Chapter 18: For you natty you sister
Wanda was going to make sure of it.
Her tongue became a relentless, precise instrument, and Yelena’s body seized, a taut bowstring snapping. The orgasm tore through her with a silent, breathless scream before sound followed, a raw, echoing cry that seemed to startle even her. She trembled violently, every muscle clenching and releasing under Wanda’s steadfast mouth.
Wanda gentled her then, soothing licks calming the aftershocks that juddered through Yelena’s hips. She kissed her inner thigh, a soft contrast to the previous intensity. Only then did she look up, her gaze finding Natasha across the room.
Natasha’s hand was still between her own legs, frozen mid-motion. Her chest was heaving. Wanda held her stare, a silent question hanging in the jasmine-scented air.
“That was one,” Wanda said, her voice husky but clear.
She shifted on the bed, moving up Yelena’s body. Her fingers, slick and confident, replaced her mouth. She entered Yelena with two fingers, a smooth, deep glide that made Yelena gasp again, her oversensitive body arching.
“Look at me, Natalia,” Wanda commanded, her pace already establishing a slow, torturous rhythm. Her eyes never left Natasha’s face.
Natasha obeyed, her vision slightly blurred. Watching Wanda’s hand move, seeing the faint curl of her fingers inside her sister, was almost too much. A soft whimper escaped her.
“Good girl,” Wanda breathed, and the praise ignited a fresh fire in Natasha’s veins. “Now look at your sister. See what we give you.”
Wanda’s wrist began to piston, her movements accelerating from deep strokes to a devastating, corkscrewing rhythm. Yelena’s head thrashed on the pillows. Her eyes, wide and dazed, found Natasha’s.
The connection was electric, a live wire strung between the bed and the couch. Yelena’s lips parted. “Natasha,” she choked out, the name a plea and an offering.
“If this… if this is what you want,” Yelena stammered, her voice breaking as Wanda’s thumb pressed hard against her. “Right… this is for you, big sis.”
The admission shattered Natasha’s last restraint. Her own climax rushed up, sudden and overwhelming, pulling a strangled moan from her throat. She shook, her knuckles white where she gripped the couch.
On the bed, Yelena followed. Her second peak was less a wave and more a continuous, wrenching convulsion, her body bowing up into Wanda’s hand. A broken stream of Russian curses and Natasha’s name filled the room.
Wanda watched them both, a faint, satisfied smile on her swollen lips. She slowly stilled her hand, letting Yelena ride out the final pulses. The room descended into a heavy silence, broken only by ragged breathing.
Wanda withdrew her fingers. She brought them to her own mouth, tasting Yelena with a thoughtful expression, her eyes still locked on Natasha.
“Come here, my love,” she said softly to Natasha. “Come claim your kiss.”
Natasha stumbled from the couch, her legs unsteady. She crossed the room, drawn by Wanda’s gaze. She knelt on the edge of the bed, and Wanda met her halfway.
The kiss was deep, possessive, and tasted profoundly of Yelena. Natasha melted into it, a low hum of submission in her throat. When they parted, Wanda cradled her face.
“My perfect girl,” Wanda murmured, wiping a smudge of mascara from under Natasha’s eye. “You watched so beautifully.”
“ please more,” Natasha her voice full of wanting
Wanda stretched, a languid, powerful movement. She looked between them, the energy in the room shifting, cooling into something intimate and soft. “You’re both mine right now,” she stated, no question in her tone. “And I am not nearly finished.”