Emilyyy’s Glorious Yuri Pile

[Emilyyy]

This is the fic that got me banned off SpaceBattles, and just to be clear, the characters are all over the age of 18.

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Her breath hitched, back arching slightly off the mattress, and I watched with greedy fascination as her fingers tangled in the sheets, white-knuckled and desperate. She was so close to falling apart, and I hadn't even really started yet. I smirked against her inner thigh, lips brushing teasingly close to where she was already dripping for me, feeling the tremble roll through her.

God, she was gorgeous like this: eyes fluttering, chest rising and falling in sharp, hoarse breaths, overwhelmed by her longing for me. And I knew her. I didn't even need to use my power to know what she wanted. But I did anyway, because I could, and because I loved hearing her illicit gasp every time I read her right.

Muscles relaxed, even as others tensed, and her nerve endings tingled as featherlight kisses traced a path up her spine to the clasp of her bra, subtly hinting at the promise of even greater pleasure.

"Lisa..." she gasped as the garment fell, and my lips grazed the bare skin of her chest, my tongue flicking out to tease its peak.

I smirked against her flushed skin. "You okay, babe?"

Taylor's only answer was a broken moan, and the way her hips jerked up against mine said more than words ever could.

My fingers slid along her ribs, calloused pads mapping every inch like a territory I'd already conquered, her heartbeat thundering beneath my touch. When I finally looked into her eyes, they were wide, pupils blown, and so damn trusting it almost stopped me in my tracks. Almost.

I leaned in, brushing my lips against hers, slow at first, just a tease. Then deeper, hotter, as she rose to meet my kiss with equal enthusiasm. Her arms wrapped around my neck, dragging me down like she couldn't stand the inch of space between us. Neither could I.

She whimpered into my mouth as I rolled my hips against her, and I felt her body light up under mine, instinctively chasing the contact. My name slipped out of her lips—half-whisper, half-plea—and it sent a bolt of heat right through me.

God, she was beautiful when she fell apart. My Taylor, all long limbs and awkward angles, undone beneath me, trusting me to take her apart and put her back together again.

In the most effortless of dances, we moved as one, rhythmically, joined across our legs and a part of this wanton union that demanded utmost devotion and a satisfying ending, leaving us both writhing on the bed and clutching onto each other. Even as we trembled with almost manic urgency, I was content with watching every expression flicker across her face: the need, the tension, the way her mouth dropped open when I hit just the right spot.

Her moans filled the room, soft and raw and real. Every rub drove us closer, her body arching, mine pressing her further down into the mattress like I could brand myself into her.

She came undone with my name on her lips, a strangled cry that tore through the quiet. I felt her clench around me, shuddering, trembling intensely, clinging to me like I was the only solid thing in the world. I kissed her through it, sweet and slow, letting her ride it out.

When it was over, I eased away just enough to look at her comfortably. Taylor lay there, still flushed, chest heaving. I could feel her gaze drifting, then snapping to mine. Amusement twinkled in its depths, and unable to hold my gaze, she looked away.

I noticed that—of course I did—and followed it, seeing her eyes go to her thong lying on the polished surface of the dresser, where I'd tossed it earlier. Straight and gleaming white teeth showed as my smirk widened, and I stood from where I lay beside her and walked to it, quietly drinking in the glances she snuck at my backside.

Looping the fabric around a finger, I turned on my heels and sauntered back to her.

"That's not going back on anytime soon."

"Lisa," she said, sitting up a little. "Give it back."

She came up as her hands darted for it, but at the last second, I pulled it away from her reach. Scrunching her face, she watched as I lifted an eyebrow, mischief twinkling in my eyes.

"Mmm, I don't think so."

She tried again to no avail. "You're ridiculous."

I knelt and leaned forward to brush her hair away from her face, my hand sliding down to stroke her cheek. Her breath hitched as my thumb ran gently across her bottom lip and I leaned in.

My lips brushed against hers and traveled to her ear. My breath stirred the tiny hairs on her neck, sending a shiver into every cell of her body, and the soft skin of her ear flushed.

"Lisa, what are—"

Laying a hand on the small of her back, I pulled her close and spoke softly against the shell of her ear.

"I'm keeping it."

Her gaze snapped to me, her eyes widening, and I saw about a million emotions clashing on her face as her cheeks turned further pink. I smirked in that knowing way she loved, and though normally she would be powerless to resist, now she was able to wrestle her voice into indifference.

"Why… why would you?"

However, it was tight with unravelling restraint, and I breathed out a laugh. She attempted to get her thong again, but like the first time, I leaned back to easily evade her outstretched arm and shrugged.

"Call it a trophy of sorts."

"A trophy?" she repeated flatly.

I leaned in, my lips centimetres from hers. Then, I lightly nipped her lower lip and murmured against her mouth.

"Or better yet, a parting gift."

Delicately, I brushed my fingers through her hair and over the tips of her ears. She fought to stay still, a muscle twitching in her jaw as she gazed at my lips and my breath brushed her cheek. Heart pounding, she closed the distance between us once more, and just as her hands came up to grip the back of my neck to deepen the kiss, I pulled away from her.

"Lisa?"

She caught my wrist to stop me from walking away, but, placing my palm over her knuckles, I coaxed her hands off me.

"Where are you going?" she asked, standing from the bed. When I pointed at the door, she quickly added, tone high-pitched as she stared without blinking, "No, you can't be serious?"

As my hands gripped the doorknob and twisted it, I glanced at her in my peripheral vision, still with that damnable smirk—her words, not mine—playing on my lips.

"What if I am?"

"B-but you are still naked!" She rushed over to me as I crossed the threshold, hands gripping the lock stile of the door.

"So?" I asked, lifting my shoulders in a dismissive shrug. "The others are out to give us some privacy."

"You're the worst."

"I'm your worst." I leaned in one last time, voice intentionally husky. "And you love it."

And then I walked out, thong still twirling on my finger, lips tingling from her kisses and chest buzzing from the warmth in her gaze. God, I was so screwed.

But maybe not in a bad way.

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