emma ♡

As the last party-goers stumbled out of her house, Amber guided Tara upstairs, tugging at her hand, leaving their friends downstairs. Tara struggled, barely keeping up, with both her crutches clutched under one arm. "Don't worry, I'm pretty sure it's on top of my desk," Amber said, trying to remember the exact location of the inhaler Tara came here for.

Tara looked back at Sam, who was frowning at the sight of them. She tapped her watch while sternly looking Tara in the eye, signaling her to hurry. She had a bad feeling in her gut, like shit was about to go down, so she wanted to get out of here and back on the road as soon as possible.

Sam sighed, knowing they were gonna take their time anyway. She wasn't blind. She saw they had something going on. The lingering touches, the charged stares, and... Her mind traveled back to a few days prior, when she had visited Tara in the hospital. Maybe she had been better off blind.

---

As the elevator door to Tara's private floor opened, she heard whiny grunts coming from her sister's hospital room. Sam's heart dropped. She rushed to open the door, mind obviously jumping to the worst-case scenario. With wide, adrenaline-filled eyes, her gaze fell on Tara. Her eyes went impossibly wider as she saw Amber, pulling her hand from under Tara's hospital gown, fingers sticky. Tara was red as can be, surely a mix of embarrassment and the previous actions she was enduring. Amber, of course, just had that signature smirk on her face, shamelessly, no, challengingly staring at Sam. The older sister had mumbled something about them being unbelievable as she closed the door again, waiting in the hallway for Amber to leave. Tara had sworn they weren't dating, but that fact only made Sam more disturbed.

---

As the duo reached the top of the stairs, Tara simply shot Sam a soft smile and a thumbs up, though, she didn't look worry-free, either. See, deep down, Tara knows Amber's secret. But everytime she tries to gather her thoughts and actually try to confirm it, she feels ridiculous. Honestly, her head cannot wrap around any of her friends having the ability to murder people in cold blood.

Though, on those addictive nights, when the both of them are alone, with Amber knuckle deep inside Tara, she sees it. Even through hooded, pleasure-blurred eyes, she still sees it. The teeth-shattering clenching of her jaw. The horrifyingly psychotic grin on her lips. The narrowing of her cold eyes, as she studies every muscle in Tara's face, taking in the sight of her edging on the border of pleasure and pain. Amber is psychotic. Yet Tara can't help coming back for more. Amber's got her wrapped around her finger. Around multiple, on a lucky night.

Tara snaps out of her thoughts at the sound of the bedroom door closing. Amber's hand slips out of hers. "So," she starts, walking towards her desk, fetching the inhaler. She holds the device between her pointer finger and thumb, toying with it, wiggling it from side to side. "Were you really in need of this?" She steps closer to Tara, who is still standing in front of the closed door. "Or did you just need an excuse to... see me once more?" She smirked as she stood right in front of the smaller girl, looking down at her.

Tara felt the squeeze of her lungs, begging to be pried open again. She also felt the increasing dampness of her underwear, clinging to her skin. "Both," she muttered out, looking up at Amber's piercing eyes with her own, desperate, doe-like ones.

Amber hummed at the pretty sight, leaning in closer, hovering over Tara's lips after she licked her own. "Open up, baby," she spoke suggestively. Fully aware of Amber's habit of spitting in her mouth, Tara complied almost immediately, sticking out her tongue slightly. It was one of those more lewd things Amber introduced her to, and she eventually grew to love, now even more than Amber did, arguably so.

Amber scoffed and shook her head softly, smirking down at the younger girl. She looked down at her hand holding the inhaler as she brought it up to Tara's lips. She sighed, teasingly. "Always such an eager slut."

Tara blushed furiously at her slip-up and rolled her eyes at Amber's misleading games, but finding the humor in it nonetheless. She quickly wrapped her lips around her inhaler, looking back in Amber's eyes. The medication filled her lungs, and she let out a satisfied sigh. She felt the heat slowly move away from her cheeks. It traveled down to her core instead when Amber muttered out a soft, yet possessive praise, tucking the inhaler in the latina's back pocket, not missing the chance of giving her ass a good squeeze.

Tara couldn't stop the little whine that escaped her lips. Her body was extra sensitive, still on-edge from the brutal attack she endured a few days ago. She wasn't sure if it was pleasure or pain she felt. Then again, with Amber, she never really knew.

Amber's hand traced the line of Tara’s jaw, fingers cold and firm, forcing Tara out of her own head again. The smaller girl's big, brown eyes looked up at Amber, who's smirk deepened, as she leaned in, her breath ghosting over Tara's mouth before she closed the distance. Their kiss was slow, almost teasing. Amber’s lips were soft, a stark contrast to the sharp edge of her demeanor, but her kiss held that same power, her dominance. It made Tara's knees buckle, her crutches dropping to the floor as she vulnerably steadied herself in Amber's arms, reaching up to hold her face.

Amber bent through her knees slightly, gripping at Tara's thighs, picking her up. Tara whimpered, feeling her body's injuries burn and ache as Amber's grip pulled at her skin. The pain slightly ebbed away when Amber's back met with her mattress and Tara now straddled one of her thighs. She immediately ground down, rutting her hips eagerly, sitting upright. She had one hand grabbing Amber's shirt, and the other against her mouth, biting at her nail. Finally, she had an opportunity to release some of the ever-growing tension for Amber between her thighs.

Amber loved the sight of the girl on top of her. She looked desperate and sensitive and vulnerable with her eyes rolling back into her skull. Her little, whiny, pained huffs were the cherry on top. Amber could feel the yearning between Tara's legs radiate through the multiple layers of clothing between them. It only riled her up more, angling her thigh perfectly for Tara to grind against. Her ears feasted on the pitchy, broken moans rolling off her lips. They reminded her of the ones Tara released a few nights prior, after Amber had slid the knife into her stomach for the first time, and she desperately tried to crawl away on her kitchen floor.

At that memory, Amber lifted up Tara's shirt, biting her lip at the sight of the stitches on her stomach, and the soft abs rippling underneath them as the latina continuously rutted her hips against Amber's thigh. She traced the forming scar tissue with her fingertip, admiring her work.

Tara frowned at the feeling, snapping out of her blissful state. Suddenly, the gut-wrenching reality of the situation dawned on her again. Killer on the loose. Friends dying. Organs ripping. Blood pooling. Stitches pulling. Grinding on her number one suspect's thigh.

She halted her movements, her eyes opening, immediately darting to that familiar, psychotic smirk aimed at her.