Chapter 6: Slammed Against the Tile
The third-floor bathroom door clicked shut, the sound final and hollow in the tiled silence. Ryli had Cadence against the wall before the lock fully engaged, her mouth a desperate heat on the column of Cadence’s throat. Her hands, usually so careful, fumbled with the button of Cadence’s jeans.
“Ryli—” Cadence gasped, her head thumping back against the cool paint. Her fingers twisted in the leather of Ryli’s jacket.
Ryli didn’t answer. Words were useless now. The last week of tender, patient learning had built a pressure in her chest she could no longer contain. It was the good kind of pressure, the Cadence-kind, but it had mutated into something fiercer, a need to assert, to claim, to feel in the old, obliterating way. She dropped to her knees, the linoleum cold through her jeans, and yanked Cadence’s jeans and underwear down her thighs in one rough motion.
The air was cold. Cadence trembled.
Then Ryli’s mouth was on her, and the world contracted to a point of wet, shuddering heat. She ate her out with a single-minded hunger, all technique eclipsed by pure need. Her tongue worked a ruthless rhythm, her hands holding Cadence’s hips pinioned against the wall. Cadence cried out, a sharp, broken sound that echoed off the porcelain. Her hands scrabbled, finding the edge of the sink, gripping it like a lifeline as her knees buckled.
“Please,” Cadence whimpered, a chant lost in the slide of skin and the frantic sounds of her own pleasure. “Please, please, please—”
Ryli drove her over the edge without ceremony. Cadence came with a muffled scream, her body bowing, her reflection in the cracked mirror a blur of flushed skin and wild, tear-blurred eyes. Ryli rode out the aftershocks with her mouth, until Cadence was weakly pushing at her shoulders, oversensitive and spent.
Only then did Ryli stand. Her legs were stiff. She reached into her bag, the one slung by the door, and pulled out the harness and the silicone strap. She’d bought it three days ago, a secret shoved to the bottom of her backpack. A question she’d been too afraid to ask.
Cadence, slumped against the wall and struggling to pull her jeans up, watched her with heavy-lidded eyes. She saw the harness, the cock. Her breath caught. Not in fear, but in a dazed, raw understanding.
“Turn around,” Ryli said, her voice a graveled thing. She worked the harness under her clothes with quick, efficient movements, the familiar weight a strange comfort.
Cadence turned, facing the mirror. Her eyes met Ryli’s in the glass. Ryli saw her own reflection—jaw tight, eyes dark and frantic, a storm barely contained. She stepped close, her body aligning with Cadence’s from behind. She pushed Cadence’s jeans back down, now just past her hips. Her hands smoothed over the soft skin of her ass, the delicate curve of her waist. Then she guided herself, the blunt head of the strap, to Cadence’s entrance. She was still slick from Ryli’s mouth.
“You wanted to learn me?” Ryli growled into her ear, her breath hot against Cadence’s skin. She didn’t wait for an answer. She pushed inside with one firm, relentless thrust.
Cadence gasped, a sharp intake that rattled in her chest. Her hands flew back to the sink, knuckles white. Her eyes in the mirror went wide, then fluttered shut.
“This is me,” Ryli said, her hips already setting a punishing pace. Each slam drove Cadence against the cold porcelain of the sink. “All of me. Take it.”
There was no patience now. No careful calibration. This was the undercurrent Ryli had been fighting—the part of her that wanted to fuck until she felt nothing, the part that wanted to be consumed by sensation so completely it burned out the static. She gripped Cadence’s hip with one hand, the other tangling in her blonde hair, not pulling hard, but holding her in place, forcing her to watch their reflection.
Cadence took it. Her moans were deep, guttural things, torn from a place beyond shyness. Tears tracked fresh paths through the old ones on her cheeks. With each thrust, a broken sob or a choked cry of “yes” escaped her lips. She was completely open, completely ravaged, meeting Ryli’s violence with a surrender that was its own kind of power.
“Look,” Ryli commanded, her own breath coming in ragged grunts. “Look at you.”
Cadence’s blue eyes opened, hazy and unfocused, finding Ryli’s in the glass. The connection was electric. Seeing Cadence’s utter abandonment, the ecstatic ruin on her face, tipped Ryli over the edge. She buried herself deep and stayed there as Cadence clenched around her, coming with a shattered, wordless scream that Ryli felt in her own bones. Ryli followed, a guttural groan ripped from her throat, her forehead falling between Cadence’s shoulder blades as she pulsed helplessly against her.
For a long minute, the only sounds were their ragged breaths and the drip of the faulty faucet. The fluorescent light buzzed overhead.
Ryli slowly pulled out, her hands gentling, coming up to wrap around Cadence’s waist as she sagged backward. She kissed the side of her neck, a silent apology for the brutality. Cadence turned in her arms, her face buried in Ryli’s neck. She was shaking.
“Okay?” Ryli whispered, the storm inside her receding, leaving a familiar hollow of shame.
Cadence nodded against her skin. “More than okay.” Her voice was wrecked. She pulled back, her smile wobbly but genuine. “You’re… a lot.”
A weak laugh escaped Ryli. “Yeah.”
They cleaned up in silence, a careful, tender dance amidst the vulgarity of the bathroom. Ryli helped Cadence back into her jeans, her fingers brushing the red marks on her hips with a pang. When they were put back together, or as together as they could be, Cadence looked at her, a new determination in her swollen eyes.
“My turn,” she said, her voice still hoarse.
“What?”
“To learn you. For real. Not just… that.” She gestured vaguely at the space they’d just occupied. “You showed me you. Now I want to… you know. Reciprocate.” A blush crept up her neck. “Properly.”
An hour later, they were back in Ryli’s dorm. Kayla was still nowhere to be found. The afternoon sun was softer now, casting long shadows. Nervous energy hummed between them, different from the bathroom’s desperation.
Cadence pushed Ryli to sit on the edge of the rumpled bed. She knelt on the floor between her knees, her hands on Ryli’s thighs. Her expression was one of intense, comical focus, like she was about to defuse a bomb.
“Just… don’t think about it too hard,” Ryli said, a smile tugging at her lips.
“I want to do it right,” Cadence said, all serious business. She undid Ryli’s jeans, pulled them down her hips. Then, with a deep breath, she leaned in.
It was, objectively, hilarious.
Cadence sucked her off with the frantic, unsynced enthusiasm of a baby bird trying to eat a worm. Too much teeth, not enough rhythm, her head bobbing with a chaotic gusto that had absolutely no correlation to what actually felt good. It was so earnest, so catastrophically bad, that a snort of laughter burst out of Ryli before she could stop it.
Cadence popped off, her face a picture of wounded confusion. “What? What’s wrong?”
Ryli was grinning, the first real, uncomplicated grin in weeks. “Nothing, nothing. It’s just… here.” She gently tugged her up. “Let me show you.”
She guided Cadence’s head back down, her fingers soft in her hair. “Less… jackhammer. More… like this.” She demonstrated a slow, sucking pressure with her own mouth on the air. “And for the love of god, mind the teeth. They’re not your friends here.”
Cadence’s cheeks were flaming red. “Oh my god. I’m so embarrassed.”
“Don’t be,” Ryli said, her thumb stroking her cheek. “It’s kind of the hottest thing ever, you trying so hard. Now, try again. Slow. Listen.”
Cadence did. This time, she was tentative, watching Ryli’s face for cues. Her tongue traced a slow, experimental path that made Ryli’s breath hitch. “There,” Ryli breathed. “Exactly there.”
Encouraged, Cadence found a rhythm. It was still clumsy, still amateur, but it was hers, and the sight of her between Ryli’s legs, so determined to please, so visibly flustered and trying anyway, unspooled Ryli faster than any expert technique ever could. She came with Cadence’s name on her lips, her hands cupping her face.
After, Cadence collapsed onto the floor beside the bed, resting her head against Ryli’s knee. Her lips were swollen, her hair a mess. “Was that… okay?”
Ryli slid off the bed to join her on the floor, pulling her into a loose embrace. “It was perfect. You’re perfect.” She kissed her temple, laughter still bubbling in her chest. “We’ve got time for you to practice. A lot.”
Cadence groaned, hiding her face. “I’m never living that down, am I?”
“Not a chance.”
They sat on the floor, tangled together in a pool of sunlight, the easy laughter a balm over the raw wounds of the afternoon. For a moment, the static was gone, replaced by a simple, buoyant warmth. Ryli held onto it, memorizing the feel of Cadence’s laughter vibrating through her own chest, knowing the hollow ache would return, but hoping, for the first time, that things like this might eventually fill it.
Ryli held onto it, memorizing the feel of Cadence’s laughter vibrating through her own chest, knowing the hollow ache would return, but hoping, for the first time, that things like this might eventually fill it.
The next day, after her last class, Ryli found Cadence waiting by the Charger. The sky was a dull sheet of gray, threatening rain. Cadence slid into the passenger seat, her backpack hitting the footwell with a thump. She didn’t say hello.
Instead, she looked over, her blue eyes holding a new, unnerving confidence. “Your place. Now.”
A slow smile spread across Ryli’s face. “Bossy.”
“You have no idea,” Cadence said, buckling her seatbelt. The click was loud in the quiet car.
They drove in a charged silence. Ryli’s hands were tight on the wheel. Every stoplight felt interminable. She could feel Cadence’s gaze on her profile, a tangible heat. When they finally reached the dorm lot, Ryli barely had the car in park before Cadence was out, striding toward the building without a backward glance. Ryli scrambled to follow, a strange thrill crackling up her spine.
Inside Ryli’s room, the door barely shut before Cadence turned. She dropped her backpack, kicked it aside. The determination from the car had solidified into something focused and steady.
“Sit,” Cadence said, pointing to the bed.
Ryli raised an eyebrow but obeyed, leaning back on her elbows. “You’ve been thinking.”
“All night,” Cadence admitted. She stepped between Ryli’s knees, her fingers going to the button of Ryli’s jeans. Her touch was sure, no fumbling. “I watched videos. Tutorials, actually. It was… educational.”
A startled laugh burst from Ryli. “You did not.”
“I absolutely did.” Cadence pushed the denim down, her hands warm on Ryli’s hips. “I have notes. Mental ones.” She knelt, her palms smoothing up Ryli’s taut stomach, over her ribs. “You said listen. So I’m going to listen. And you’re going to tell me everything you want.”
“What I want is for you to stop talking,” Ryli breathed, but the protest was weak, undercut by the way her body arched into Cadence’s hands.
“Too bad.” Cadence’s mouth hovered just above the waistband of Ryli’s boxer briefs. Her breath was hot through the fabric. “Tell me.”
The command, in that gentle voice, undid her. “Suck me,” Ryli whispered, the words gritty. “Just your mouth, slow. Use your tongue on the head, flat, like you’re tasting something.”
Cadence did. She pulled the briefs down and took her into her mouth with a slow, deliberate glide that was nothing like the frantic bird-pecks of the day before. She applied a perfect, steady pressure, her tongue doing exactly as instructed. A low groan tore from Ryli’s throat. Her head fell back.
“Yeah?” Cadence murmured, pulling off just enough to speak, her lips wet and shining.
“God, yes. Don’t stop.”
Cadence’s lips curved into a smile against her skin. Then she redoubled her efforts, her head beginning a smooth, rhythmic bob that was all practiced grace. She’d learned the cadence, learned where to apply suction, how to use her hand in tandem. It was obscenely good.
“Fuck, Cadence,” Ryli gasped, her fingers threading into that blonde hair, not to guide, just to hold on. “Where did you come from?”
Cadence pulled off again, breathing hard. “Told you. I practiced.” Her eyes glittered with mischief and hunger. “You taste like salt. Like mine. I dreamed about it.”
The dirty talk, so blunt and unexpected from her, sent a jolt straight to Ryli’s core. “Say that again.”
“I dreamed about your taste,” Cadence repeated, lowering her mouth once more. Her words were muffled but clear. “I dreamed about making you come in my mouth. About swallowing every bit of you.”
Ryli was losing her mind. The images, the filthy promises in Cadence’s sweet voice, the exquisite pressure of her mouth—it was a coordinated assault on every sense. The static in her head was drowned out by a roaring white noise of pure need. Cadence hummed, and the vibration tipped her from coherent thought into a writhing, pleading animal.
“I’m close, I’m so close, please—” Ryli choked out, her hips lifting off the bed.
Cadence didn’t pull away. She took her deeper, one hand firm on Ryli’s hip, the other cupping her, and she sucked harder, with a final, claiming intensity that shattered Ryli completely.
Ryli came with a broken cry, her vision spotting. Cadence took it all, her throat working, a soft, satisfied sound echoing in Ryli’s bones. She didn’t move until Ryli was trembling through the last aftershock, sensitive and spent.
Only then did she lift her head. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, a gesture so casually lewd it made Ryli’s heart stutter. Cadence looked up, her face flushed, her lips red and used. “Better?”
Ryli couldn’t speak. She reached down, her hands unsteady, and pulled Cadence up onto the bed, into her arms. She kissed her, tasting herself on Cadence’s tongue, a dark and intimate flavor. “You destroyed me,” she managed finally, her voice wrecked.
“Good.” Cadence nestled into her, her earlier confidence softening into a sated glow. “That was the point.”
They lay tangled as the rain began, a soft patter against the window. The hollow ache was not just filled; it was obliterated, packed solid with the weight of this astonishing girl and her newfound, devastating competence. Ryli traced the line of Cadence’s shoulder, her mind blissfully quiet. For now, the silence wasn’t something to fear. It was something she had earned.
It was something she had earned.
The rain kept falling, a steady gray whisper against the window, and for three days the world outside their tangled limbs held no shape. They skipped classes. They lived on delivery food eaten from cardboard containers in bed. They slept curled like parentheses, woke up tangled, and learned each other’s bodies with a focus that felt like a separate academic discipline.
The tentative student was gone. Cadence approached her now with a quiet, unsettling certainty. Her hands didn’t hesitate. Her mouth knew its way. She’d look at Ryli across the room, a bare glance, and Ryli’s skin would flush hot, a direct physiological response she had no control over.
It was a hunger that mutated by the hour. It wasn’t just about pleasure anymore. It was about imprinting. It was about the desperate need to feel real, to feel something so intensely it scorched away the hollow numbness that always waited in the wings.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Cadence murmured one night, her lips moving against the sweat-damp skin of Ryli’s shoulder blade. They were a mess of sheets, the room dark save for the blue glow of Ryli’s laptop, abandoned on the floor.
“I’m not thinking,” Ryli said, which was the truth. Thought had been replaced by a thick, buzzing static of want. She rolled over, pinning Cadence beneath her. She looked down at her, at the freckles she could barely see in the dark, at the serious line of her mouth. “I just need you.”
“You have me.”
“It doesn’t feel like enough.” The confession was quiet, awful.
Cadence’s hands came up to frame her face. “Then take more.”
It was permission for the thing already coiling inside her. Ryli kissed her, a deep, consuming thing that tasted like possession. Her hands were not gentle. They mapped the territory of Cadence’s body with a brutal familiarity, leaving faint red trails in their wake. Cadence arched into it, her nails scoring lines down Ryli’s back, a sharp counterpoint of pain that only fed the frenzy.
Later, the harness was a familiar weight, a second skin Ryli strapped on with a ritualistic focus. Cadence watched from the bed, her eyes dark pools in the gloom, her breathing already quickened.
This time, Ryli didn’t guide her. She pushed her onto her stomach, one hand firm between her shoulder blades. She didn’t ask. She just took, driving into her with a force that shook the bed frame, each thrust a blunt statement. Cadence’s cries were muffled by the pillow, then by her own fist. She pushed back against Ryli, meeting every slam, her body both yielding and defiant.
“Is this enough?” Ryli growled, her voice raw, her hips a relentless piston. She was chasing something just out of reach, something that felt like obliteration.
Cadence turned her head, cheek smashed against the pillow. Her words came out in gasped fragments. “I don’t… know… what… enough is… for you.”
The sentence shattered something in Ryli’s rhythm. She stilled, buried deep, her own breath heaving. The void yawned inside her, vast and hungry, and nothing, not even this, seemed to fill it. A terrible frustration welled up, hot and sharp.
She pulled out abruptly. The sound was wet, obscene. Cadence flinched at the sudden emptiness.
“Ryli?”
Ryli didn’t answer. She stood beside the bed, looking down at her own body, at the silicone cock jutting from the harness. It looked absurd. It looked violent. It was a tool for feeling, and she felt nothing but a yawning, infinite lack. A savage impulse took hold.
She slapped it against her own stomach, the sound a flat, startling crack in the quiet room. The impact stung. Good.
Cadence pushed up on her elbows, watching, confused.
Ryli did it again. Then she grabbed it, pushing the shaft up against her own chest, dragging the head over the tight muscles of her abdomen, up to press against the undersides of her small, bound breasts. The pressure was strange, alien. She was marking her own terrain, a futile, furious branding.
“See?” she hissed, the word choked. “See it? This is the part that’s supposed to fix me. This is the thing.” Her voice broke. She was trembling.
Cadence sat up all the way. She didn’t look scared. She looked… focused. Her gaze was locked on Ryli’s hand, on the press of silicone against skin, on the raw, lost expression on Ryli’s face. She reached for her phone on the nightstand.
The screen glowed to life, lighting her features from below.
“What are you doing?” Ryli asked, her arm frozen.
“Capturing it,” Cadence said, her voice utterly calm. She raised the phone. The camera lens was a dark, unblinking eye. “The part that’s supposed to fix you. I want to see it, too.”
She took the photo.
The artificial shutter sound was a punctuation mark in the dark. A flash of white light froze the image: Ryli’s tensed stomach, the dark strap of the harness, the pale silicone pressed hard against her, her face a mask of anguished want. It was vulnerability and aggression spliced together. It was hideous. It was the most honest thing she’d ever seen.
Silence pooled back in, thicker than before.
Cadence lowered the phone, looked at the screen. Her expression was unreadable. She held it out for Ryli to see.
Ryli stared at the captured image. It was a stranger. It was herself. The frantic energy drained out of her, leaving her cold and empty. She looked from the photo to Cadence’s waiting face.
“Delete it,” Ryli whispered.
Cadence’s thumb hovered over the screen. She didn’t move to delete it. She just held Ryli’s gaze, the phone between them like a shared secret, a piece of evidence in a case they were both building against the emptiness.