Chapter 19: CC's thighs squeeze together at the memory as Ace leans in close, her warm breath ghosting over CC's neck. 'Still sore, baby?' she murmurs, her hand sliding under the table to palm CC's inner thigh, making her whimper. Lee throws his hands up. 'I'm getting more fucking coffee.'
The stale dorm air still clung to Ace’s skin, a humid mix of sweat, sex, and the fading vanilla scent of CC’s lotion. She watched CC move gingerly around the cluttered room, winced when she bent to pick up discarded clothing. Every slight movement seemed to telegraph the ferocity of the morning. Ace felt a familiar coil of possessiveness tighten in her gut, mixed with a dazed satisfaction. She’d marked her. Claimed her in a way that felt primal, irreversible.
"Fuck, Ace," CC breathed, pulling a soft, oversized sweater over her head. It did little to hide the constellation of darkening bruises blooming along her collarbone and down her shoulder. "I feel like I got hit by a bus. A really... enthusiastic bus." She tried a small smile, but it faltered as she shifted her weight.
Ace pushed off the bed, the movement loose-limbed, predatory. She closed the distance, her taller frame shadowing CC. Her fingertips, rough from soccer and bike grease, traced the distinct half-moon indentation of her own teeth high on CC’s neck, right below her ear. A fresh hickey pulsed purple beneath it. "Looks it," Ace murmured, her voice low, a rumble that vibrated in her own chest. "Sore?"
CC shivered, leaning back slightly into the touch. Her green eyes were wide, pupils still a little blown. "Everywhere. Especially... inside." The admission was a whisper, laced with something that wasn’t quite pain. "But... good sore. Mostly." She tilted her head, granting Ace better access. "Lee texted. Wants to meet for coffee at 'The Grind'. Think I can walk?"
Ace smirked, letting her thumb stroke the sensitive skin. "We'll get you there, princess." The nickname, usually teasing, felt weighted now. Acknowledged.
The campus coffee shop was a wall of noise and scent hitting them as Ace shouldered the door open. Chatter, the hiss of steam wands, the rich, bitter aroma of roasted beans. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, catching dust motes dancing in the air. Ace scanned the packed space, her hand settling possessively on the small of CC’s back, guiding her carefully. She felt the slight hitch in CC’s step with each movement, the subtle stiffness.
Lee spotted them first from a corner table, his expressive face already shifting from casual greeting to wide-eyed shock as they neared. He half-rose from his chair, his caramel macchiato forgotten.
"Holy fuckballs, CC!" Lee hissed, his voice dropping low but sharp enough to cut through the ambient noise. He stared, unabashedly, at the mottled bruises visible above her sweater’s neckline, the way she moved with careful deliberation. "Jesus H. Christ on a cracker, did she fuck you with a baseball bat? Or did you two wrestle a bear?" His gaze flickered between CC’s wince as she lowered herself onto the hard wooden chair and Ace, who leaned against the wall beside the table, arms folded, radiating an infuriating aura of smug satisfaction.
CC flushed crimson, the color spreading from her neck to her hairline. She ducked her head, fiddling with her napkin. "Lee! Shut up," she mumbled, but there was no real heat in it, just profound embarrassment tinged with something else.
Ace didn’t say a word. She just pushed off the wall, stepped closer to CC, and deliberately reached out. Her long fingers, cool from holding her iced coffee, brushed aside the loose strands of blonde hair falling near CC’s ear. Slowly, deliberately, she traced the outline of the large, livid hickey she’d sucked into the delicate skin behind CC’s earlobe earlier that morning. It was a silent, blatant display. Mine.
Lee’s jaw actually dropped. He slowly sank back into his chair, eyes wide as saucers, darting between Ace’s possessive touch and CC’s flushed, downcast face. CC didn’t pull away. She leaned infinitesimally into Ace’s touch, a tremor running through her. The air crackled, thick with unsaid things.
"Well," Lee finally breathed, picking up his latte with slightly unsteady hands, trying to regain composure. "Okay then. That’s... new. And... graphic." He took a long sip, his eyes never leaving them. "So, are we... dating now? Or is this still... research?" He asked, aiming for his usual light tone but landing somewhere near strained curiosity.
CC’s head snapped up. "Lee!" Her flush deepened. Ace just watched, her thumb still making slow circles on that sensitive patch of skin behind CC’s ear. She felt CC’s pulse jump under her fingertips.
"It’s... complicated," CC stammered, finally finding her voice, though it was barely a whisper. She reached up and gently caught Ace’s wrist, not pushing it away, just holding it. Grounding it. Grounding herself.
Ace finally withdrew her hand, sliding into the chair next to CC. Her knee pressed firmly against CC’s thigh under the small table. "Complicated’s one word for it," Ace drawled, meeting Lee’s incredulous stare head-on. She took a long pull from her iced coffee, the cold a shock against the heat coiling low in her belly. The memory of CC screaming, begging, milking the thick silicone was fresh, visceral. She could still smell her. Taste her.
Lee leaned forward, lowering his voice even further. "Look, CC, honey, no judgement, okay? You know me. But my eyes work. And sweetie, you’re limping. And decorated like a punk rock album cover. Is this... is this what you want?" His gaze was direct, concerned, cutting through the awkwardness. "Seriously?"
CC looked down at her hands, knuckles white where they clutched her own untouched tea. The coffee shop noise seemed to fade. Ace watched her, the smugness replaced by a sudden, sharp tension. This was it. The moment where the bubble popped. Where CC, confronted by the undeniable physical evidence in broad daylight, might panic. Might retreat.
CC took a shaky breath. She lifted her chin. Her green eyes, when they met Lee’s, held a vulnerability Ace had rarely seen, but also a startling determination. "It’s... intense," she admitted, her voice gaining a fraction of strength. "And... yes. It hurts. But..." Her gaze flickered to Ace, just for a heartbeat. A look that burned. "I wanted it. I want it." She swallowed hard, looking back at Lee. "Don't ask me to explain it yet. I can't. But... it's not a mistake."
Lee studied her face for a long moment, then slowly nodded, a small, understanding smile finally touching his lips. "Okay, Blondie. Okay." He took another sip of his latte. "Just... maybe invest in some arnica cream? And perhaps a pillow for that chair?" His attempt at levity was weak, but it broke the tension.
Ace felt the knot in her stomach ease slightly, replaced by a surge of fierce, possessive pride. CC hadn’t flinched. Not completely. She reached under the table and placed her hand firmly on CC’s jean-clad thigh, high up. Not discreetly. A deliberate press. CC jumped, a tiny gasp escaping her, her cheeks flaming again, but she didn’t pull away. She shifted slightly, pressing her leg more firmly against Ace’s hand.
Lee saw the movement. He coughed, suddenly finding the pattern on his cup fascinating. "Right. So, um... anyone got the lowdown on Professor Hendricks' midterm review sesh? Rumor is it's brutal..."
The walk back to the dorms was quieter. The afternoon sun was warm, students milled around. CC walked slowly, still favoring her right side, the stiffness more pronounced now after sitting. Ace matched her pace, her hand resting lightly on CC’s lower back again. The possessiveness hadn't faded. If anything, seeing Lee's reaction, hearing CC's shaky affirmation, had stoked it hotter.
"You okay?" Ace asked, her voice rough. "Really?"
CC nodded, looking straight ahead. "Yeah. Just... tender. Inside." She bit her lip, a ghost of that earlier, desperate look flickering in her eyes. "Lee wasn't wrong about it feeling like a baseball bat. At first." She glanced sideways at Ace. "But... fuck, Ace. The stretch." The word was a husky whisper, sending a jolt straight to Ace’s core. "I can still feel it."
They reached CC’s dorm building. The relative privacy of the hallway felt thick, charged. Ace unlocked the door, the familiar scent of sweat and sex still hanging in the air, mixed now with the coffee they’d brought back. CC kicked off her shoes with a sigh and limped towards the bed, sinking down onto the edge with a wince.
"God, that chair," she groaned, leaning back on her elbows. The movement pulled her sweater taut, outlining the swell of her breasts, the curve of her waist. The bruises on her neck stood out like violent flowers against her pale skin. Ace locked the door, the click echoing softly.
She walked over slowly, deliberately. Stood between CC’s parted legs. Looked down at her. The raw need from this morning wasn’t gone. It was banked, simmering, waiting. CC’s gaze travelled up Ace’s body, lingering on the defined muscles of her abdomen visible under her thin t-shirt, then met her eyes. That hunger was back. Undiluted. Needy.
"Still sore, huh?" Ace murmured, reaching out. Not for her neck this time. Her fingers brushed the fly of CC’s jeans, right over her mound. She pressed down, not hard, but firm. Testing.
CC’s breath hitched. Her hips lifted off the bed slightly, pressing up into the pressure. A low whine escaped her throat. "Ace..."
"Yeah, princess?"
"It aches," CC breathed, her eyes darkening. "Deep inside. Like... like a hollow place." She spread her legs wider on the bedspread, an unmistakable invitation. "Needs... filling."
Ace didn't need another word. The harness was still in the plastic case under the bed, but her hands were right here. Her own need, sharp and urgent, surged. She popped the button on CC’s jeans, dragged the zipper down with a harsh rasp. CC lifted her hips, helping as Ace yanked the denim and her panties down her thighs in one rough movement, leaving them bunched around her knees.
CC was already wet. Gloriously wet. Her pussy was swollen, the lips flushed a deep, aroused pink. Ace could see a faint slickness glistening on her inner thighs. The evidence of her readiness, despite the soreness, despite the afternoon in the cafe, was obscene. Ace groaned, the sound ripped from deep in her chest. She dropped to her knees on the worn carpet, pushing CC’s legs wider apart, burying her face between them.
The scent was overwhelming. Musk, sex, her. Ace inhaled deeply, then licked a broad, flat stripe from her perineum up through her soaking wet slit to her clit.
CC cried out, back arching sharply off the bed. "FUCK! Ace!"
Ace didn't tease. She feasted. Her tongue was relentless, plunging deep inside, licking and probing the tender, stretched entrance, feeling the heat, the swollen flesh yielding to her invasion. She fucked her with her tongue, hard and deep, replicating the brutal thrusts of the strap, but with wet, intimate heat. She tasted the lingering soreness, the raw edges, mixed with the fresh flood of CC’s arousal. It was intoxicating.
"Yes! God, yes, just like that!" CC sobbed, her hands flying to Ace’s short hair, tangling in the dark strands, holding her face hard against her pussy. "Fuck my sore little cunt with your tongue! Harder! Please!"
Ace growled against her, the vibrations making CC shriek. She curled her tongue, pressed it as deep as it would go, then pulled back to suck CC’s clit into her mouth, worrying the hard nub with lips and teeth.
CC thrashed, bucking wildly. "Oh god! Oh fuck! I’m gonna... Ace, don’t stop!" Her thighs clamped around Ace’s head, trembling violently.
Ace thrust two fingers deep inside without warning, crooking them, finding that spongy spot instantly. CC’s inner muscles were still sensitive, swollen, gripping Ace’s fingers with incredible tightness. Ace fucked her with her fingers, hard and fast, while her mouth ravaged her clit, sucking and biting.
The orgasm hit CC like a freight train. She screamed, a raw, guttural sound that shook the small room. Her body bowed off the bed, rigid, then convulsed violently, her pussy clamping down on Ace’s fingers in rhythmic, milking spasms. Wetness gushed, coating Ace’s chin, her hand. Ace rode it out, fingers pumping, tongue relentless, wringing every last shuddering pulse from CC’s ravaged body until she collapsed, boneless and gasping, onto the mattress.
Ace pulled her fingers out slowly, slick and glistening. She licked them clean, her eyes locked on CC’s flushed, wrecked face. She climbed onto the bed, straddling CC’s trembling thighs. Her own jeans were uncomfortably tight, her clit throbbing against the denim seam.
CC’s eyes fluttered open. They were dazed, unfocused, but filled with a desperate, sated need. She reached up, her fingers clumsy, fumbling with the button on Ace’s jeans. "Your turn," she slurred, her voice wrecked. "Need to taste you. Now."
Ace caught her wrist. Not stopping her, just holding it. Looking down at the beautiful, bruised mess beneath her. The girl who’d walked into a cafe limping and blushing, who was now demanding more. The girl who was rewriting her own story, one raw, messy, perfect encounter at a time.
"Patience, princess," Ace rumbled, leaning down to capture CC’s swollen lips in a deep, claiming kiss, tasting herself on CC’s tongue. "I’m not done with you yet." She released CC’s wrist, letting her hand continue its fumbling descent. The promise hung heavy in the air, thick as the scent of sex. The day wasn't over. Not even close.