The Contract (Chapter 4)

Warning - Explicit Content Ahead!

By: NictesWrath

The door to Miranda and Andrea's bedroom closed behind them with a soft click, and the tension that had been simmering in the car followed them into the quiet luxury of the suite. The air felt thick, charged with the anticipation of what was to come. The muted lighting of the bedroom cast long shadows across the plush carpet, the elegant simplicity of the space providing the perfect backdrop for the chaos that was about to unfold.

Serena's hand was long on Andrea's back, her touch light but deliberate, a promise of what was to come. Andrea's pulse raced as Serena guided her further into the bedroom, her eyes dark with intent. In the corner of the room, Miranda and Emily followed close behind, their presence a quiet reminder that this wasn't just about the two of them—this was something more, something deeper, that involved all four of them.

Miranda's hand also rested lightly on Emily's lower back, a subtle but possessive gesture that sent a shiver down Andrea's spine. There was an unspoken understanding between them all—Miranda was in charge, and the rest of them, even Serena, would follow her lead.

Serena's hands moved lower, teasing the hem of her dress. "You're so responsive," Serena murmured, her voice low and intimate as she leaned in, her breath warm against Andrea's neck. "I could feel it in the car. You're ready for more, aren't you?"

Andrea nodded, her breath catching in her throat as Serena's lips brushed against her ear, a soft moan escaping her lips. The tension between them was electric, every touch, every word pushing Andrea further into the haze of desire that had been building all night.

Behind them, Miranda's voice cut through the quiet, calm and authoritative. "Emily," she said softly, her tone carrying an edge of command that left no room for hesitation. "Come here."

Emily moved without question, stepping toward Miranda with an almost reverent obedience. There was a quiet intensity in her eyes as she approached, her body language signaling her submission to Miranda's will. Miranda's gaze swept over Emily, her eyes dark with desire as she took control of the moment.

Miranda's fingers grazed the collar of Emily's shirt, her touch feather-light but filled with intent. The room seemed to still as Miranda's hands moved with deliberate slowness, tracing the fabric of Emily's blouse. She didn't rush. Every movement was thoughtful, as though undressing Emily was an intimate ritual, one to be savored, not hurried.

Emily's breath hitched as Miranda's fingers slipped over the first button, the subtle pop of the fabric releasing filling the quiet room. Miranda's eyes never left Emily's face, watching her reaction with a quiet intensity.

Another button undone, and another. Miranda's hands moved with precision, the slow, sensual unbuttoning turning what could have been a simple act into something far more intimate. 

"You're always so proper," Miranda murmured, her voice low and velvety as she worked her way down the front of Emily's blouse. "But there's something beautiful about watching you let go."

It seemed to take forever for the older womans' fingers to finally reach the last button, and she paused for a moment, her eyes lingering on Emily's bare skin now exposed by the parted blouse. Slowly, deliberately, Miranda pushed the fabric off Emily's shoulders, her fingers trailing lightly over the redhead's collarbone as she did. The blouse slipped down Emily's arms, the silk brushing against her skin in a way that made Emily's breath catch in her throat.

The shirt pooled at Emily's feet, forgotten, as Miranda stepped closer, her hand resting lightly on Emily's shoulder. "Beautiful," Miranda whispered, her voice soft but filled with the weight of her admiration. She leaned in, her lips brushing lightly against Emily's ear as she spoke. "You're perfect like this."

Emily's pulse raced, her body responding to the gentle praise. Her former boss's fingers found the clasp of Emily's bra, unhooking it with practiced ease, the tension in the straps releasing in an instant.

Miranda didn't rush. She slid the bra straps down Emily's arms with the same careful slowness she had used with the blouse, her touch reverent as if each piece of clothing removed was a gift being unwrapped. The bra fell away, and Emily shivered as the cool air of the room met her newly exposed skin.

Miranda's fingers trailed over Emily's bare shoulders, her touch light but deliberate, her gaze never leaving Emily's face. Emily's breath came in shallow bursts, her body trembling beneath the weight of Miranda's gaze, her skin tingling with the knowledge that she was completely under Miranda's control now.

With a quiet hum of approval, Miranda's hands moved lower, finding the waistband of Emily's skirt. She took her time, her fingers tracing the fabric, feeling the tension in the zipper as she slowly, deliberately slid it down. The sound of the zipper lowering seemed louder than it should have in the quiet room, a soft but unmistakable reminder of the slow stripping of control.

Miranda knelt as she guided the skirt down Emily's legs, her hands brushing against the smooth skin of Emily's thighs as she lowered the garment. The skirt slipped to the floor, and Miranda's fingers traced the inside of Emily's thighs for just a moment.

Emily's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding wildly as she looked down at Miranda—Miranda Priestly—kneeling before her, her touch light but commanding. The sight was overwhelming, too much for her to fully comprehend. Miranda, always the one in control, always the one standing above them all, was kneeling at her feet.

The younger woman's body swayed slightly as her legs threatened to give out. Miranda's eyes flicked upward, catching the subtle shift in Emily's stance, her fingers tightening gently on her thighs to steady her.

"Easy," Miranda murmured, her voice calm, but with that familiar edge of command. Her fingers pressed lightly into Emily's skin, grounding her, giving her something to hold onto. "You're trembling."

Emily's knees buckled again, and this time, she couldn't hide the soft gasp that followed, her body nearly collapsing under the intensity of the moment. The weight of Miranda's attention—the feeling of her hands on her, the sight of her kneeling—was too much. Emily had always admired Miranda from a distance, had always been in awe of her authority, her presence. But to have her here, so close, so focused, was a dream made real.

"I—I'm sorry," Emily whispered, her voice shaky, her legs barely holding her up.

Miranda's lips curved into a small, knowing smile as she looked up at Emily, her hands still resting firmly on her thighs, steadying her. "There's nothing to apologize for," Miranda said softly, her voice filled with quiet reassurance. "But I won't let you fall. Not here."

The combination of Miranda's soothing words and the possessiveness of her touch made Emily's head spin. Her body swayed again, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts, and she instinctively reached out, her fingers brushing against Miranda's shoulder in a desperate attempt to steady herself.

Miranda's grip tightened just slightly, her fingers digging into Emily's soft skin as she rose to her feet, never breaking eye contact. Her presence felt overwhelming in the best way, as if Miranda was anchoring Emily to the moment, refusing to let her lose control.

"You don't have to stand," Miranda said quietly, her voice gentle but with that ever-present note of authority. "I want you to feel this, Emily. To understand what it means."

Miranda's fingers trailed lightly over Emily's trembling thighs, moving upward with deliberate slowness, tracing the soft curves of her hips as she stood in front of her. Emily's breath hitched, her body responding to Miranda's touch with a mixture of desire and vulnerability that left her feeling exposed and raw. The tremor in her legs refused to ease, as if her body couldn't quite process the intensity of what was happening.

Miranda's gaze softened, though the heat in her eyes remained. "You're shaking," she murmured, her lips curving into a small smile. "Do you need to sit?"

Emily swallowed hard, her voice failing her as she nodded, her legs feeling like they could give out at any moment. The reality of Miranda's hands on her, the weight of the intimacy between them, was making her feel lightheaded, unsteady. Miranda seemed to sense the shift in Emily's body, the way she swayed just slightly, as though she were on the verge of collapsing into her.

Without another word, Miranda guided her gently to the bed, her hands never leaving Emily's body, her touch both commanding and comforting. Emily's legs buckled as she sat, her body sinking into the soft mattress, her breathing still erratic as she tried to catch her breath.

Miranda knelt again, her eyes locked on Emily's as she slowly ran her fingers up Emily's thighs, the pressure of her touch enough to make Emily's breath hitch once more. Miranda's hands were steady, confident, as she knelt between Emily's legs, her movements slow and deliberate, as though savoring the anticipation that had been building between them all night.

Emily couldn't stop trembling, her body betraying her desire to remain composed. But Miranda's calm, steady presence only heightened her need, making it impossible to hide how deeply she was affected.

"You're doing well," Miranda said softly, her voice a low murmur as she leaned in, her lips brushing against the inside of Emily's thigh. "Don't be afraid to let go."

Emily's breath hitched at Miranda's words, the warmth of her lips against her skin sending a shiver through her. She felt the familiar tremble in her legs again, her body aching to surrender completely, but still clinging to some last vestige of control. Miranda's presence was all-consuming.

Across the room, Serena glanced over from where she and Andrea were tangled together on the chaise lounge, both down to their undergarments, their clothes scattered across the floor. Serena's dark eyes flicked toward Emily, a gentle concern breaking through the haze of desire that had filled the room.

"Is she doing all right?" Serena's voice was soft, low, as she addressed Miranda, though her eyes lingered on her partner. There was something protective in the way Serena's gaze softened as she watched Emily tremble beneath Miranda's touch, as though she was checking in on her, making sure she was okay despite the intensity of the moment.

Andrea, lying beside Serena, her chest rising and falling rapidly, turned her head to look as well. She was flushed, her body thrumming with anticipation, but there was a brief flicker of concern in her eyes as she noticed Emily's trembling form.

Miranda didn't look up, but the subtle smile that played on her lips reassured them both. "She's doing exactly what she needs to be doing," Miranda murmured, her voice calm but filled with authority as her fingers continued to trace delicate patterns on Emily's skin. "Isn't that right, Emily?"

Emily's breath came in short, shallow gasps as she struggled to find her voice. The tension building inside her was unbearable, but the soft press of Miranda's lips against her thigh, the warmth of her hands steadying her, kept her grounded. She nodded, her head tilting back slightly as she surrendered to the overwhelming sensation of Miranda's touch.

"Yes," Emily whispered, her voice barely audible, her body trembling with the effort of holding on. "I'm— I'm okay."

Serena's gaze softened, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she leaned in closer to Andrea, brushing a lock of hair away from her flushed face. "Good," Serena murmured, her voice low, intimate, as her hand lingered on Andrea's cheek, tracing the outline of her jaw. "Because it's only going to get better from here."

With a graceful yet commanding motion, Serena took Andrea's hand, her fingers warm and firm as she guided her off the chaise lounge. Andrea's heart raced as she followed Serena toward the bed, where Miranda was still delicately leaving soft kisses along the insides of Emily's trembling thighs. The scene before her was hypnotic, filled with an intimacy that drew Andrea in even deeper.

"You're going to love this, querida," Serena husked, her voice rich with promise as she guided Andrea onto the bed. The heat between them was palpable, and Andrea felt a shiver run down her spine as Serena positioned her so close to Emily that their skin brushed together. She could feel the tremor in Emily's muscles.

With Serena's fingers tracing delicate lines across her skin, and Miranda's gaze heavy with intent, it was clear—the night had only just begun, and what was to come would change everything.

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Preview of next chapter:

Miranda knelt between Emily's legs, her lips soft and reverent against the inside of her thighs. Each touch was a gentle caress, an offering, as her tongue flicked delicately over Emily's skin, savoring the subtle tremors she elicited with each kiss. Emily's breaths came in shallow, uneven bursts, her chest rising and falling as the tension built.

Beside them, Serena was seated firmly on Andrea's face, her thighs framing Andrea's head like a queen enthroned, her hips rolling gently as Andrea's tongue worked with careful precision. The slow, deliberate movements of Andrea's tongue made Serena hum in approval, her fingers lazily tracing circles around her own breasts, squeezing and teasing as she watched the scene unfolding next to them.

Serena's eyes, dark and full of heat, flicked between Emily and Miranda, a small smile curving her lips as she noted the way Emily's body responded under Miranda's expert attention. Emily's skin gleamed with a light sheen of sweat, her muscles trembling as she hovered on the edge of pleasure, her body taut and expectant.

"Oh, Emily," Serena murmured, her voice a low, rich hum that carried through the room like a quiet vibration. "You look so beautiful like this."