Chapter Text
Lena had been living in her office ever since she found out. That is how she had been thinking of it. Since she found out. If anyone noticed, they didn’t say anything. And it wasn’t like she wasn’t getting her clothes laundered. She’d already had the office fitted with a full bathroom and shower stall, a product of many late nights falling asleep at her desk, and she had a small closet full of what she had considered her ‘back up’ clothes. Although now they were just her regular clothes. She hadn’t meant to move into her office, but one night had turned to two, then three, then weeks. She couldn’t go home. She had been there. She had been there as a friend. But of course, she had been to the office too. But even so, this was Lena’s space, and she had been an interloper. People respected her here, feared her here, prostrated themselves for her here, on the other side of her desk. So Lena felt she needed to be here, in this place where she had complete control, where she was the one who had power, where she was a Luthor.
And, like her father before her, she had taken to drinking. The drinking came easily, as she knew it would. Hereditary. And it helped with the aches she would feel from sleeping on a couch that was never meant to be slept on. Between the aches and the constant hangover, she found herself often distracted with discomfort- something she was grateful for. Again, if anyone noticed, no one said anything, and the board of directors couldn’t be happier with her. She had become a little less forgiving.
She hadn’t given up her charity projects, and had doubled spending in some sectors of human welfare development, but she had also developed a technology in a whirlwind of intense sleepless nights and a mind working overtime. She was in talks with the defense department, and while she had heretofore ignored such courtship, eager to distance herself from anything related to military power or violence, she had since changed her tune. And the tech was valuable. Even if she decided not to move forward with the government, she was planning to sell it well on the private market. If they wanted it, then, they could buy it like every other rich person in the world would. She was only waiting on the patents to come through and final trials to be run.
It had been quite a lot in quite a short amount of time, and Lena didn’t think too fondly on it. It was late and she had been drinking very heavily, a near empty bottle of very expensive scotch was in her hand and she lounged uncomfortable on the couch, one leg on the floor and one leg up. The armrest dug into her back but none of the usual physical distractions seemed to be working this evening.
The day after she had found out, Alex had come to her office with two other agents. Well, had tried to. She had warned Jess when she first arrived that the government might be dropping by for a visit today, and that she was, under no circumstances, to let them in. Lena told her to patch her through if they gave her any trouble. Jess, bless her, asked no questions and simply said, “Yes, Miss Luthor.”
Jess, perhaps more than anyone at this point, was very familiar with the people Lena had to deal with, and she sided with her unconditionally. Lena had also told her that Miss Danvers was no longer to be permitted a visit unless she had a previous appointment. Jess had looked at her for only a moment, before saying again, “Yes, Miss Luthor.” If she had an opinion, she kept it to herself, and Lena was grateful.
So, when the Agent Danvers had arrived with her posse Jess had asked if they had an appointment. Lena, while she could see them through the glass that separated her office from Jess’ desk, did not deign to look up. She could see some animated hand motions, and then the buzz came.
“Miss Luthor,” Jess had said, “Agent Danvers is here to speak with you.”
Lena was pleased her voice had been as cold and hard as she had wanted from the girl. “Does she have an appointment?” Lena asked, coy.
“No, Miss Luthor,” Jess had said.
Lena didn’t need to see Alex to know the steam that was coming off her head. “Does she have a warrant?”
There was a silence on the other end of the line, one which Lena assumed was filled with Jess asking that question. A moment, then, “No, Miss Luthor.”
“Then tell her she can make an appointment,” She said easily, “Oh and Jess?”
“Yes, Miss Luthor?”
“I have activated the emergency lock on my office door. So, when she tries to barge in here and is unable to come in, please inform her you will be calling security if she pursues. She can make an appointment, or she can be escorted out.”
“Yes Miss Luthor,” Jess said, and Lena put down the phone.
True enough, it happened just as Lena said it would. Alex had done some violent gesturing, and then had attempted the door, which she found immovably locked. Lena did not look up from her work, despite the sounds of the Agent Danvers trying to pry the door from its hinges.
The appointment was scheduled for two days from then, three days after she had found out. She had been texting Lena almost nonstop, and Lena took no small delight in ignoring them, and in ignoring the phone calls as well. She did not listen to the voicemails. After the Agent Danvers had visited the first time, she had texted Lena.
I don’t want to have to force my way to you. I just want to talk.
Lena had replied swiftly, the first reply to tens of text messages.
What would you do? Have your sister put out a warrant for my arrest?
And that had been that. Lena had blocked her number, and blocked every other number that she tried to text or call from. As the time wore on, the attempts dwindled. Though Lena could expect at least one call a day from a different number, with a voicemail inevitably left by her. Lena had entertained the idea of her using payphones, and imagining her scouring the city for any remaining, working payphones was amusing. Lena did not dwell on the fact that she should not be taking pleasure in her desperation, that maybe a better version of Lena was frowning, but Lena had the high ground now, and everyone seemed to know it.
The appointment with the Agent Danvers had been brief. She had stormed in and dropped a stack of bound papers on her desk. Lena looked at her. Agent Danvers did not sit down.
“Here,” She said, and Lena could see she was still heated from her first attempt at visitation, “Your NDA. Sign it and then we can be done.”
Lena looked at the papers, then back at the woman before her. “My NDA?” Lena had said, and she scooted the stack back towards the redhead, “No, Agent Danvers I believe this is your NDA. I won’t be signing anything.”
“I swear to God I’ll fucking come in and have you arrested,” Agent Danvers had seethed.
“Oh?” Lena intoned innocently, “For what? What would the warrant be for, exactly? For not signing an NDA? And what, pray tell, does the NDA keep me from talking about? I don’t work for a government agency so why would I need to sign a government NDA? I can hardly imagine the press surrounding the issue, can you?”
Agent Danvers had slammed her hands on Lena’s desk in a very vain attempt to intimidate her. “You sign the fucking paper or I’ll-”
Lena had had enough. She remained seated and cut the woman off succinctly. “Or what, Agent Danvers? What will you do? I have no legal obligation to sign anything you decide to slam in front of me, no matter what you may be threatening to do. A government agent making idle threats over and NDA only a handful of people would know the contents of? Please. Take your posturing and your papers and go.”
Lena could see Agent Danvers’ jaw clenching. “No legal obligation,” She repeated, “What about a moral one?”
Lena had smiled so sweetly at that. “A moral obligation to whom?”
Because Agent Danvers knew she would never be able to say. If Lena had once had moral obligations to her, to the person she thought Lena could be, that had since passed. After all, no one seemed to have had a moral obligation to her. The redhead had turned to leave and had made it to the door before Lena stopped her, saying, “Oh Agent Danvers?”
“What?” Came the hostile reply.
“You forgot something,” Lena said, smiling and tapping the NDA with a pen, “I’d hate to throw it out and have just anyone find it.”
Lena was unsure if anyone in the world had hated her as much as Agent Danvers did in that moment. She stormed over, grabbed the pages from Lena’s desk, scattering her other work, and left. Lena could see the door wobble as she slammed it behind her. Lena watched Jess say something and watched as Agent Danvers had left in the elevator. Lena buzzed over to her secretary.
“Yes, Miss Luthor?” Came the peppy voice.
“What did you say to her?” Lena asked, amusement lacing her tone.
“I told her to have a nice day, Miss Luthor. Like I do all your appointments.”
Lena had laughed and laughed, thanked her, and gone about her day.
And so, time had passed. Agent Danvers did not return to her office, and Lena did not return to her apartment. Lena did not do anything that involved leaving her office. She didn’t go out for food, she didn’t jog in the morning, she didn’t drive anywhere. She liked where she was. So visible, surrounded by glass on almost all sides, and absolutely unreachable. One phone call a day that she ignored, one bottle a day that she did not.
She wasn’t too surprised, then, when a familiar set of primary colors landed on her balcony about a month after she had found out. Of course it would happen on a day when the ache and the alcohol didn’t suppress her memories. When, with one foot on the floor and one on the couch, her heels strewn haphazardly nearby, she’d spent the better part of the night reliving those same few days again and again. She looked at the clock on her phone and laughed. Almost three in the morning.
Lena didn’t move from her spot, but she could see her fidgeting outside. “Well,” She said, speaking as though someone were in the room with her, “Are you going to come in or not?”
She watched the colors move to her balcony door and try it. It was locked, of course. Lena moved her eyes, then, to the door and caught her eye for the first time in a long time. It helped not to think about her, but it was hard when here she was. Kara motioned to the door, pointing like an idiot, and mouthed, ‘it’s locked.’
Lena looked at her. “Why should that stop you?” she asked.
She hesitated at the door, her hand grabbing the handle. Kara hesitated. Kara. And with just the thought of her name the resentment boiled up in her. But she was a Luthor, goddamnit, and for the first time in her life, faced with a Super in front of her, she wanted to act like it. More than that. She wanted to relish in it. Relish in her name for the first time in her life.
It seemed Kara didn’t know what to do. She looked back at Lena, her mouth moving too quickly for Lena’s drunken eyes to keep up with, and Lena said nothing. Lena wasn’t sure how much time passed. Maybe a few minutes, maybe more, and then she heard the sound of the handle breaking, the jarring sound of metal being crunched and glass being cracked, and Kara opened the door.
“You can put it on the desk,” Lena said lazily, gesturing with her bottle across the room. The desk was close to Kara, but she fidgeted.
“Put…Put what?” Lena heard her ask, and her voice sounded so foreign. So alien.
Lena looked back at her, taking the last bit of scotch from her bottle. “Come now,” she said patronizingly, “We both know this isn’t a social visit.”
Lena watched Kara hesitate again, and then sigh. She took the NDA, which had been in a plastic case on her back, and put it down where Lena had said to. She didn’t need an explanation of what it was. She knew. Kara knew she knew.
Lena, for all the alcohol, was feeling sharper and more deadly every moment she had to look at her. She felt the heat of anger rising to her cheeks and felt her breath quickening before the anger froze and chilled. Lillian had always said Luthor’s didn’t do tempers, they were cold in anger. “Do you have an earpiece in?” She asked icily.
She watched again as Kara hesitated, and the more she did it the more disgusted Lena became with it. Finally, after a moment, Kara said, “Yes.”
Lena still did not move from her uncomfortable posture. “Is that the only way they are monitoring you?” She asked. Kara, for her part, seemed to know she was swimming in shark infested waters.
“Yes,” Kara said, before adding, “They told me it would be only this. I wanted…I thought maybe…at least some privacy…”
“Do you trust that?” Lena asked pointedly. Naïve, Lena thought. Of course that wasn’t it. That would never be it. Not when Lena was involved. Not when Kara was involved. Not when Supergirl was involved.
“What?” Kara asked dumbly.
“Do you trust that they are only monitoring you through your earpiece?”
Lena watched the girl waffle. It was exhausting. They were yes or no questions.
“I-” Kara began, before her brow furrowed. Perhaps, for the first time ever, she was questioning her trust in the people she worked with. Her trust in her sister. Her trust no one would lie to her. The thought extended, before she said, “Yes. Yes I do trust that.”
“Let’s put it to the test, then,” she said simply. “Do you see that button over there to the left of the window?” Lena said, pointing. Indeed, there was a circular, raised button that blended, almost seamlessly, with the wall. “Go press it,” She commanded.
“What?” Kara asked again. Lena said nothing. She just looked at her, standing there like an idiot. Hesitation upon hesitation and it was ugly to Lena. Childish. Finally, Kara decided to go over. She paused when she reached the button, and Lena saw her frown, wiping that stupid default puppy dog look off her face for the first time that night. Lena didn’t want that. Not tonight. Tonight, she wanted Kara to feel like she was the one in danger, and that maybe no one could save her. Lena had the high ground. Had the secret on the tip of her tongue, always. Had no reason, legal or otherwise, to sign the NDA. Lena could ruin so many people’s lives with just one quick press conference.
Finally, it seemed Kara got mad, and she pushed the button.
Nothing dramatic happened, Lena’s curtains just closed. But as they did, Lena knew any monitoring of any kind the DEO was doing would be disrupted.
Kara turned to face her, frowning. Finally, finally she looked serious. “My comms are down,” she said simply.
Lena smiled, “I know,” she said, the words extending on her heavy tongue. Three minutes passed in silence. “Go ahead,” She said finally, “Press it again.”
The curtains opened, and undoubtedly Kara would be bombarded with a cacophony of communications trying to reach her. “What do you mean, lost visual?” Kara said lowly, and Lena had never seen her look quite like this before. Had never seen her angry.
There. That was what Lena had wanted to see. To see Kara’s trust be betrayed. To see the anger, the hurt, the confusion. Lena sat up on the couch, finally relieving her back from the uncomfortable position.
“How do you like my curtains, Agent Danvers?” She said, talking to the comm in Kara’s ear. “How about you, Winn? We’re going to market them as the ultimate privacy curtains. They disrupt electromagnetic waves, scrambling audio and video. Infrared, telescopic lenses, you name it. Aren’t they lovely? For the average consumer the ceiling of the room will be left empty, so emergency calls can still go out through the roof, by my room is wired to activate entirely when those close. I’m sure you understand why. Mine,” She said, staring hard at Kara, “Are also lead-lined. For obvious reasons. But that will be an optional upgrade when we go to market.”
Kara stared at her, her expression nigh unreadable. “If you want to talk,” Lena said, “The curtains close.”
There was no hesitation this time as Kara strode confidently to the button and pressed it. And like that, they were alone. “Take your earpiece out,” Lena said.
“They can’t hear,” Kara said quietly.
“And you don’t think it has passive recording?” Lena sniped. Sometimes Kara was so computer illiterate it hurt.
Kara took the small piece from her ear.
“Crush it,” Lena commanded. “Take it between your fingers, and crush it.”
Kara did, and Lena watched the little sparks fly and the pieces fall, as Kara let the useless device fall to the floor. Kara said nothing.
Lena stood, dizzy for a moment, and walked over to her liquor cabinet. It was inlaid in the wall, and took a moment for her to figure at this stage. “I suspected,” She said, “Of course I suspected. At one point, I even thought I knew.”
Lena grabbed a new bottle and stumbled, she saw Kara move to help her and seethed, “Don’t you fucking touch me. Don’t you come anywhere near me.” She made her way to the side table next to the couch, where she kept her drinking glasses. She hadn’t bothered with them in some time, but she needed something to do that wasn’t looking at Kara.
“I thought I knew,” She repeated. She placed the two bottles, on empty and one full, hard on the side table. An angry noise. “But of course,” she continued, and then it all came snowballing out. “Of course the longer it went on, the less sure I became. Not because Kara didn’t look like you. Not because Kara couldn’t be you. No. If only it were a reason as simple as that. If only I had had evidence, but no. No. As it went on, I was more and more sure she wasn’t you. Because the longer it went, the more sure I was that Kara wouldn’t lie to me. Kara wouldn’t lie to me.”
“Lena, I-”
Lena grabbed the empty bottle from the table and turned, throwing it as hard as she could saying, “Goddamnit I knew!” Her aim was surprisingly accurate, and she watched as the bottle made contact and shatter against the blue spandex. Kara didn’t move. It was so inhuman to see. Alien, Lena thought. Alien, Alien, Alien. She huffed, vitriolic. “Fuck, I’m so glad I didn’t…” she cut herself off before revealing too much. Turning back to the table to calm her breathing, she scolded herself for letting the heat of her anger melt the more trustworthy ice. No. No that was the one thing she wouldn’t say.
“So glad you didn’t what?” Kara asked gently. Too gently. It only served to anger Lena more.
She poured herself a generous drink and sat back on the couch. She wished this interaction was less sobering, and felt all the alcohol in the world wouldn’t help. But god, if she wasn’t going to try. Lena didn’t deign to give her an answer.
“Lena, please,” Kara said, “Please tell me how to fix this. I’ll do anything.”
It was so sad and so desperate and so clear in that moment that it was true. Lena looked at her, a Super in front of her, prostrate and begging for something like so many in this office had done before. “Anything?” Lena asked, looking at the Girl of Steel through hooded eyes.
“Anything,” Kara intoned, stepping closer to her.
Lena didn’t have time to weigh her options. She was drunk, drunker than drunk and had been drunk for weeks. Nothing, it seemed, mattered. If she had truly been sober, maybe she wouldn’t have said what she did.
“Kneel,” She commanded lowly.
The implications, for once, were not lost on the Super. “What?” She asked quietly, almost in disbelief.
“Kneel,” Lena repeated, her voice firmer. She leaned back into the couch and crossed her legs.
“Lena,” Kara tried, “This is ridiculous, I’m not-”
“You can kneel, or you can leave and have all your little posse stop bothering me. Permanently.” Lena watched Kara bounce lightly on her toes, looked at her toned legs. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to,” she continued, “But those are your options.
The bouncing stopped and Kara scoffed. The petty sound was music to Lena’s ears. Kara didn’t do petty. “Like you could make me do anything,” she said.
“I could,” Lena answered. “I know who you are. I know where you live. I own where you work. I could make myself a pretty green necklace with matching earrings, walk into Catco, and pull you in for a meeting- as your boss. I could make you sit there, staring at my pretty green necklace and matching earrings, and you wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing about it. You’d raise suspicion if you decided to leave the meeting early. Or, you could refuse the meeting, and I could fire you.”
Kara looked at her, and Lena relished the dread falling over the blonde’s face, the weight of Lena’s position finally sinking in fully. All the pieces were in her favor, not Kara’s.
“I could do all that,” she continued, “But I’m not. Instead, I’m asking you to kneel.”
Lena watched Kara’s chest rise and fall faster. “I don’t believe you,” she said, posturing. “I don’t believe you would do that, could do that.”
“Oh, no?” Lena questioned. “You’re familiar with the safe in my wall, I’m sure. Don’t act like you haven’t seen it.”
Kara looked where it was hidden and nodded.
“Lead lined,” Lena said, rubbing it in, “What do you think is in there, Supergirl?”
Kara’s eyes snapped back to hers, disbelieving.
“Just the usual, you know. Spare travel papers, money, a gun. Things any billionaire would keep on hand for emergencies. But I’m not any billionaire, am I?” The Luthor said, feeling her words cut into the blonde. “Inside that safe, there is another, smaller box. This one is lead-lined too, and heavy duty. But there is no lock. If I opened the lid of that smaller box, inside would be a beautiful little green rock.”
“You’re lying!” Kara yelled, sweeping her arm across the air.
“Am I?” Lena asked, “Am I really?”
She watched tears spring to Kara’s eyes. It didn’t feel quite as good as she thought. It was true. She had kryptonite. Of course she did. She was a Luthor, and they did not have comfortable relations with Kryptonians. No matte what else, no matter the trust, no matter her image, she always had Kryptonite.
“Why would you have that?” Kara asked, voice cracking.
“Are you in control?” Lena replied simply, “Are you in control one hundred percent of the time? I know you wouldn’t do anything bad, not on your own, but would others? Would others use you and your power? Infect you? Expose you to a little red rock?”
Kara knew she couldn’t answer.
“Contingency plans are not something to be taken lightly,” Lena said, “And I take mine very seriously. No matter what.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kara asked weakly.
Lena laughed. “Tell who? Supergirl?” The barb was sharp, and Lena could see it strike true as Kara stepped back. She settled, back in control. Cold, drunk, cruel. “You can kneel,” she repeated, “or you can leave.”
The venom of her words wasn’t lost on Kara and after all, she had said anything.
Lena watched Supergirl kneel in practically slow motion. Watched her thighs tense. Watched her knees hit the floor. This. This. A Super kneeling, willingly, in front of a Luthor. And the shame on Kara’s face, the abandonment of pride, Lena wanted to drink it, wanted to get drunk on it, wanted to see it for the rest of her life. If only Lex could see her now.
Her breathing grew ragged, and she put her drink on the side table, forgotten. Here eyes were sharp, and she loved that Kara couldn’t meet her gaze. Anything, Lena remembered. She said anything.
“Crawl,” Lena said, her voice heavy.
Kara looked at her then, incredulous. “Lena, please, I-”
But Lena was too far gone in this fantasy, in this power. Power over the most powerful being on Earth. Would she cry? Or would that be the last stronghold of her pride? “Crawl,” She said again, harsher, cutting the girl off.
Lena watched every muscle in Kara’s body tense, her fists clenching, her eyes looking away. Oh it was hard for her. It was so, so hard for her. Lena licked her lips as, sure enough, Kara got on her hands and knees and crawled over to her. God, God on Earth this feeling was everything. This feeling was everything. Alcohol had been nothing, nothing compared to this feeling of absolute drunken power. Anything. She had said anything. And Lena was drunk on it. On Kara before her.
All those feelings she had been happy she’d done nothing about after she found out, they bubbled up and twisted into something ugly. Something that coursed wicked and ink black through her veins. So wicked and cruel she thought even Kara would be able to see it as she knelt before her. It was bad, it was bad, and she knew it was bad, but the tendrils of it grabbed at her, the power grabbed at her, and she didn’t want to stop them. She let those feelings, once so good and pure, contort in her. It was so cruel, so needlessly cruel, and she wanted it.
“Come here,” she said, and Kara, who had crawled deliciously across the broken glass and the floor, closed the remaining distance between her and Lena’s knees where she sat on the couch. Lena looked, and Kara did not look up at her. A crop of beautiful, rich blonde hair, and a red fucking cape with the House of El symbol on the back. She stared for a long moment.
“Push my skirt up,” Lena said quietly, though her voice was still cold and firm.
Kara couldn’t help but look up then, as though she had heard her wrong. But one look told her she hadn’t. Lena didn’t know. Didn’t know if she would go that far, but she had commanded it. Would she turn her away if the blonde didn’t comply? The doubt in Lena said Kara had done enough, but the cruelty in her was far stronger in this moment and said she hadn’t. Said yes, if she stopped now, she would turn her away. Said it wasn’t enough. Said nothing would ever be enough.
Lena watched expectantly. She could see Kara swallow. She was obtuse, that was for sure, but even she could see where this was going. Even she would know what Lena would ask of her next. The office was dark, but Lena even thought she could see her pupils’ dilate. Or maybe that’s just what she wanted to see. Wanted to have power over Kara this way too. Wanted Kara to want her, to thirst for her, to ache for her, to hurt for her.
Lena felt Kara’s fingers shake as they moved up her calves, over her knees and to the hem of her pencil skirt. Kara’s fingers wrapped around Lena’s thighs, so strong, so firm, and her hands pushed.
Lena lifted herself only slightly, allowing Kara to push the garment up over her hips until it sat on her waist. The girl’s hands dragged unnecessarily back down over the outside of Lena’s thighs, and she shivered. Kara could have yanked her hands away like she was touching fire. But she didn’t, and the ink black thing in Lena grew stronger. Kara looked at her intimately for only a moment, and then looked away again. Perhaps she wouldn’t cry after all. She sat there on her haunches, her hands balled into fists on her legs.
“Take them off,” Lena said, bringing herself a little bit closer to the edge of the couch.
Kara knew. Of course she did. Kara understood. And those trembling fingers placed themselves on Lena’s hips, hooked into the waistband of her underwear, and pulled them off. Down her long legs, to her ankles, off her feet, and onto the floor next to her. Lena was breathing so heavily, and was so wet and drunk she didn’t even see Kara’s breath coming just as quickly. She wouldn’t have cared anyway. She wanted to see two things only. She wanted to see Kara’s beautiful hair, and she wanted to see her cape.
Lena said nothing. She didn’t have to say anything. Kara knew what was being asked of her. She used her hands to lift Lena’s calves over her shoulders and moved them up her thighs to grab at Lena’s back. Lena watched Kara adjust, looking at her.
“Lena,” Kara sighed, oh so softly. Lena didn’t hear, too caught up in the sound of her blood rushing through her ears and the anticipation of what was to come.
Kara did not waste time. After her first tentative kiss, she pulled Lena further into her mouth and ate her with abandon. That's what it felt like- being eaten. Lena grabbed her hair and fought flinging her head back in pleasure. She wouldn’t close her eyes. She would look at her, look at Supergirl and her hair and her cape the whole time.
Perhaps she was eager to be done, but it didn’t matter to Lena because Kara’s tongue entered her as far as it could reach, her lips and teeth scraping her clit at each pass. It was so good, so good, and Lena didn’t care to hear Kara’s little moans or breaths against her, only enjoying the sensation of them.
Lena was careening over the edge fast as Kara pulled her tongue out and focused again on her clit. She licked her fast, too fast for a human, but Lena wouldn’t give Kara the satisfaction of hearing her cry out. Instead, she breathed heavily through her mouth, looking, wanting to memorize the image of Kara there, her legs over her shoulders, Kara’s hands grabbing desperately at her back, trying to force Lena closer and further into her mouth.
It lasted only moments longer. Kara’s tongue became chilled and before Lena could think ice breath, the sensation crashed through Lena. It was too good, too much, and she couldn’t help gripping the blonde hair in her fists tighter, throwing her head back and yelling, “Fuck, Kara!”
But Kara didn’t stop. She kept going through Lena’s orgasm as though she couldn’t get enough, as though she never wanted to stop, and Lena’s voice was ripped out of her unwillingly. She swore again and again, screamed as Kara pulled her through two more orgasms. It was blindingly good and only ended when Kara pulled away, panting heavily.
“Lena,” Kara said through heavy breaths, “Lena, I…”
But even in bliss, Lena would not give her an inch. It took only a moment for Lean to compose herself. She hummed, put her fingers to her lips, smiled. “That’s enough,” she said, “You can go now.”
Perhaps nothing had hurt Kara more. She stood sharply and wiped her mouth, ashamed. She turned around, grabbed the NDA and walked to the window, waiting for Lena to compose herself before she opened the curtains. Lena put her underwear back on and pulled her skirt down, grabbing the forgotten drink from off the side table. “Kara,” She said. She watched the girl turn fast to look at her, saw the hurt in her eyes. “You can leave the NDA. I’ll put it in my little safe. Tell them I’ll think about it.
Kara dropped the document on her desk and went back to the broken door, but Lena stopped her one last time. “And Kara?” She said innocently. The Super didn’t turn around. “I’ll let you know if there’s anything else you can do.”
Kara flew off to the sound of Lena laughing.