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“For sure, see you Monday.”
Vi slammed the car door and her friends went howling off into the night. She shook her head as she smiled, taking the stairs up to her apartment two at a time.
After a bit of fumbling, she got the door unlocked and stepped in.
Vi blinked, caught off guard by the glow of the lamp and Caitlyn still perched on the couch, pretty as a picture in her poro pajamas, legs crossed at the ankle. “What’re you still doin’ up?” Vi asked, tugging off her boots with a grunt. She slung her jacket onto the hook, shoulders loosening. “Thought you’d be passed out by now.”
“No reason at all,” Caitlyn said, voice clipped. “Just a whim.”
That tone sank its teeth into Vi. Her brows pinched together, and when her gaze drifted past Caitlyn she spotted the bowl of popcorn gone cold on the table, the pizza box on the counter still sealed. She rubbed the back of her neck. “Shit.”
Caitlyn stood in one brisk motion, spine straight, chin high. “It’s fine,” she said, every word too even. “Not like we made plans or anything.”
“Cait—” Vi started, reaching for her.
Caitlyn’s glare pinned her in place. “What?” she snapped. “What excuse would you like to give me this time?”
Vi’s mouth worked soundlessly. She’d been through brawls that hurt less than that stare. “I’m sorry,” she managed to mumble.
“We were supposed to spend the night in, Vi. Just us. And I come home from work to find you gone.” Caitlyn’s hands curled into fists at her sides. “Then I see you on socials, smiling for pictures, taking selfies with girls I’ve never even met.”
Vi winced, shaking her head. “What does it matter? They’re just friends, Cait.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Caitlyn bit back, stepping closer, the tension in her frame like a rubber band pulled to breaking. “That isn’t the point. The point is you weren’t here…for the fourth time.” She jabbed a finger at the empty couch, the cold popcorn, the sealed pizza box like they were evidence in some trial.
Vi rubbed her palms over her thighs, heat rising in her face. “Why didn’t you call me, then? If you wanted me here so bad, you could’ve picked up the phone.”
Caitlyn’s jaw tightened, her words a growl. “I shouldn’t have to call. You should want to be here. With me.”
“You aren’t my fuckin' girlfriend, Caitlyn,” Vi snapped, mouth moving even as she regretted every syllable. “I can go out with who I want, when I want.”
Caitlyn’s lips pressed into a razor-thin line. She held Vi’s gaze only a moment before whispering, “Of course...of course, how foolish of me.”
She tried to keep her face smooth, to wear that practiced Kiramman mask, but Vi saw it—the crack in the armor, the hurt leaking through her eyes. It was like watching someone try to hold back a river with their hands.
Vi’s throat closed. A hundred words shoved against her teeth—apologies, denials, excuses—but not one made it past. She just stood there, useless, while Caitlyn turned and started to walk away.
There was no thought, no plan, just a jolt that made Vi move. Her hand shot out, closing tight around Caitlyn’s wrist.
“Wait—”
“—I have been. For months.”
Vi’s stomach turned. She forced herself to meet Caitlyn’s eyes, those deep blues that always saw too much.
“Why them?” Caitlyn whispered, the words trembling even as she tried to steady them. “What do they have that I don’t?”
Vi’s breath caught, panic clawing up her throat. “Cait, it’s not like that—”
But Caitlyn’s expression twisted, her composure slipping, grief seeping out. She wasn’t glaring now. Worse—she was looking at Vi like she didn’t understand her at all, like every late-night laugh, every quiet moment between them, had been rewritten into something she couldn’t trust.
“They’re nothing to me,” Vi blurted, too fast, too rough. “Those girls? Just friends, just stupid fun. It’s not—hell, it’s not you.”
“Then why weren’t you here?”
Vi opened her mouth, but the words snagged on her tongue. “I…I…” That was all she managed before it crumbled into nothing.
Caitlyn tugged at her wrist, but Vi refused to let go, fingers tightening.
“I’m tired of excuses for why you’re not here, for why you avoid me” Caitlyn said, her voice cracking, stripped bare of all its polish. Her eyes burned, wet at the edges, and it was worse than any anger. “The truth, Vi. Please.”
The plea sank deep into Vi. She swallowed hard, the knot in her throat threatening to choke her. She’d never feared a fight, never flinched from blood or broken bones, but this—this truth Caitlyn was asking for—was something else.
“I was scared…I am scared,” Vi said at last, the words barely more than a rasp. She forced herself to keep going, to lay it bare. “Scared of screwing this up. Of screwing you up. You’re—” She exhaled hard, it hurt to say. “You’re the best thing in my life, Cait, and I keep thinking if I stay too close, I’ll ruin it. I’ll ruin you.”
Caitlyn’s brows knit, confusion warring with hurt, and Vi hurried on before she could lose her nerve.
“So I go out. I distract myself. I drink and party, because it’s easier than standing in front of you and admitting that you’re the one I can’t stop thinking about. That I’m terrified I don’t deserve you.”
Caitlyn looked down at her and said, “I know what I deserve, and I’ve seen it in you.”
Vi’s eyes flicked to the floor.
“Look at me,” Caitlyn said.
Reluctant, but unable to disobey, Vi did. And then Caitlyn leaned in, pressing her forehead against Vi’s. The world seemed to still, nothing left but the warmth of her skin, the steadiness of her breath.
Vi’s grip slipped from Caitlyn’s wrist, her hand falling uselessly to her side.
She felt Caitlyn’s breath ghost across her lips as she whispered, “I’m bossy and I don’t share.”
Vi’s heart gave a painful lurch. Her laugh was shaky. “Yeah, figured that out by now.”
Caitlyn’s lips curved, but only barely. “So if you want me, Vi, you’d better be sure. Because I won’t settle for scraps of your time. I won’t watch you run from me, night after night, and wonder if I matter less than another round of drinks or a stranger’s smile.”
Vi swallowed hard. Every instinct in her screamed to bolt, to crack a joke, to shift the weight crushing her chest. But Caitlyn’s forehead was still against hers, her breath still mingling with Vi’s, her eyes blazing so close she couldn’t look away.
And Vi realized she didn’t want to.
So she did something about it.
Vi closed the distance and pressed her lips to Caitlyn’s with the kind of desperate certainty she’d always avoided before. She didn’t know if it was an apology or a confession. But it was hungry and honest and, for the first time, Vi didn’t hold anything back.
Caitlyn made a sound—small, surprised, breaking into a whimper as she clutched fistfuls of Vi’s shirt, then slid up to tangle through Vi’s hair, pulling her closer. Their mouths collided and caught, Vi’s tongue darting to taste the salt of tears at the edge of Caitlyn’s lips, then the sweetness underneath. Caitlyn gasped against her, breath trembling as her lips parted for Vi, opening to her with a ferocity that made Vi’s knees want to buckle.
It was a mess, just like them—too much teeth and need, both of them trying to get closer, to crawl inside the other and never let go. Vi’s hands found Caitlyn’s jaw, cradling it as if the whole world might slip from her if she wasn’t gentle. She forced herself to breathe, to slow, but Caitlyn’s kiss only deepened, hungry in a way Vi had never tasted. It hit her full force: the feelings she’d dodged, deflected, drowned in liquor and laughter and neon lights.
The feeling of being known, and still wanted.
Caitlyn broke off the kiss first, chest heaving, cheeks flushed. She was shaking—Vi realized, not just from what they were doing, but from what it meant.
“I want to be the one who makes you feel safe," Caitlyn whispered.
Vi swallowed, pushed past that, and buried her face in Caitlyn’s neck, hands sliding down to Caitlyn’s waist, gripping hard enough to bruise. She pressed her lips to Caitlyn’s neck, inhaling the steady thud of her pulse, the soap and tea leaf scent caught in the cotton collar. Caitlyn’s breath went ragged as Vi’s hands explored, slipping under the edge of Caitlyn’s pajama shirt, knuckles brushing just above the waistband.
She hesitated, glanced up. “Is this—?”
Caitlyn’s answer was to grab Vi’s hands and yank them higher, palms pressed to bare skin.
She gripped Caitlyn’s hips, savoring the smooth skin, and pressed kisses along the underside of Caitlyn’s jaw, then down to her collarbone. Caitlyn’s back arched, head tilting to bare her throat, her hands threading in Vi’s hair and tugging her in closer.
All the while they were moving, until Vi stumbled, ass-first, onto the couch, then Caitlyn climbed over her like a queen taking her throne. Vi’s hands hovered, then wrapped around Caitlyn’s thighs, and Caitlyn’s own hands were already at the hem of her shirt, yanking it up. She peeled the top off and flung it aside, exposing perfection.
Vi’s breath caught, eyes wide, hands helpless for a second before they found their way up. She didn’t ask permission, just leaned in and bit, soft and then hard, at the line of Caitlyn’s shoulder, then down to the swell of her breast. Caitlyn gasped, threaded her fingers through Vi’s pink hair.
Vi’s mouth moved from one breast to the other, tongue circling, lips closing over Caitlyn’s nipple, drawing it in, feeling it stiffen against her tongue. She tasted salt and warmth and the edge of Caitlyn’s pulse beating wild beneath the skin. Her hands slid up Caitlyn’s back, mapping every inch.
Caitlyn rocked her hips, grinding down, and Vi almost lost it. She pulled back, just enough to meet Caitlyn’s eyes, and for a moment they were both just breathing, panting, staring at each other as if neither could believe this was happening—or maybe terrified it’d stop if they blinked.
Vi grinned, mouth wet, and used her thumb to tease Caitlyn’s nipple while her other hand slipped lower, palming Caitlyn’s ass through the thin cotton shorts. She squeezed, tugged, and Caitlyn’s body shuddered, her lips parted in a moan that seemed almost shocked out of her.
“Can I—?” Vi’s voice was rough, barely more than a growl as her hands slid to the waistband. She looked up, pupils wide, seeking permission.
Caitlyn’s hands found Vi’s jaw, palms cradling her face with an intensity that made Vi’s vision blur. “Touch me.”
Vi wasted no time. She gripped Caitlyn by the hips and spun her, the two of them tangled and breathless, until Caitlyn was on her back. She watched Caitlyn’s pupils dilate as Vi hooked her fingers into the waistband of those ridiculous poro shorts and, in a single pull, peeled both them and the panties down Caitlyn’s thighs, past her knees, and off.
She paused, half-kneeling over her, and just looked.
So much of Caitlyn’s life was crisp lines and tailored edges, composed for the world’s approval—a Kiramman. But here, Caitlyn’s hair was a dark, disheveled halo, her cheeks blotchy, her body unguarded and aching with need. The contrast did something to Vi’s insides, made her want to worship, to ruin.
“Fuck, Cait, you’re beautiful.”
Caitlyn’s only answer was to pull Vi down with a grip that brooked no argument, crashing their lips together. In the next breath, Caitlyn’s hands scrabbled at the hem of Vi’s shirt, fingertips trailing fire as they tugged it up. Vi had to break the kiss to let the shirt fly off, arms thrown overhead like a kid on the world’s best ride.
Caitlyn’s hands were already back, tracing Vi’s scars, the old burn just above her ribs, the pale white gash near her hip. When Caitlyn tried to work the clasp on her bra, Vi had to bite back a cocky “need help?”—she did, because Caitlyn’s hands were shaking, so Vi reached back herself and with a practiced flick she had the bra loose. Caitlyn slid it off Vi’s shoulders, her gaze drinking in the muscles, the flush rising between Vi’s breasts, the little crescent scar. She reached out and cupped Vi in both hands. Her thumbs brushed Vi’s nipples, tugging them to peaks until Vi shivered, jaw clenched as if holding back a growl.
“Pants off too.”
Caitlyn’s fingers fumbled at Vi’s pants, all the trembling purpose of someone picking the lock to paradise. She popped the button, thumbs sliding the zipper down, knuckles grazing Vi’s stomach, making every muscle clench beneath the touch. Vi’s hips lifted, her jeans dragging down over the shape of her thighs; Caitlyn hooked her fingers just long enough to draw them, and the black boxers beneath, off in one greedy motion.
The hunger between them vibrated in the air, a humming heat.
Vi pressed her palm to Caitlyn’s inner thigh, feeling the frantic drum of her pulse. Nothing in the world existed but the want in that touch—the bare skin so soft against Vi’s calluses, the searing heat between Caitlyn’s legs. Vi grinned, slow and wicked, dragging her mouth down Caitlyn’s sternum and over the flat of her stomach. She bit, and Caitlyn’s muscles jumped, breath shattering in her throat.
Vi nuzzled her way down, tongue flicking at the sweat-slick bone of Caitlyn’s hip before she paused, breath feathering over the dark, soft curls just above the trembling slit. “You want me to taste you, Cupcake? Want me to eat this pretty pussy?”
Caitlyn’s breath fractured into a whimper, hips lifting in invitation, the most desperate, honest yes Vi’d ever seen. She tangled her fingers in Vi’s hair, not guiding, just anchoring herself as if the couch might dissolve under her.
Vi spread Caitlyn open with both hands, shameless in her appreciation, and pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of her thigh. Then another, closer, lips and tongue suckling at the pulse to leave a lingering mark. Caitlyn’s thighs quivered, her whole body tuned so tight that Vi could have played her like an instrument.
Instead, she took her sweet time, letting her breath and tongue tease just at the edge of where Caitlyn needed her, savoring the little shudders and curses that spilled out every time she edged closer.
When Vi finally dragged her tongue up the center of the drenched slit, Caitlyn’s head snapped back, hands white-knuckled in Vi’s hair. “Shit—Vi!”
Vi smirked, locking eyes with her as she licked again, broad and flat, then circled the tip of her tongue around Caitlyn’s clit. She did it slow on purpose, made sure Caitlyn saw every second, every filthy flick of her tongue, every shameless grin. She needed Caitlyn to see, needed her to know how badly she’d been wanting this, even if she’d been a coward about it for months.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this. Every time you wore those stupid tiny shorts around the apartment, I’d just about lose my mind. Couldn’t even look at you without thinking about getting my mouth on you, tasting you, making you come.” She blew across Caitlyn’s pussy and smiled when she shuddered, hands tightening in Vi’s hair. “And you smell so good, Cait. Sweet as hell. So wet for me.”
Vi’s breath was hot, words vibrating against Caitlyn’s skin. “Christ, you’re dripping. Gonna ruin the goddamn couch.” She licked a long stripe, then sucked, hard, and Caitlyn arched, a desperate gasp ripped from her throat. “Bet these cushions are gonna smell like you for a week.”
Vi’s mouth hovered only a breath above Caitlyn, the heat of her breath making Caitlyn’s hips twitch, thighs straining around Vi’s shoulders. She peppered kisses over slick skin, then pulled back just enough to look up, chin slick, eyes dark and wild.
“You want my fingers?” Vi drawled. “Want me to fuck you, just like you dreamed about while I was out being a jackass?”
Caitlyn’s response was a strangled, “Yes,”—hardly even a word. The nails on Vi’s scalp dragged her back into place. Vi huffed a laugh, and then bit at Caitlyn’s inner thigh.
“You sure?” Vi teased.
A shiver rippled all the way up Caitlyn’s spine. “Vi, I swear, just—fuck, ah—”
Vi hooked two fingers, dragging them up through Caitlyn’s mess, coating the tips in her slick. She watched, transfixed, as Caitlyn’s eyes fluttered, chin tucked down just enough to witness everything Vi did. Then, with a slow, deliberate push, Vi slid inside.
Caitlyn’s body tensed, then opened; Vi’s hand was large, fingers thick, and Caitlyn’s breath caught as she stretched to take them. Vi worked her in careful, steady strokes, mouth never far from Caitlyn’s trembling core, tongue chasing the motion of her fingers, lips wrapping around Caitlyn’s clit with each upward curl.
“God,” Vi muttered in awe. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, Cait. Look at you.”
Caitlyn tried to hide her face, hands scrabbling for a pillow. Vi wasn’t having that. She surged up, grabbed the pillow, and flung it off the couch, then caught Caitlyn’s chin in one hand and kissed her, fingers still buried deep.
“Don't, please, I wanna see your face when you come.”
Caitlyn glared, then whimpered as Vi’s thumb found her clit, rubbing in tight, ruthless circles. She bit Vi’s lower lip, almost hard enough to draw blood, but Vi just grinned into the kiss and picked up speed, fingers fucking her in earnest now. Every sound that broke from Caitlyn’s mouth—every gasp, every high, keening “fuck, Vi, yes”—seemed to reverberate through the room.
Vi braced her other arm beside Caitlyn’s head, caging her in, pushing her down into the cushions. She watched Caitlyn’s face go slack with pleasure as she writhed, heels digging into the cushions.
“C’mon, Cait,” Vi growled. “You’re so close. Come for me, show me how much you need it.”
Caitlyn’s eyes rolled back, her spine arched until it nearly bowed her off the couch, and then she shattered with a cry that seemed too big for her body. She clamped down on Vi’s fingers, hips jerking as Vi held steady and fucked her through the aftershocks, never letting up until Caitlyn was spent and shaking in her arms.
Vi pressed her lips to Caitlyn’s forehead, murmuring nonsense—good job, you’re perfect, I’ve got you—until Caitlyn’s breathing evened out, until the trembling faded from her legs and the blue of her eyes was bright again.
They lay tangled for a long time, the quiet filled only by the sound of two hearts losing their frantic pace. Caitlyn had rolled onto Vi’s chest, cheek pressed flat, arms circling so tight Vi thought she might leave bruises behind. Vi didn’t dare move. She was achingly aware, suddenly, of every scar Caitlyn seen, of the thickness of her own thighs, the mess she’d made of Caitlyn.
She cleared her throat, voice hoarse. “You good?”
Caitlyn snorted, then sighed, her whole body soft and melted. “I’m breathing.” She tilted her chin, lips brushing Vi’s jaw, then her cheek, then hovering just at the corner of Vi’s mouth. “You didn’t ruin anything, you know.”
“I dunno,” she said, but this time the doubt was gone, buoyed up by the warmth pressed against her. “Feel like I might’ve ruined you pretty thoroughly just now.”
“I’ll recover.”
The hand that was splayed over Vi’s ribs slipped lower, nails grazing the flat of her stomach, pausing just above her bush. Caitlyn’s gaze flicked down, then up—a silent question with all the old imperious Kiramman force behind it.
Vi arched an eyebrow, playing at cocky even as her breath hitched. “If you’re about to ask if I need some kind of reward for good behavior—”
“—Do you not deserve a reward?”
Vi’s ears went hot, a flush streaking over her cheeks. She tried to shape her mouth into a lopsided grin, but it felt shaky, uncertain. “Heh. Uh, yeah? I guess. Go for it, Cupcake.”
Caitlyn’s fingers trailed down to her hip and then made a circuit along Vi’s thigh, barely grazing the edge of her pubic hair, the tease almost unbearable. She traced idle patterns—circles, then figure-eights, then a shameless heart, all while she nipped at Vi’s jawline.
Vi’s bravado crumbled with every torturous pass. Her thighs tensed and shivered, betraying how desperately she wanted to be touched, to be ruined exactly like she’d just ruined Caitlyn. But Caitlyn was merciless; she let her gaze linger on the rush of pink climbing Vi’s throat, the ragged edge of her breathing, the fists she’d balled in the couch cushions just to keep from begging outright.
“Look at you,” Caitlyn murmured, the words a bow wrapped tight around Vi’s heart. “Already so impatient. You’re not used to being the one who waits, are you?”
Caitlyn let her hand drift higher, fingers barely ghosting over the slick heat between Vi’s thighs, then pulling back with infuriating restraint. “There’s a word to get what you want, darling,” she whispered, her mouth grazing Vi’s ear, her tongue flicking at the lobe. “I want to hear you say it.”
Vi groaned, bucking up, but Caitlyn pinned her with nothing more than a palm flat on her stomach. Every instinct in Vi screamed to take, to flip the script, to grab and grind, but she was shaking—shaking because she realized she wanted it just like this, wanted to be held down and made to beg for Caitlyn’s touch.
“Fuck. Please.”
“Please what?” Caitlyn’s breath was hot and pitiless in her ear, her hand already easing down, fingertips grazing Vi’s slit. “Say it.”
“Please fuck me.” It came out raw, almost a sob, Vi’s hips rolling up to chase the contact.
Caitlyn made a noise—a purr, a laugh, an exclamation of total satisfaction. “Good girl.”
The words detonated inside Vi, set every nerve haywire. Then Caitlyn’s fingers dipped between her thighs. “You’re so wet already. Did you get off on making me come, Vi? Did you like how desperate I sounded?” The fingers pressed in, not deep, just parting Vi’s folds, and Vi’s hips jerked up, seeking more. Caitlyn didn’t give it. She stroked slow, lazy lines, feather-light, cruel in their restraint. “My strong girl, acting so tough, but now you’re shaking for me. Do you want my fingers?”
Vi wanted them so badly her teeth ached from clenching.
“You put on such a show for the world. All that swagger. But here, you’re mine. I see who you are, Violet, and I know what you need.”
She wanted to say something mean or hot or clever, anything but what came out: a whimpering, “Please, Daddy.”
The air went still.
Caitlyn froze against her, pupils blooming wide, the tips of her fingers digging into Vi’s thigh.
Vi’s face flamed and she wanted to die. She’d never said it out loud before, not to anyone, not even as a joke, not even the times she’d tried to practice it in the dark when she was alone and desperate and hating herself for it.
She tried to backpedal, stammer a joke, but Caitlyn was already on her, lips crushing into Vi’s, tongue claiming, her fingers sliding through slick folds.
“Say it again,” Caitlyn ordered.
Vi blinked, shivering, and managed, “Daddy, please—”
This time Caitlyn didn’t freeze. She surged forward and pushed two fingers inside. She didn’t just fuck her, she owned her—everything about the angle, the way her fingers curled, the slide of her palm over Vi’s clit.
“I love hearing you beg,” Caitlyn growled in her ear. “All those months you wanted this, didn’t you? ”
Vi nodded, unable to form words, only a strangled “uh-huh, fuck, fuck, don’t stop, please—”
Caitlyn kissed Vi’s jaw, her lips, her temple, murmuring, “That’s it. That’s my good girl. You’re Daddy’s good girl, aren’t you?” Caitlyn’s thumb rubbed against Vi’s clit, fingers curling, knowing exactly where to find her softest, helpless places. “Answer me.”
“Ye—Yes.”
“That’s right. Mine,” Caitlyn hissed. The rhythm switched, careful and possessive now, no rush, only the dark satisfaction of drawing out every shudder and whine from Vi.
Vi’s whole body was trembling, tension coiling like a spring, her thighs caging Caitlyn’s hand with an involuntary flex. She’d been fucked before, fingered sloppy in the back rooms of bars, groped in alleys and bathrooms, but nothing had ever felt like this—like being cared for. Caitlyn’s fingers curled just so, never losing that delicious pressure, her thumb keeping a relentless beat on Vi’s clit. She never pushed too hard, only circled, pressed, eased off just when Vi was about to lose it, then ratcheted back up until Vi’s head tipped back and a low moan tore out of her.
“Shhh,” Caitlyn whispered, lips tracing Vi’s cheek. “It’s okay, baby. Relax. Daddy’s got you.” That velvety voice melted Vi, every muscle slackening beneath Caitlyn’s hands.
Caitlyn’s fingers fucked her deep and slow, a luxurious, unhurried pace. Vi’s legs opened wider, inviting more. Her mind emptied out entirely, nothing but the pulse of pleasure, the bright burn building.
Vi heard her own voice—raw, whimpering, unrecognizable—babbling nonsense: “More, don’t stop, right there, oh, fuck, please—” She arched into Caitlyn’s hand, chasing every thrust, shuddering at the way Caitlyn’s palm pressed down and made her feel so small and helpless. She clung to Caitlyn’s shoulder, nails digging in.
She was close, so close, and Caitlyn must have known. “Come for me, baby. Daddy wants to feel you come all over her fingers.”
Vi’s orgasm crested with surprising softness—no white-knuckled scream or guttural expletive, just a deep, soul-wracking shudder that left her clutching at Caitlyn, cheek pressed wet to Caitlyn’s collarbone. She shook, mouth open and soundless, a low whine escaping only when Caitlyn eased her fingers and milked the aftershocks with loving strokes. The gentleness undid her. Vi gasped against Caitlyn’s skin, holding on as if she could drown in the warmth, in the safety, in the permission to fall apart.
“That’s it,” Caitlyn murmured, her lips moving at Vi’s temple, her voice a pretty incantation. She stroked Vi’s hair, rocked her as the tremors faded. “Good girl. You did so well.”
A fresh wave of heat crawled up Vi’s face, humiliation and something very much like pride tangled in her chest. She buried her face in Caitlyn’s shoulder, mortified at the sounds she’d made, the words that had slipped out. The afterglow wasn’t what she’d expected—it wasn’t light or floaty, but heavy, as if the weight of what she’d confessed stuck to her skin.
Vi had never been so exposed.
Caitlyn held her tight, fingers stroking the sweat-damp hair at the nape of Vi’s neck. “What’s wrong?”
Vi mumbled something into Caitlyn’s collarbone, the words muffled and useless. Caitlyn pulled back, cupped Vi’s face in both hands, and searched her eyes.
“Vi?”
Vi couldn’t meet her gaze.
“Did I hurt you?” Caitlyn’s voice softened, careful now, like she was picking her way through broken glass. “Did we go too far? I—”
Vi shook her head quickly, words tumbling out. “No. No, it’s not that.”
“Then please, tell me what’s going on. Don’t shut me out.”
Vi dragged in a shaky breath, eyes darting away again. “The, uh… the daddy stuff.”
A deep blush bloomed across Caitlyn’s cheeks. “Oh,” she said, almost whispering. Her fingers twitched against Vi’s skin but didn’t let go. “Did you… not like it?”
“No, I did. That’s the problem. I liked it way too much.” Vi squeezed her eyes shut. “It’s just—I’ve never… I haven’t…” Her throat bobbed, struggling to drag the words into existence. “I’ve never said anything like that. To anyone. Ever. And it just came out, and you—you went with it.”
Her face burned hotter. She felt fifteen again, caught in something she didn’t understand, but this time there was no sneer, no fistfight to crawl into, just Caitlyn’s steady hands and that searching gaze.
“I thought it was hot.”
Vi’s eyes snapped open, shock cutting through the haze of embarrassment. “You…what?”
A flicker of nerves flashed across Caitlyn’s face, but it didn’t last. When she spoke again her tone carried more weight, more certainty. “I liked it. I liked being your Daddy.” The way she said it sent a strange shiver through Vi.
Caitlyn leaned in, pressing a kiss to Vi’s forehead—maybe the softest touch she had ever received.
Caitlyn stroked her fingers through Vi’s hair. “You’re safe with me.” Then she repeated it as if Vi might need convincing, each word a gentle lashing to keep her moored. “Safe, Violet.”
Vi felt raw, gutted, like every shield had been stripped away and there was nothing left but need. She pressed into Caitlyn’s chest, greedy for the comfort. For a long time, neither of them moved, Caitlyn’s hands gentle in her hair, her breath slow and deep.
Eventually, Caitlyn shifted, guiding Vi’s chin up until their eyes met again. “I like you like this,” she murmured. “All undone. My tough girl melting for me.” She ran her thumb along Vi’s jaw. “I want to take care of you. I want you to let me.” She made it sound like a promise, a privilege, not some burden or joke.
Vi blinked, disoriented. “You… wanna take care of me?” It sounded so alien, so backwards—Vi was the one who protected, who fixed, who took punches so the world didn’t lay a finger on the people she loved. No one had ever wanted to care for her, not really; they wanted her strength, her hardness, the way she hit back and never bled where anyone could see.
Caitlyn nodded, blue eyes unyielding. “More than anything.” She said it simply, without a trace of doubt, as if it were the most obvious truth in the world. “I want you, Vi. All of you…you don’t have to pretend with me. Not ever.” Her smile was gentle, almost bashful, and Vi thought for a wild second that maybe Caitlyn was scared too.
Vi was adrift, her sense of self shifting beneath her. There was a deep aching pleasure in letting herself be seen—really seen—even if it shook her foundation loose.
“I’m sorry,” Vi whispered. “I’ve been a real shit. You waited for me and—”
Caitlyn pressed a finger to Vi’s lips, then replaced it with her mouth, a silent hush that made Vi’s apology melt away.
“You are a shit,” Caitlyn murmured, a pleased hum vibrating in her throat. “You’re stubborn and reckless and you drive me absolutely mad, but I want you to be mine.” She let the words settle, her gaze never wavering. “But if you want out, say so now. Because if you give yourself to me, I’ll never let you go.”
Vi grinned, all teeth and nerves. “What if I don’t wanna get away? What if I want you to ruin me every night?”
Caitlyn laughed and something about the sound made Vi’s heart ache and soar at once. “You can’t joke your way out of this,” Caitlyn said, fingers finding Vi’s chin again, tipping it upward so their lips hovered close. “Say you’re mine, Violet. Say it for real.”
A lump the size of a fist lodged in Vi’s throat; she swallowed, steadying herself. “I’m yours. Caitlyn Kiramman, I’m so fuckin’ yours,” she whispered, and was only a little bit surprised when her voice cracked.
Caitlyn kissed her, but it wasn’t hungry like before—this was a stamp, a seal. Then she pulled back with her nose brushing Vi’s as she smiled.
“Good girl.”