally, after what felt like hours of being ravaged, she slowed, pulling back, breathing heavy, eyes softening as she looked at you, chest heaving. “shit, sweetheart. i…god, i didn’t mean to…” she murmured, almost gentle, stroking your hair, running hands over your bruised, glistening body.

you smiled, trembling, face flushed. “mmm you love me,” you whispered. “even when you’re mad at me.”

she groaned, collapsing next to you, pulling you close. “i love you so much,” she admitted, voice rough. “but you, you’re impossible.”

and somehow…that made everything feel right.

© lonerslug

the clock in the drawing room ticked with surgical precision, each second a reminder of how long you’d been waiting. you weren’t allowed to sit anywhere comfortable — you’d learned that the hard way. the first time, you’d curled up on her chaise, and when caitlyn came home, she’d smiled coldly and told you to kneel instead.

now, you always waited for her on your knees. hands folded in your lap. back straight, no matter how badly it ached.

and gods, it ached tonight.

she kept you waiting hours.

when the door finally opened, you didn’t breathe until you heard her boots on the floorboards. sharp, clipped, deliberate. every step heavy with authority.

“stand,” she ordered, not even looking at you yet.

you scrambled up, heart racing because her commands always felt like life or death.

caitlyn’s coat was still on, black and sharp at the edges, flecked with rain. she pulled off her gloves slowly, peeling them from her long fingers like she had all the time in the world. when her eyes finally cut to you, it was like a blade slicing clean through flesh.

“loyal little thing,” she murmured, closing the space between you with a predatory calm. her gloved hand gripped your chin, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to meet her gaze. “tell me, would you die for me?”

your mouth went dry, “yes.”

her smirk was cruel. “how sweet. but let’s not be dramatic. i don’t need you to die for me. i need you to obey.”

you nodded quickly, throat tight.

she leaned down just enough for her lips to ghost over your ear. “you’d do anything i asked, wouldn’t you?”

you swallowed. “anything.”

“good.” she pulled back, studying you like she was evaluating a weapon’s worth. “then don’t make me regret keeping you.”

her words twisted in your chest, painful and intoxicating all at once. you should’ve hated her for it, but instead, you felt the shameful heat building low in your stomach.

caitlyn noticed, of course she did. her smirk widened as her hand slid from your chin to your throat, thumb pressing lightly against the pulse there. not choking, not yet — just a reminder that she could.

“pathetic,” she whispered. “look at you. you’d melt for the smallest scrap of attention.”

your cheeks burned.

“strip,” she ordered.

and you did, fumbling with your clothes under the weight of her gaze, knowing she was watching every movement, judging every inch of bare skin you revealed. when you stood naked before her, she circled you once, slow and deliberate, like a hunter appraising her prey.

finally, she sat back in her chair, legs spread just slightly, gloves discarded on the armrest. she gestured lazily.

“on your knees again.”

you obeyed instantly, heat pooling in your belly.

she tapped her thigh with two fingers. “ride it.”

your breath caught. “caitlyn— ”

her eyes snapped to yours, icy and sharp. “do not make me repeat myself.”

shame and desire tangled tight in your chest as you crawled forward, straddling her thigh. the fabric of her trousers was rough against your skin, the press of her muscle firm beneath you. she tilted her head, watching with detached amusement as you hesitated.

“go on,” she murmured, lips curving in a mocking smile. “show me how desperate you are.”

her thigh was unrelenting beneath you, the sharp cut of her uniform pants dragging against your clit every time you moved. you tried to grind quietly, to hold in the needy little sounds clawing up your throat, but caitlyn wasn’t having it.

her hand shot up into your hair, fisting hard, yanking your head back until your spine arched. a whimper spilled from your lips.

“pathetic,” she hissed, pulling harder until your scalp burned. “don’t hold back. i want to hear how desperate you are.”

you let the sound break free then — soft, shameless moans, each one louder as you moved against her thigh. the friction was maddening, sharp little sparks building low in your stomach.

her free hand slid down your cheek, then — slap.

she slapped you. not hard enough to bruise, but enough to sting, enough to make your eyes water.

“you like that, don’t you?” she murmured, leaning close, lips brushing your ear as she dragged her thigh up just slightly, giving you more pressure. “you’ll take anything i give you. even pain.”

your breath hitched, tears spilling hot down your cheeks as you ground down harder, chasing the friction. you hated how true her words were, how much you needed her even when she was cruel.

another slap. sharper this time. you gasped, hips stuttering against her leg, but she just laughed low in her throat.

“so needy,” she mocked, yanking your hair tighter until your head tilted back, throat bared. “you’d let me break you just to feel useful.”

you whimpered, hips rocking faster, thighs trembling. “please —! ”

“please what?” her voice cut like glass. “use your words, or i’ll stop.”

the threat made your chest seize. you couldn’t bear it if she stopped.

“please, caitlyn,” you begged, voice shaking. “please don’t stop, please, i need it—”

she smirked, releasing your hair just long enough to grip your throat instead, fingers pressing tight around the column of your neck. not enough to cut off air. but enough to remind you who was in control.

“that’s better,” she purred. “beg for me like the whore you are.”

your vision blurred with tears as you rode her thigh, faster and harder, the wet sound of your cunt grinding against her pants filling the room. her hand tightened around your throat, her thigh flexing beneath you, and the pressure sent you spiraling.

you came with a choked cry, clinging to her uniform, shuddering as your release soaked through the fabric.

but she didn’t let you rest.

her hand tangled back in your hair, yanking you off her thigh, dragging you to the floor in front of her. she spread her legs wider, undoing the buckle of her belt with agonising slowness, her smirk sharp and cruel.

“on your knees where you belong,” she said softly, pulling you close by your hair. “and open that pretty mouth.”

you swallowed hard, lips brushing against the heat of her cunt through her trousers. she tugged your hair painfully until you opened your mouth without protest, and only then did she shove your face down, grinding you against the seam of her pants.

“pathetic little pet,” she hissed. “so eager to lick, even when i haven’t given you permission.”

your tears smeared against the fabric as you rubbed your tongue over the rough cloth, desperate for the taste of her.

finally, finally, she pulled her pants open, tugging them down just enough to free herself. she was wet already, slick with stress and anger and want, and she shoved your face into it without hesitation.

“there,” she spat, hand fisting your hair so tight your scalp screamed. “make yourself useful.”

you licked eagerly, tongue tracing her folds, dipping into her entrance, dragging up to her clit. the taste of her flooded your mouth, hot and intoxicating.

she moaned low in her throat, but it wasn’t soft — it was edged with fury, like she hated needing this.

“faster,” she snapped, grinding her cunt against your mouth, smearing herself over your face. “don’t make me tell you twice.”

you obeyed instantly, sucking her clit, tongue flicking, fingers digging into her thighs for balance.

crack.

her hand slapped your cheek again, sharp and stinging.

“sloppy,” she snarled, hips bucking against you. “god, you’re so fucking sloppy. can’t even eat me right without drooling all over yourself.”

the sting made your cunt ache, made you work harder, licking her deeper, sucking until her thighs trembled against your ears.

she yanked your head back just enough so you could see her face — eyes wild, mouth parted, sweat shining at her temple.

“look at you,” she spat, giving your cheek another slap. “on your knees, tears running down your face, just to calm me down. is that what you are? my stress relief?”

you nodded frantically, lips wet, chin slick with her arousal. “yes! yes caitlyn, anything—”

her grip tightened in your hair, shoving your mouth back down onto her cunt so hard you almost choked.

“then shut up and eat,” she growled.

you obeyed, tongue and lips working desperately, until she came with a sharp cry, grinding against your face, holding you there while her release spilled hot over your mouth.

she didn’t let go until she was finished, until you were gasping for air when she finally dragged your head back.

caitlyn looked down at you, breath heaving, face flushed, but her smirk was cruel.

“pathetic little thing,” she whispered, giving your tear streaked cheek one last slap, softer this time, almost mocking. “you really will do anything, won’t you?”

you stayed on the floor where she’d left you, knees bruised against the rug, hair a tangled mess from her fists, cheeks still stinging from her slaps. your lips were swollen, your chin slick with her release, and you waited — like maybe she’d pull you into her lap, maybe she’d let you curl against her chest.

but she didn’t.

she blew out a long stream of smoke, eyes fixed on the skyline through the tall window. piltover’s spires glowed against the night, cold and distant, just like her.

“don’t look at me like that,” she said flatly, not even glancing your way.

your chest tightened. “like what?”

her lips curled into a humourless smile as she flicked ash into the tray. “like you think this means something.”

your throat ached, raw from begging, but you forced out, “doesn’t it?”

finally, her eyes cut to you. sharp, merciless, the same way she looked at her enemies. “no.”

the word landed like a knife.

you looked down, nails biting into your palms, trying to swallow the sting.

she leaned forward slightly, resting her elbow on her knee, cigarette glowing faint between her fingers. her voice softened, but it wasn’t kindness, it was warning.

“don’t get attached,” she murmured. “i told you before. this isn’t forever.”

the air between you felt heavy, suffocating.

she tapped her ash again, eyes already drifting back to the city. “you’re here because i don’t like silence. because i don’t like sleeping alone. that’s all.”

the words twisted something deep in you, painful, ugly, but you still nodded. because what else could you do? you’d already given her everything — your body, your loyalty, your pride.

she would never love you. not the way you loved her.

and when vi finally walked into her life, you knew you’d be discarded like smoke fading in the night.

but instead of kneeling there, waiting for her to decide if you were worth the scraps of her attention, something inside you snapped.

you pulled yourself up off the floor, legs shaky, throat raw, every bruise on your body screaming — but you stood anyway.

caitlyn finally turned, brows raising as if she couldn’t believe you’d dared to move without permission.

“where do you think you’re going?” she asked coolly, cigarette balanced between her fingers like a blade.

your voice was hoarse, trembling with anger and hurt, but it came out clear enough:

“fuck you, cait.”

you didn’t wait for her reaction. you changed back into your clothes and walked toward the door, each step louder than the last, the sound echoing through the hollow estate.

behind you, there was silence for a long moment. then her voice cut through the air, sharp and cold:

“you’ll come back.”

you froze, hand on the doorknob, heart twisting.

and then softer — quieter, almost like she hated herself for saying it,

“…they always come back.”

you didn’t look back. this time, you walked out.

Yet you're kneeling in front of her with your hands braced on her thighs, tugging at her belt with your teeth, "he won't know." You whisper.

Sevika's dark lips were closed around a cigarillo, she took an inhale, her eyes lazily blinking at your desperate form.

Instead of denying you it all, she just raises her boot, placing it under your cunt. "If you can cum on it just by grinding, I'll consider this... Arrangement."

ꨄ︎ You go to Sevika's house every weekend after finishing all your projects due for college. And she never disappoints. Her age gives her much more experience than you and she definitely wasn't new to pleasuring a woman. She knew all your spots. All.

Her hands move over your neck deftly, as if measuring the amount of pressure she'll need to choke you out— doing the mental math. Then she applies the pressure, it's delicious. Your eyes roll back and you try so desperately to try to get some friction against your pussy but she doesn't let you. She knows how to make you grow needier with every passing second, and she's doing exactly that.

"Look at you, so desperate for a woman so much older than you. Dollie, it seems you have a type." She laughs and spits at you. But you only fall deeper and deeper in love.

ꨄ︎ Sevika fucks you in front of the big mirror of her bedroom, your hands are gripping the edges of the mirror so hard your knuckles go white. But you don't dare let go. She's hitting it from the back, humongous strap pumping in and out with every lustful thrust. The loud squelching the only sound making sense in your head as you watch yourself losing all dignity to your dad's best friend.

"He'll kill us both if he finds out!" You gasp, and moan her name right after. The irony of the situation was palpable.

Sevika laughs, grabbing the back of your neck and yanking you back, "watch yourself in the mirror, sweetheart," she slams herself deeper, "and you'd be more dead than me."

"Fuck! Daddy, ugh!" Your eyes squeeze shut but her grip around your neck tightening forces you to hold eye contact with your wrecked reflection.

She grips your waist with her other hand, pacing up with every other thrust. "You're gonna coat this dick. Fuckin' coat this dick with your cum and piss." She slaps your ass and fucks you harder.

You feel the pressure building.

Oh, no.

You don't want to. Not in front of her. That's so embarrassing. But no matter how much you're trying you hold back, the constant pumping of the silicone cock makes your bladder weaken against the pressure.

"Daddy, please, no, it's gonna come out." You squeaked, but then she grabs one of your arms, yanking it back, fucking you so much harder than before.

You scream out, cheek pressed against the cold mirror as a thin stream of piss exits you. You're a mess, sobbing softly as Sevika's pace slowed and she pulls away. "Fuck. You're such a cute little thing." She turns you around, hands under your thighs as she easily hauls you up.

You kiss her, it's messy and heated and you feel the way she holds you tightly in her bruising grip. And you're only falling deeper and deeper into a love you know no way out of.

You scrunched your nose, exaggerating. “What?”

“An auto repair shop.”

You turned so hard, your book knocked over to the floor. But you didn’t care. “You— what!?”

“Yes, baby, yes!” Sevika giggled, a sound you’d never heard before.

“I’m so proud of you, honey!” You climbed into her lap, kissing her sloppily— at this point, you didn’t even care that she was home late and drunk. You were too proud of your wife to care about those.

The night went in a blur of touchy hands and sloppy makeout sessions. The morning light peeked through the curtains making you groggily blink at the surroundings of the room. Sevika had already left for the opening of the garage.

You groaned and shifted to sit, your hand crumbled a paper— a note left by her. It said— “come over when you’re awake, baby, we can eat out for breakfast today.”

When you turned up, Sevika wasn’t out there waiting for you but one of the workers gestured to the office. You thanked him and walked to the office, your heels clicking against the floor with every step you took. The handle turned and you appeared at the threshold— stealing Sevika’s breath away with the ridiculously small skirt you had on.

“The fuck is that?” She growled, crossing the room in two long strides. She pinned you to the wall, slamming the door shut behind you, and locking it.

“Uh… What’s what?” You grinned a little.

“That.” Sevika tugged the skirt.

“Clothes.” You replied coolly.

“Oh, girl, you better behave.” Sevika pulled you by the wrist in front of her polished desk. Your palms landed onto the surface of the desk, ass out. You gasped when she grabbed the hem of your skirt and pulled it up hastily— “look at you, even wore the sluttiest thong ever.”

“S-Sev…”

“What, now you can’t speak?” Sevika slapped your ass, “what happened to my mouthy little princess?”

Sevika unbuckled her belt and let her dick out, it was already hard when she pressed the head against your pussy. You were so tight when you felt her length entering your pussy— every excruciating inch stretching you out impossibly wide.

“Oh, Janna,” your face planted sideways onto the desk as you tried to take all of her smoothly.

“You look so good like this, princess.” Sevika squeezed your ass before she pulled back and slammed herself inside. You gasped, hand flying to cover your mouth. “There you go, not a single peep— yeah? What would the mechanics think?”

Your cheeks flushed red. “That’s unfair…”

“Oh, I’ll decide what’s unfair. You focus on takin’ my dick,” she slapped your ass again and rolled her hips forward making you whine into your hand.

Her pace was rough and deep— every thrust sending you over the edge but Sevika wasn’t satisfied with the way she ruined you so her hand shot out, wrapping around the tail of your hair. She looped it securely and then tugged it back sharply. The pain made your eyes water and pussy clench but you didn’t ask her to stop. It felt too good.

“Oh, fuck!” You yelped into your hand, lips pressed together tightly as she fucked you— ruined you from behind. “Baby, I’m so close.”

“I am too,” Sevika grunted, her hand holding your hair firmer than before as she tugged again, “arch properly for daddy.”

You obliged, you never disobeyed really unless you were being bratty on purpose just to get out in your place and this time was no different. You moaned into your hand once again before you came undone. She wasn’t done though, and you felt it when she slapped your ass again.

“You wanna take all of daddy’s cum like a good cum bucket?”

“Yes, yes!” Your other hand’s fingers slipped on the desk due to sweat, but your grip was firm as you tried to hold in again.

She let out a low, guttural groan before you felt her warm seed filling you up with a little twitch of her member inside you. You felt so warm and stuffed when she pulled out. The cum threatened to dribble out but you clenched timely, sealing it inside.

“I’m so full, daddy…”

“Ain’t that good?” she chuckled, sinking onto her chair in front of the desk. “Get over here.”

You climbed into her lap, “mm…”

“You wanna rest up a little before breakfast?”

“Or maybe round two?”

“I missed you too, now come oooooon, I'm cooking!” you said, waving the spatula in an exaggerated gesture.

“Is cooking more important than your wife?” Sevika pouted, her lips moving against your neck and warming the skin. It made you shiver.

“Considering I'm cooking for my wife, I'd say both are equally important?”

Sevika just groaned into your neck before mumbling, “I've missed you, can we jus’ turn the stove off for a second?”

You laughed softly, “oh, why’s that?”

She didn't answer and just let out another little sound into your skin, muffled by the warmth. You giggled and pushed your butt back slightly against her crotch— yup, hard as a rock.

╰┈➤ Sevika turned you around and grabbed the hem of your shirt pulling it up. You weren't wearing pants.

“Gosh, you were ready.” She breathed out, her hands kneading the curve of your ass.

She pushed her member inside, thick and hard as she rammed into you with a sort of desperation that screamed how stressed out she was with work.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” She cursed under her breath as she rutted her hips into you from behind, letting her length drag against the tight walls of your pussy.

Your mouth formed an ‘o’, a small gasp leaving you. “Goodness, Vika.”

“Yeah? You like this dick?” Sevika’s growl was deep and guttural as she pulled your hands back and forced you to arch perfectly for her till you couldn't anymore.

“Yes, fuck! I love it!” You cried out, grasping the kitchen counter as Sevika's raw shaft pumped in and out with an animalistic pace.

You felt it twitch.

Your breath seized, the knot in your tummy tightened.

“Fuck!” You screamed out, “Sevika! Sevika!” Your pussy convulsed as you came all over her cock, dripping down the shaft and to the kitchen floor.

╰┈➤ Sevika had already came inside you several times but her pace never ceased, if anything she got rougher and sloppier.

“Goodness, you always take my dick so fuckin’ good.” She bit your shoulder making you whine out weakly.

“Sev—...! So much, t-too much!” Your hands were slipping from the counter but you tried to hold on to keep balance. Her length slammed in. Your eyes flew open, letting out yet another loud moan. “Fuck!”

“Take it, take all of me,” Sevika busted another load in you, the creamy liquid leaked from your overfilled hole and dripped down to the floor— mixing with your little puddles of arousal.

She pulled back and smirked at the sight of your elbows propped against the kitchen counter with desperation, ass raised up so she didn't have to constantly slap it to remind you of proper positioning. Your asshole looked a bit too lonely.

She spat on it. Then, stuck her thumb inside. A large, thick finger.

You gasped, jolting forwards, “SEV—!?”

Sevika just grinned and shoved it deeper, she moved it in and out slowly, “there, there, baby, you're so tight back here— damn.”

Just then, Sevika's cock poked against your hole again and you understood— you wouldn't get dinner ready anytime soon.

˖᯽ ݁˖ it was late at night and you were scrolling through vi's social media like a creep, hand rubbing the wetness of your crotch in instinct. you were needy but scared of dipping your perfectly manicured fingers in your soft, virgin pussy. a knock sounded out, you jumped up and tossed your phone to the side— one of vi's thirst traps still playing on the screen on mute. you stared eye to eye with the broad shouldered woman. then she smiled at you, gentle and comforting.

she walked and sat beside you, "i saw you looked a little nervous."

you gulped, "o-oh, you saw me...?" vi blinked at your stammered, panicked answer which sounded more like a question. then you cleared your throat, "im sorry, i just—"

"i know that look," vi shot up to her feet, staring at you, suddenly the room felt heavier and she seemed so much taller than you. when she walked to your room's door, you thought she'd leave. but she didn't. she clicked the knob, locking you both inside.

"vi, what are you doing...?"

vi walked upto you, "i see the way you look at me."

"vi, we have literally just met!" you flushed so red you could battle a strawberry.

"does that mean you don't want to kiss me?" vi asked, fully aware the answer wouldn't be a no.

˖᯽ ݁˖ vi undressed you slowly, "we don't have to take anything fast," she whispered before she kissed down your shoulder blade, hands pausing at your waistband, "may i?" you nodded with a sharp intake of breath, "you're doing okay, just breathe for me." she slipped your top and skirt off, revealing you in your lacy bra and comically cute panties. vi almost snorted, "you look... adorable."

your cheeks grew redder making you hide them, "don't say things like that," you whined making vi chuckle. she kissed your forehead and her hands moved over your chest like magic, one hand reaching down and yanking your bra over your tits, splitting the mounds to their natural positions. she smirked like a damn pervert. "vi!" you tried to cover your chest, "you're staring at me like a fucking— like a—!"

"like a what?" vi pulled your wrists away and stuffed her face into your tits, letting out a guttural moan. "amazing." she groaned, "im never gettin' outta here." you sighed.

˖᯽ ݁˖ you were now in her room, watching her scramble through her bags. "is it gonna hurt a lot?" you asked meekly, eyes fixed on the roundness of vi's ass, "vi?" she looked back with her eyes sparkling with the sort of joy she showed when she buried her face in your tits, she was holding up what seemed like a dick— a silicone dick with a harness. "found it!" she beamed as if she'd just unravelled some sort of a great mistery. you squinted, "what's that, vi?" your voice held a scared edge. vi walked over, smoothing over your robe covered thigh, "you're gonna be okay, baby, trust your big sis."

you rolled your eyes, "step. step big sis." you let the robe fall off, gulping thickly as you spread your legs out. "oh, no, no, we're not doin' it like that." vi fixed the harness around her waist with expertise, "there we go," she murmured and laid down herself, flat on her back. "straddle me." you blinked at her, and just stood there for a while before you moved on top of her, straddling her as you faced her. vi tapped your hip, "show me your ass."

you felt the heat creeping to your ears and neck as well, "o-okay."

"tell me if you need me to stop, yeah, pretty girl?"

"mhm..."

˖᯽ ݁˖ you lowered yourself onto the girthy shaft of her toy, your pussy stretched painfully but the sting felt delicious making your pussy get wetter than before. vi squeezed the fat of your ass, "you're okay, lower, baby." you obliged, sinking lower and lower till your ass hit the muscle of her toned abdomen. she smirked, "you're takin' my dick like a champ, sweet."

"it hurts, v-vi," you hissed out, pussy clenching around the intrusion before you felt vi give your hips a squeeze with both hands, using her grip on you to maneuver you up and down. "baby, please, it hurts..."

"you're not tellin' me to stop, doll." vi chuckled, "you like how my dick stretched your tight cunt out?"

"mhm, i do..." you mewled out, hands bracing on her muscular thighs tightly as she moved you up and down, watching the way your wetness seeped around the shaft of her strap, trickling to her bush and pussy underneath the base of the toy. the pain was dissolving into a kind of pleasure you'd never felt before and the intensity was overwhelming your tight little body.

˖᯽ ݁˖ vi slammed her cock up deeper into your body, your ass cheeks jiggled with every thrust, "oh fuck, doll, you're so pretty, your ass looks so good from this angle," she gripped your hips so tightly you felt them bruise under her strong fingers. you tightened, "baby, oh! oh my goodness, baby, it's a lot...!" vi rubbed your ass before giving it a slap, a firm slap but not enough to mark really, "i love when it jiggles under my hand," she said, squeezing your ass cheeks as she made you slam your body down on the strap harder.

"i feel it so deep," you gasped, hand on your lower abdomen as you felt vi's huge strap moving in and out, your pussy made the most lewd schlik sclik sounds ever. your eyes were bleary with tears of pleasure as you rode her huge cock. "im gonna cum! oh baby, im cumming!"

˖᯽ ݁˖ you woke up, head still reeling from last night and vi's muscular arms were around your naked body. you smiled at the sight of your step-sister deep asleep beside you, the sound of her breath the only sound in the room.

you smiled at her, "you're beautiful." you whispered before leaning in closer, your lips grazing vi's high cheekbone and watching the way her eyelashes fluttered against her pale cheeks. she cracked one eye open, only barely, "go back to sleep, babe, 's too early." and with that, she wrapped one heavy arm around you, pulling you down using the weight of her bicep, "jus' sleep in with me." your heart melted and you laid there with her, hands encircling around her too, "okay, baby, sleep tight." and with that you drifted off, too.

“f-fuck—fuck, baby, slow down” she whimpers, but her hips keep bucking up, chasing you. She’s blushing like she knows how pathetic she sounds, eyes wet. “I can’t—shit, I can’t take it, I’m gonna... gonna cum so hard”.

you lean down, press your mouth to her ear. “already? Pathetic little loser fucking look at you just after barely ten minutes.”

she whines loud, thighs trembling under you, tears clinging to her lashes. “I can’t help it, babygirl you feel so good, you’re so fucking tight, fuck I’ll do anything, just don’t stop, please don’t fucking stop”.

you slam down harder and faster, watching her fall apart, ellie’s biting her fist now, muffling her sobs, hips jerking like she’s lost all control. “hands down,” you order. “I want to hear you.”

she obeys, fist falling away and suddenly the room is filled with her cries, pathetic, broken sounds spilling out of her chest as the strap splits you open deeper, and she looks at you with glassy, desperate eyes, voice cracked: “baby, I’m your dumb little slut. Oh... fuck, fuck, I’m yours, I’m only yours!”.

you grab her face, nails digging into her jaw. “say it again... Say it!”

her back arches and tears streaking down her cheeks as she moans it over and over, voice wrecked. “I’m yours, I am, please I'm yours” until her whole body convulses beneath you and she cums untouched, soaking through her boxers, crying out like she’s breaking apart.

but you don’t stop, you grind down harder, chasing your own high and Ellie sobs, writhing beneath you, overstimulated, begging through her tears “don’t stop please... I can take it, I can take more! fuck, ruin me, make me yours forever.”

and you do, you fuck her until she’s incoherent, until she’s drooling, until all that’s left is your name on her tongue.

A FEW MONTHS AGO

The first time Caitlyn invited you to her family’s estate, you spent the entire tram ride over with your stomach twisting. It wasn’t just that you were meeting her parents— meeting the infamous Kirammans was something else entirely. Their name carried weight, prestige. They weren’t just anyone’s parents.

You smoothed your jacket as the gates of the mansion came into view, polished black iron curling into elaborate shapes. The place loomed in pale stone and tall windows, the kind of structure that didn’t need to announce its importance, it simply was.

“Relax,” Caitlyn said with a soft laugh, her gloved hand brushing yours as you walked up the path. She looked radiant, navy coat buttoned up perfectly, dark hair catching the winter light. “They’re not as frightening as you think.”

You tried to smile, but your heart kept hammering.

Inside, the mansion was worse— marble floors, chandeliers, art that looked older than Piltover itself. Everything was spotless, curated, cold. Caitlyn led you through with the confidence of someone who grew up here, tossing casual commentary about where she used to sneak biscuits from the kitchen as a child.

You were still staring up at the painted ceiling when you heard it,

“Caitlyn, darling, you’re home.”

The voice was low, smooth, commanding yet feminine. You turned, and there she was.

Cassandra Kiramman.

She descended the stairs like she owned not just the mansion, but the ground beneath it. Her hair was swept back elegantly, streaks of silver glinting under the light. Her dress was simple yet devastating— dark fabric hugging her waist, draping over her like it had been tailored to perfection. The heels clicked against marble with precision.

And her eyes…gods, her eyes locked on you, sharp and assessing, the kind that could pin someone in place without a word.

You swallowed. Hard.

“Mother,” Caitlyn smiled, stepping forward into her embrace. “This is my… partner.” She turned to you with a proud little tilt of her head. “The one I told you about.”

Cassandra’s gaze slid back to you, and it was like being caught under a spotlight. She extended a hand. Long fingers, manicured nails. “So this is the one who has stolen my daughter’s heart.”

Her tone was polite, almost warm. But something in her eyes burned deeper.

You reached out, palm damp, and shook her hand. Her grip was firm, lingering just long enough to make your chest tighten.

“An honour to meet you, Mrs Kiramman,” you said quickly.

Her lips curved, just slightly. “Please, Cassandra will do.”

The sound of her name in her own voice made your stomach flip. You forced yourself to let go of her hand, though your skin tingled where she’d touched it.

Caitlyn chatted with her mother, laughing about something trivial, but you barely heard. Your gaze kept drifting back, drawn like a moth to flame. The way Cassandra’s necklace rested against her collarbone, the way she tilted her glass when a servant offered wine, the way she listened with an intensity that made you feel small.

At one point, her eyes flicked to yours again across the room. Not long. Just a glance. But it was enough to make heat rush to your face.

You spent the rest of the evening trying to act normal, to be the charming partner Caitlyn clearly wanted her mother to approve of. But underneath every polite answer, every practiced smile, there was that pull.

The kind you’d never admit to Caitlyn.

The kind that left you lying awake that night replaying Cassandra’s voice, her eyes, her hand holding yours a moment too long.

PRESENT // NOW

You’d gone to Caitlyn’s townhouse, expecting the usual: tea steeping on the table, her coat neatly draped over a chair, books stacked in orderly towers around the sofa. But the moment you walked in, you knew something was off.

She wasn’t smiling.

“Darling,” Caitlyn began, voice soft, almost trembling. She gestured for you to sit, her long fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. “We…we need to talk.”

Your stomach dropped. You sat down anyway, trying to keep your hands still. “Cait? baby what’s wrong?”

Her blue eyes lifted to yours, filled with that careful, practiced gentleness she used on everyone. Only now, it was directed at you, and it made your throat tighten.

“It isn’t you,” she said quietly. “Truly, it isn’t. It’s me.”

The words landed like shards of glass.

You blinked, forcing a laugh. “You’re joking.”

But Caitlyn shook her head, lips pressed thin. “I’m not. I have to be honest with you..I need to focus on my studies, on university. You know how my path is. The expectations, the workload…it’s not something I can afford to split myself away from,” She reached for your hand, tentative, her thumb brushing your knuckles. “You deserve more than someone who will always have one eye on a textbook.”

The tears came fast, hot, unstoppable. “So what, Cait? You’re just, just leaving me behind? After everything?”

Her face twisted with guilt. “I wish I could be everything you need. But if I try to hold onto this, I’ll resent myself. and you.”

You shook your head furiously, tears dripping onto your lap. “You don’t get it, I don’t care about your damn textbooks, I care about you!” Your voice cracked embarrassingly. You wiped at your cheeks with the back of your sleeve, hiccupping through sobs. “I can wait, really i can. I can work with it, we- we can make it work, Cait!”

“Darling.” Her voice broke, but she still pulled her hand back. “Please don’t make this harder. I love what we had. But I can’t give you the future you deserve right now.”

That was it. The gentle blade slipped between your ribs and left you hollow.

You sobbed, shoulders shaking, covering your face with your palms. Caitlyn moved to sit beside you, wrapping an arm around your back, rocking you slightly as though that would soften the pain.

But the more she whispered reassurances— it’s not you, you’re wonderful, it’s just me— the more the words twisted into knives.

When you finally pulled away, your eyes were red, your nose raw from wiping it. You muttered something about needing to go, stumbling out into the night air with your chest still heaving.

The next few days blurred together. Tea went cold on your desk, assignments piled up untouched. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw Caitlyn’s face—the apology in her eyes, the way she said darling for the last time.

But as the weeks stretched, something strange happened. The grief shifted.

When your mind wandered, it didn’t always drift to Caitlyn. Not her smile, not her voice, not her blue eyes.

Instead, you found yourself replaying the memory of another evening entirely.

Cassandra’s voice, low and commanding, filling the marble halls.

Cassandra’s hand, warm around yours, lingering a second too long.

Cassandra’s eyes, sharp enough to strip you bare with a single glance.

Cassandra cassandra, everything about cassandra.

It was wrong. Gods, it was so so wrong. Caitlyn’s mother. Untouchable. Forbidden.

But when you lay in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, it wasn’t Caitlyn’s name that caught on your lips in the dark.

It was Cassandra’s.

You’d realised it the first night you cried yourself to sleep. Sobs had wracked your chest until exhaustion finally pulled you under, but even then, in those blurry fragments of dreams, it wasn’t Caitlyn’s hands you imagined soothing you. It wasn’t her lips brushing your temple.

It was her mother.

And once the thought dug its claws into you, you couldn’t shake it.

Weeks after the breakup, you still tossed restlessly in bed, sheets tangled around your legs, the room too quiet. The ache of loss should have left you hollow, but instead it burned low in your stomach, insistent, shameful.

You told yourself not to think about it. Not to think about her.

But the moment your eyes fluttered shut, she was there.

Cassandra, descending the marble staircase in that dark dress that clung to her waist. Cassandra, the way her eyes had lingered on you across the drawing room. Cassandra, voice like velvet wrapping around your name.

A low whimper slipped from your throat before you could bite it back. Your hand drifted under the covers almost on instinct, pressing against the heat blooming between your thighs.

It was pathetic— touching yourself while tears still streaked your cheeks. But gosh, you couldn’t stop.

You spread your legs, pushing your hand past the waistband of your sleep shorts, fingers brushing through the dampness already gathering there. The first press of your fingertips against your clit made your back arch off the mattress, a gasp escaping you.

“C–Cassandra…” you whispered into the dark.

The sound of her name from your own lips sent a guilty thrill straight through you.

Your other hand clutched the sheets, knuckles white, while the one between your legs began to circle faster. You imagined it wasn’t your own fingers— no, it was hers. Long, elegant fingers that had once curled around yours in greeting. What would they feel like sliding into you? Crooking just right? Commanding you with the same poise she commanded a room?

You pressed harder, hips jerking, your thighs trembling around your hand.

“Oh fuck! nngh,” The words broke into a whimper, muffled by the pillow you buried your face into.

Every thought of Caitlyn, every pang of grief, burned away under the flood of Cassandra. You saw her smirking faintly, saw her eyes narrowing as she pinned you in place, saw her pressing you down into the mattress as if she knew exactly how filthy your thoughts had been all along.

Your fingers slipped lower, gathering wetness, sliding down to push one inside yourself. The stretch made you gasp, but you wanted more. Needed more. Another finger followed, and you pumped them desperately, the lewd sound of your arousal filling the quiet room. squelch squelch squelch

“Please,” you whimpered into the pillow, not even sure what you were begging for. For her touch. For her voice. For her to find you like this, trembling and ruined in your bed.

The coil in your stomach snapped all at once. You came hard, thighs clenching around your hand, body shuddering as your orgasm ripped through you. The cry of her name tore out of you, muffled but unmistakable—

“Cassandra!”

You collapsed against the sheets, panting, fingers still buried inside yourself. Sweat slicked your skin, your pulse thundered in your ears. The shame crashed in immediately, heavy and suffocating.

What the hell had you just done?

You curled onto your side, pulling the covers tight around you as if they could hide the truth. As if they could erase the way your body still ached for her.

But you knew the truth now. The worst of it.

You hadn’t just been thinking of Cassandra.

You wanted her.

THE NEXT DAY

The library was supposed to be safe.

You’d gone there with every intention of focusing, stack of notes under your arm, pen tucked behind your ear. It was quiet, the kind of quiet that should have let you bury yourself in textbooks until your brain stopped buzzing.

But it didn’t.

Because every time your mind drifted, it went back to her.

Cassandra.

The night before had been the worst — or the best, depending on how you looked at it. You’d come undone in your own bed, sweating and whimpering her name into your pillow, fingers buried inside yourself until you’d collapsed in shame. The memory of it clung to you now like smoke, impossible to shake.

You chewed at your pen cap, trying to concentrate on the lines of text in front of you. But then —

“Excuse me.”

That voice. Smooth, low, commanding.

Your whole body went rigid. Slowly, like you were afraid to confirm it, you lifted your head.

And there she was.

Cassandra Kiramman, standing only a few feet away in the hushed aisle of the library, a folder of papers tucked under one arm. She looked devastatingly composed, as always — her dark coat tailored to perfection, a silk scarf at her throat, hair swept back with the faintest glint of silver catching the light from the tall windows.

Your mouth went dry.

She smiled, polite and faint, as if nothing was unusual about running into her here. “You’re Caitlyn’s…” she hesitated, then softened her tone, “…former partner, aren’t you?”

The word former cut sharper than you expected.

You scrambled to sit straighter, tucking a loose paper into your notebook to look less like a wreck. “Y-yes. I…I didn’t expect to see you here, Mrs. Kiramman—”

Her head tilted, eyes narrowing just slightly. “Cassandra,” she corrected smoothly.

Gods. Hearing it again made your chest ache.

You nodded quickly, unable to stop your gaze from flicking down — and catching on the gleam of her wedding ring. Thick, gold, deliberate. Tobias’s.

The sight hit you like a slap.

The shame of last night — of panting her name while pumping your fingers into yourself — came roaring back. Your skin flushed hot, embarrassment prickling over every inch. She was married. Untouchable. And you were disgusting for even thinking otherwise.

“um..I should get back to studying.” You pushed your chair back, ready to flee before you humiliated yourself any further.

But Cassandra stepped forward.

Not retreating. Closing the distance.

Her heels clicked softly against the wood floor, echoing in the quiet aisles, until she stood beside your table. You could smell her perfume now — subtle, expensive, a clean mix of cedar and something floral. It made your pulse race.

“Don’t let me interrupt,” she said, but her eyes stayed fixed on you, sharp enough to pin you in place. She slid one of her papers onto the table, pretending to glance at it, though you could feel the weight of her attention still pressing into you.

You swallowed hard, staring down at your notes like they could save you. Words swam uselessly across the page. Your fingers twitched, remembering how they’d been buried inside yourself last night, remembering how you’d moaned her name into the dark.

Your legs squeezed together under the table.

Cassandra leaned in slightly, one hand braced against the back of the chair next to you. Too close. Her voice dropped, low enough for only you to hear.

“You look flushed,” she murmured. “Are you well?”

Your heart leapt into your throat. You nodded too quickly, too stiffly. “F-fine! Just… studying.”

She hummed softly, a sound that felt like it rolled through your bones. Her gaze flicked down, catching the way you gripped your pen so tightly your knuckles whitened. Then she looked back at you, and there was something in her eyes now — something sharper than polite curiosity.

It lingered.

Daring. Testing.

And you couldn’t look away.

The longer she stood there, leaning just slightly against the chair beside you, the harder it became to breathe.

You kept your eyes on your notes, but the words had dissolved into meaningless scribbles. Your pen tapped against the margin, betraying your nerves.

She noticed, of course. She noticed everything.

“Darling,” Cassandra murmured, the word sliding off her tongue like silk. “You’ll wear a hole through the page if you keep tapping like that.”

You froze, pen stilling instantly. Heat flooded your face. The way she’d said it, darling ,casual, maybe, but devastating.

Your throat went dry. “S-sorry.”

Her lips curved. “No need to apologise.”

The shame burned hotter. Your gaze darted again to her left hand, to the glinting gold of Tobias’s ring. But gosh the way she reached across the table, smoothing out one of her papers… okay pause, does she like it gentle? STOP.

You pushed your chair back, desperate to escape before your thoughts betrayed you. “I should really get going—”

A sound interrupted you.

Tap… tap… tap.

Rain.

You turned toward the window and felt your heart sink. The sky had opened, sheets of water hammering against the glass, turning the streets below into rivers. People outside scrambled under awnings, coats soaked through in seconds.

Cassandra followed your gaze, then clicked her tongue softly. “What dreadful timing.”

Before you could even suggest waiting it out, she straightened, smoothing her scarf. “You’ll catch your death walking in that storm.” She looked back at you, her eyes softening just enough to make your pulse trip. “Come, sweetie. I’ll drive you home.”

Your heart stuttered. Sweetie.

“I couldn’t ask you—”

“Nonsense.” Her accent cut through your protest, crisp and precise, the kind of tone that ended debates before they began. “It’s hardly any trouble. Besides, I’d rather not leave you to drown on Piltover’s sidewalks.”

You swallowed hard, clutching your notebook to your chest like a shield. Every sensible voice in your head screamed no. This was Caitlyn’s mother! Married. Untouchable.

But Cassandra was already gathering her things with graceful efficiency, then extending her hand toward you — not quite touching, but offering and commanding.

“Come along,” she said gently, but firmly, like you’d be a fool to refuse. “We’ll have tea while the rain eases.”

Tea.

Your stomach flipped violently, remembering the taste of her name on your tongue last night, the way you’d whispered it into your sheets as you came undone. And now she was offering tea. Inviting you into her world again.

Your hand shook as you slid it into hers. Warm. Strong. The same touch that had lingered in your fantasies, now pulling you to your feet.

“Good girl,” she murmured under her breath, almost too quiet to catch. Almost.

And ohhhh, you folded.

The ride to the Kiramman estate was a blur. Rain hammered against the windows, cloaking the city in streaks of silver, but all you could focus on was the scent of Cassandra’s perfume filling the car. It clung to the leather seats, to the air itself. She drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting lightly on the gearshift, her wedding ring catching flashes of streetlight. Every time her fingers flexed, your stomach twisted.

By the time you pulled through the iron gates, you felt wrung out — half from the storm outside, half from the storm inside your chest.

The mansion loomed again, familiar yet daunting. Cassandra led the way up the steps, her heels clicking softly, and you trailed behind like a guilty shadow.

“Don’t look so tense, sweetie,” she said as she unlocked the door, her accent wrapping around the word. She glanced over her shoulder, eyes sharp enough to see right through you. “Caitlyn’s away at university. You won’t be running into her here.”

The reassurance should have calmed you. Instead, it made your heart race faster.

Inside, the house was warm, golden light spilling across polished floors. Cassandra handed you a towel with her usual elegance, then gestured toward the sitting room. “Go on. I’ll bring tea.”

You sank into the same velvet sofa you’d sat on months ago when Caitlyn first introduced you. The memory hit like a stone to the chest — Caitlyn laughing, her hand brushing yours, so proud to present you to her mother. And now…now you were sitting here alone, pulse racing for all the wrong reasons.

Cassandra returned with a tray, the porcelain clinking softly as she set it down. The steam curled up, fragrant and soothing. She poured with steady hands, offering you a cup.

“There we are,” she murmured. “Something to take the chill away.”

Your fingers brushed as you took it. Just a graze. Barely anything. But it sent a shiver darting down your spine.

Cassandra sat beside you, not close, not indecent, but close enough that the space between your knees felt dangerous. She crossed one leg over the other, fabric of her dress whispering, her heel dangling lazily. Her posture was perfect, as always, but the weight of her gaze was impossible to ignore.

“So,” she began, voice calm, conversational. “How have you been… since Caitlyn?”

The tea turned bitter on your tongue. “…I’ve been managing,” you said carefully, though your voice cracked.

Cassandra’s head tilted, studying you. “She told me it was her choice. That she needed to focus on her studies.” A pause. “But it can’t have been easy for you.”

You looked down at your cup, knuckles tightening around the delicate handle. “It wasn’t.”

Her hand rested lightly on the back of the sofa, just behind your shoulder. Not touching, but near enough that you could feel the heat of it. “I’m sorry, sweetie. My daughter has always been devoted to her duties. Sometimes…to a fault.”

Your throat tightened. Something about the way she said my daughter made guilt slam into you all over again. And yet— your thighs pressed together under the table, your body betraying you with a slow, aching pulse of heat.

You dared a glance up.

Cassandra was already watching you. Her expression was calm, kind even, but her eyes lingered too long, too deliberately. You remembered the way she’d said good girl in the library, almost under her breath. You remembered her hand around yours that first night, warm and firm. You remembered your own voice, desperate and shaking, moaning her name in the dark.

You shifted on the sofa, nearly spilling your tea.

Cassandra’s lips curved faintly. “You seem restless.”

Your heart leapt to your throat. “n-no, I’m fine.”

“Mm.” She set her cup down with perfect poise, then leaned back, stretching one arm along the sofa’s edge behind you. Casual. Natural. Except it left you caged against the velvet, her presence surrounding you, her scent filling your lungs.

“You don’t have to pretend with me,” she said softly. Her voice carried the weight of command, but the gentleness of a lullaby. “You’re allowed to be upset. Allowed to feel.”

Your breath hitched.

The room was too warm. Her hand was too close. And when you finally looked at her, really looked — at the sharp line of her jaw, the curve of her mouth, the steady burn of her gaze — you knew there was no pretending left in you at all.

Your tea cup rattled faintly in its saucer as you set it down, hands trembling.

“I…” The words stuck, caught in the knot of heat and shame tightening your chest. “I don’t think I should be here.”

Cassandra’s brows arched delicately. “And why not, sweetie?”

Your lips parted, but nothing came out. Because the real reason — the memory of her name spilling from your lips last night while your fingers worked desperately between your thighs — was too filthy to confess.

She didn’t let you answer. Instead, Cassandra leaned closer, her arm brushing the back of your shoulders as if she were only shifting to get comfortable. But it was deliberate, everything about her was deliberate. Her voice dipped lower, rich and velvety.

“You’re flushed again.”

You stiffened. “It’s just…hot in here.”

Her lips curved. “Is that so?”

Her hand, the one draped along the sofa’s edge, slid just a fraction lower, close enough that the tips of her fingers brushed against your shoulder. Barely a touch, but it burned straight through the fabric of your shirt.

You jerked slightly, heart hammering. “Cassandra, I—”

The sound of her name on your tongue made her eyes sharpen, her smile curve darker.

“What is it, darling?” she murmured.

You broke.

All the shame, all the nights you’d spent replaying her voice in your head, all the guilt of wanting what you shouldn’t — it all spilled out at once. Your breath came shaky, your chest heaving as you blurted, “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

The words hung in the air, heavy, irreversible.

For a moment, Cassandra was still. Silent. Her gaze searched yours, calculating, weighing. Then, slowly, she shifted — closing the space between you inch by inch, until her knee brushed yours and her perfume wrapped around you like smoke.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” she whispered. But her hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face up toward hers. Her thumb stroked lightly against your cheek, catching the heat of your blush. “Not unless you mean them.”

“I..” Your voice cracked, pathetic, desperate. “I do.”

Her eyes darkened

and then her mouth was on yours.

The kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t testing. It was consuming. Her lips pressed firm, commanding, and all the air rushed from your lungs in a shudder. You gasped into her, clutching at the sofa cushions as her thumb stroked along your jaw, holding you exactly where she wanted you.

A whimper escaped you — high, needy and humiliating.

She pulled back just enough to watch your reaction, her lips still brushing yours. “So sensitive,” she murmured. “so eager.”

Your cheeks burned. “I’m sorry!”

Her hand slid lower, fingers curling lightly around your throat. Not squeezing, not yet, but the weight of it made your knees press tighter together.

“Don’t apologise,” Cassandra said softly, her British lilt wrapping the words like velvet steel. “Not when you sound so pretty begging for me without even realising it.”

You trembled under her touch, torn between shame and desperate need. Every inch of you was hot, burning, your core aching in time with your pulse.

“Tell me,” she said, tilting your chin higher, her eyes gleaming with amusement and hunger. “When did you first think of me like this?”

Your lips parted, but no words came.

Her smile turned sharper. “Was it when we shook hands, darling? When I held you just a second too long?” Her thumb brushed across your lower lip, dragging it down. “Or was it later? Alone in your bed?”

You froze, mortified.

She saw it instantly. The way your breath hitched, your eyes widened, the shame flooding your face.

“Oh,” Cassandra whispered, delight curling in her tone. “So that’s it.” She leaned in until her lips brushed your ear, her breath hot against your skin. “You touched yourself, didn’t you? Thinking of me.”

A strangled whimper broke from your throat.

Cassandra chuckled, low and dangerous, her hand sliding from your jaw down to rest at your collarbone, fingers trailing dangerously close to the neckline of your shirt. “How obscene,” she murmured. “My daughter’s ex lover, writhing in their sheets, moaning my name.”

You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. Your thighs pressed together helplessly, your body betraying you completely.

She leaned back just enough to meet your eyes again, her thumb stroking once more across your trembling lower lip. “Show me,” she said, voice a purr. “show me how you thought of me.”

You swallowed hard. “C–Cassandra, I don’t…”

Her smile was soft, but dangerous. “Hush, sweetie.” She brushed her thumb over your lips again, her accent wrapping the words like silk. “You’re trembling. Do you know how lovely you look when you’re flustered?”

Your stomach flipped. Your thighs clenched tighter.

And then she pulled back, sudden and composed, as though she’d never touched you at all. She stood, smoothed the skirt of her dress, and tilted her head toward the window.

“Oh dear. It’s absolutely pouring,” she said lightly, like she hadn’t just had her hand on your throat. She turned to you, voice lilting. “I can’t possibly send you home in this, darling. You’ll have to stay.”

You blinked, words fumbling. “I don’t want to intrude—”

“Don’t be silly.” Cassandra’s smile softened into something almost maternal, though the gleam in her eye gave her away. “Come. Let me bring you upstairs, get you something dry.”

You followed her on weak legs, your heart pounding, knowing exactly what you were walking into and too weak to turn back.

Her bedroom smelled like her perfume, warm spice and faint floral, heady in the air. She shut the door softly behind you, the click of the latch far too final.

“You’re drenched through,” she murmured, reaching up to toy with the edge of your shirt. Her fingers brushed your damp skin, sending a shiver through you. “Take this off.”

Your breath caught. “W-what?”

“Sweetheart,” she purred, “I asked nicely.”

Your hands shook as you peeled your shirt over your head, leaving you in nothing but your bra. Cassandra’s eyes swept over you, slow and deliberate, before she smiled like a predator.

“Pretty little thing,” she murmured. “No wonder Caitlyn was so taken with you.”

The mention of her daughter made your chest clench with shame, but Cassandra’s hand was already at your jaw again, tilting your face up to hers.

“Don’t pout,” she whispered. “It doesn’t suit you.”

Her lips crashed against yours.

This time you didn’t resist — couldn’t. You melted into her, whimpering as her tongue slid against yours, her hand tightening at the back of your neck to hold you exactly where she wanted you.

Her other hand trailed downward, over your collarbone, over your stomach, pausing just at the waistband of your jeans. She smirked against your mouth when your hips jolted forward, begging for more.

“Eager girl,” she murmured. “Go on, take them off.”

You scrambled to obey, clumsy and desperate, tugging your jeans and underwear down until you stood bare in front of her. Your face burned, but Cassandra looked utterly composed, like she was surveying something she already owned.

“Lovely,” she whispered, stepping closer until her body brushed yours. Her fingers slid down your stomach, lower, until she found the wet heat between your thighs.

You gasped, clutching at her shoulders as her fingers stroked lazily through your folds. “C–Cassandra!”

“Yes, darling?” she teased, eyes sharp. “Does this feel familiar? Like when you thought of me last night?”

Your knees nearly buckled.

She chuckled, sliding one finger inside you without warning. You cried out, muffling the sound against her shoulder as your body clamped down around her.

“Greedy little thing,” she purred. “So tight for me. Did you imagine this? My fingers filling you?”

You nodded desperately, tears stinging your eyes from the overwhelming stretch. “Y-yes, oh my mmh,”

She rewarded you with another finger, pumping them slowly, deliberately, dragging her thumb up to circle your clit.

The sound of your slick echoed obscenely in the quiet room. You writhed against her, panting, helpless.

Cassandra leaned down, lips brushing your ear. “Say my name,” she whispered.

“C–Cassandra! ”

“Mmm, that’s it.” Her pace quickened, fingers curling to hit a spot inside you that made your vision blur. “So filthy, crying my name in my bed while my husband’s ring is still on my finger.”

The shame made it worse — hotter, sharper. Your body buckled, grinding down against her hand, chasing release.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” she taunted, her voice silk-wrapped steel. “Go on, darling. Come for me. Show me how pathetic you are for your ex lover’s mother.”

The words ripped you apart. You came with a sob, thighs shaking, clenching helplessly around her fingers as she fucked you through it, drawing it out until you collapsed against her chest.

Cassandra smirked, kissing the top of your head as her fingers finally slid free, wet and glistening. She raised them to her lips, sucking them clean with a slow, obscene hum.

“Delicious,” she purred.

Your face burned, still trembling, barely able to breathe.

And she was already smiling down at you like a cat with a mouse between her claws.

She sat at the edge, smoothing her dress back into place as if she hadn’t just made you come apart on her hand. Her dark eyes roved over you, sharp and knowing.

“Look at you,” she murmured. “Wrecked already. And yet…” She leaned in close, brushing her nose against yours. “you want more, don’t you?”

Your breath caught. Shame burned through you, but the ache between your thighs throbbed harder. You nodded quickly, words tumbling out:

“P–please, Cassandra. I… I want more.”

Her lips curved into that smug little smile. “What is it you want, darling?”

The words stuck in your throat. You squeezed your eyes shut, humiliated, before whispering,

“I want…to taste you.”

Cassandra stilled, then chuckled low, wicked. “Oh, sweetheart.” Her hand cupped your cheek, forcing you to look at her. “You want me to sit on your face?”

Your whole body flushed hot. “Y-yes,”

She laughed softly, delighted. “My, my. So polite. So eager.” Her fingers traced your lips, pressing down lightly. “But I could tell from your kiss earlier…your pretty mouth is inexperienced. Tell me, darling.” Her eyes glittered. “Did my daughter not teach you how to serve a woman properly?”

The shame hit you like a knife, but Cassandra’s tone made your stomach twist with heat. You shook your head, voice barely a whisper. “no…”

“Awh,” she crooned, mock-pity curling in her accent. “My poor darling. Neglected. No wonder you’re so hungry for me.”

She stood then, graceful, and unzipped her dress. It slid from her shoulders, pooling at her feet, leaving her in nothing but a silk slip that clung to her curves. She climbed onto the bed with a feline ease, straddling your chest, her weight warm and commanding.

Her slip rode up as she lifted one thigh over your head, positioning herself above your mouth. She smirked down at you, fingers sliding into your hair.

“Open wide, sweet girl,” she purred.

You obeyed instantly, your lips parting. Cassandra lowered herself until the heat of her cunt brushed your mouth, slick and intoxicating.

“Lick.”

Your tongue flicked against her hesitantly, timid and unsure.

She sighed, amused. “Mmm. Sloppy. You’re not serving me, darling, you’re teasing. Flatten your tongue. That’s it, broader.”

You did as she instructed, pressing your tongue up firmly, dragging it through her folds. Her hips rolled slightly against your mouth, a soft moan slipping from her lips.

“Better,” she praised, though her voice trembled faintly with pleasure. “Now, focus. Circle my clit. Yes yeesss… just like that.”

You whimpered against her, the taste of her overwhelming, your jaw already aching. She tugged your hair, grinding down a little harder.

“Don’t be shy. Use that pretty mouth. Drink me in.”

Your tongue circled faster, desperation fueling you. Cassandra’s moans grew richer, spilling from her throat, her accent thickening as she lost composure.

“Ohhh, darling, yes! that’s it.” Her hips rocked against you now, more insistent. “My little student, learning so well,”

Your heart clenched, but her words only made you more frantic, eager to please her. You sucked gently at her clit, and Cassandra cried out, her thighs trembling around your face.

“Ahhh, clever girl. That’s it. Suck me properly. Yes, yes just like that-”

Her body shuddered above you, her grip in your hair tightening painfully as she came, grinding down hard against your mouth. Her moan was long, sharp, guttural, utterly devastating.

When she finally collapsed back against the headboard, panting, her thighs slid from your face. She looked down at you with a wrecked, satisfied grin, brushing your messy hair back from your forehead.

“Well,” she purred breathlessly. “I think we’ve found your talent.”

Your lungs still hadn’t fully caught up when Cassandra finally slipped off you, gathering you into her arms like you weighed nothing. She kissed your temple, lazy and warm, and pulled a blanket over both of you.

“There now,” she murmured in that velvety accent, stroking your hair back. “My clever girl. Did so well for me.”

Your face burned, but nestled into her chest, you melted at the quiet affection in her voice. Cassandra smelt faintly of her perfume, roses and smoke, grounding you in the haze of what had just happened.

She guided a glass of water to your lips, coaxing you to drink, then kissed away the drops that spilled. Her touch was surprisingly gentle, even tender — rubbing slow circles into your back, humming softly as if she’d done this a hundred times before.

You drifted like that, cocooned in her sheets, her arms, her scent.

Somewhere between the warmth of her body and the steady thrum of her heartbeat beneath your cheek, you must’ve dozed.

When you stirred again, the room was dim with the late afternoon light. Cassandra was sprawled elegantly beside you, silk robe loosely tied, watching you with that knowing little smile.

“Back with me, sweetheart?” she teased, brushing your cheek. “You looked angelic, sleeping in my bed.”

Heat crawled up your neck. You mumbled something about needing to go, fumbling to slip into your clothes. Cassandra just smirked, leaning on one elbow to watch, unbothered.

“Don’t rush,” she purred. “But if you must… at least drink some tea before you go.”

You tugged your jacket on, your legs still unsteady, and finally made your way down her quiet hall. Cassandra’s home was too perfect, too intimate now, and your heart beat wildly at the thought of what you’d just done.

The front door clicked shut behind you. Cool air hit your flushed skin.

And then—

Your stomach plummeted.

Because standing right there at the edge of the walkway, phone in hand, was her.

Caitlyn.

Her dark hair caught the evening light, her brows furrowed as she glanced up at you.

Your ex.

The person whose mother you’d just spent the night with.

“what the fuck?!”