Volume 1

By: NictesWratch

The lights of Deborah's Vegas mansion were low, the last remnants of sunset casting the room in a soft, amber glow. Ava paced the living room, her usual biting sarcasm hiding a lingering nervousness she hadn't quite managed to shake. She knew it, too. Her banter had been off—Deborah had noticed. But Ava was more experienced now, she told herself, more in control of how she handled the woman who could make or break her career, or her heart, depending on the day.

"God, could you be more of a cliché?" Ava threw her hands up, pacing dramatically as she glanced at the towering windows, the floor-to-ceiling curtains Deborah had installed for 'the perfect blackout.' "The tortured artist living in her own ivory tower, refusing to listen to anyone. I'm getting serious Norma Desmond vibes."

Deborah, who was seated on the edge of a luxurious velvet couch with one leg crossed elegantly over the other, didn't even flinch at the jab. Instead, she took a slow sip from her glass of wine, her fingers wrapped casually around the crystal stem. Her cool gaze followed Ava's movements like a hawk.

"I'm big enough to admit when someone's funny, Ava. But that? It wasn't funny." Deborah's voice cut through the air, smooth as silk but with the familiar, dismissive tone Ava had come to expect whenever Deborah felt superior. "Actually, it's just a little sad."

Ava stopped pacing, her lips pulling into a thin line, more than aware of the deliberate provocation. The problem was Deborah had been doing this all day. Since their last gig, she'd been more of a nightmare than usual, barking at her over every tiny thing, making those snide little comments. But Ava had experience now. She'd learned a thing or two about how to handle Deborah's ego and deflect it with a sharp tongue of her own.

"Oh, you're one to talk about 'sad.' Look at you, sipping wine on your couch, throwing out recycled insults like you're still the hot thing in this town." Ava shot her a smirk, her eyebrow arching in that perfect mix of sass and challenge. "I mean, really? Are you sure you're not the one just a little threatened here?"

Deborah's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, there was silence, thick and weighty between them. It was the kind of silence that stretched long enough to make Ava shift her weight from one foot to the other, her confidence just beginning to crack. Deborah didn't react the way other people did. Ava had noticed that in their first few weeks of working together—Deborah never flinched, never backed down, and never gave the satisfaction of a quick retort. Instead, she liked to let the tension build, to make you feel the weight of her power.

"I'm not threatened by anyone, least of all you," Deborah said slowly, setting her wine down on the glass coffee table in front of her. She stood, unfolding herself from the couch with a grace that belied her age, moving like a panther stalking its prey. "But I am tired of listening to you yap."

Ava swallowed, feeling a flicker of something—not fear, exactly, but an awareness of how easily Deborah could dismantle her. Even after all this time, she wasn't fully immune to the woman's power. The dominance, the control Deborah exerted, wasn't just in her career or her words. It was in the way she moved, the way she looked at Ava like she was something to be toyed with, to be conquered if necessary.

Ava's bravado didn't falter, though. "Right. Well, good luck shutting me up. It's not like you've ever—"

"Shut up, Ava." Deborah's voice wasn't raised, but it didn't need to be. There was a weight behind the command that made Ava's mouth snap shut, against her will. Deborah moved closer, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor, and Ava stood rooted to the spot, her heart kicking up a notch. This was new. Deborah had always been sharp, biting, and demanding—but this level of intensity, the heat in her eyes, the way she seemed to be drinking Ava in with every slow step, that was… unexpected.

Ava's mouth went dry, her words scrambling to form as Deborah closed the distance between them. "You—this is ridiculous," Ava managed to say, though her voice lacked the fire it had moments ago. "You can't just tell me to—"

Deborah was in front of her now, close enough that Ava could smell the faint, expensive perfume Deborah always wore—something floral but with a hint of spice, like her personality in scent form. Before Ava could finish whatever half-baked retort was forming in her head, Deborah's hand shot up, fingers wrapping around Ava's wrist, firm but not painful. She tugged her forward, with just enough force to make Ava stumble slightly, their bodies now only inches apart.

"I can do whatever I want, Ava," Deborah said, her voice low, almost a purr. There was that unmistakable glint in her eye, the one Ava had seen only a few times before, and usually when Deborah was about to land a devastating punchline. But this wasn't a joke. Or if it was, Ava was now the punchline.

Ava opened her mouth to fire back, but Deborah's hand was already on her, firm and commanding. Her grip slid from Ava's wrist to her jaw, tilting her face up just slightly, so that their eyes met head-on. The tension that had been simmering between them for months, maybe years, was suddenly palpable, electric. Deborah's thumb brushed against Ava's bottom lip, not gently, but with a pressure that sent a jolt of something warm and unfamiliar straight through her.

Ava's breath hitched, her bravado slipping further with each second of silence. The usual witty comebacks were stuck somewhere in her throat, replaced by a growing heat that she couldn't quite ignore.

Deborah smirked, her gaze flicking down to Ava's lips before slowly making its way back up to her eyes. "You talk too much, you know that?"

Ava's heart raced, but she managed a scoff, trying to claw back some of the control that was quickly slipping through her fingers. "Well, it's not like you ever shut up either, so—"

Before she could finish, Deborah's lips were on hers. Not soft or tentative, but demanding, like everything else she did. The kiss was fierce, a clash of wills and dominance, and Ava found herself gasping against Deborah's mouth, her mind reeling at the suddenness of it.

Deborah didn't give her a chance to react, her fingers tightening in Ava's hair as she deepened the kiss, her body pressing against hers with a force that left no room for resistance. Ava's hands came up instinctively, gripping Deborah's waist as she kissed her back, unable to stop herself. It was too much—too fast, too intense—but also exactly what she had wanted for so long, buried beneath the layers of sarcasm and deflection.

Deborah pulled back just enough to let her lips graze Ava's ear, her breath hot against her skin as she whispered, "Finally found a way to shut you up."

Ava's knees nearly buckled, her body reacting faster than her mind. "Is this… your way of admitting defeat?" she managed to say, her voice more breathless than she wanted it to be.

Deborah let out a low chuckle, her hand sliding from Ava's jaw down to her neck, her fingers tracing the delicate line of her collarbone. "I don't lose, Ava," she whispered, her lips brushing against Ava's ear. "Especially not to you."

Ava's retort died on her lips as Deborah's hand slipped lower, her fingers grazing the edge of her shirt, teasing just beneath the fabric. Ava's skin burned where Deborah touched her, a heat pooling in her stomach that she couldn't ignore, even if she tried.

And she wasn't trying anymore. She couldn't. This was happening—whatever this was—and for the first time in a long time, Ava found herself speechless, helpless under the force of Deborah's…

Ava blinked awake, her mind sluggish and foggy as her consciousness floated somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. The room was dim, only the faintest sliver of early morning light creeping through the curtains. She could feel the soft sheets against her skin, the weight of a warm body next to her, and the unmistakable sensation of fingers brushing lightly along her side, just beneath the fabric of her sleep shirt.

For a second, Ava thought she was still dreaming. It had to be a dream, right? One of those dreams. The kind she'd been having embarrassingly often since she started taking gummies to help her sleep, and always about—

"You awake, or are you still busy having your little dream about me?" Deborah's voice cut through the fog in her brain, dry and teasing. "Or was it one of the Teletubbies again?"

Ava jerked fully awake at that, heat flooding her face. She turned her head just enough to see Deborah, who was propped up on one elbow, looking down at her with a smirk. Her hand was still tracing slow circles on Ava's side, light and almost absentminded, but there was nothing casual about the look in her eyes.

"It was one time," Ava muttered, rolling onto her back and pulling the covers up higher, though it did nothing to hide the blush creeping up her neck. "And it was only the yellow one."

Deborah let out a low, throaty laugh, clearly enjoying herself. "Laa-Laa, right? The one with the ball?"

Ava groaned, covering her face with her hands. "Don't act like you know their names."

Deborah shrugged, her fingers dipping lower, just brushing the skin beneath Ava's belly button. "I'm a woman of many talents, Ava. Knowing how to ruin your childhood memories is just one of them." She paused, her voice dropping into that dangerously teasing tone. "But that doesn't answer my question. Was I featured in this one, or should I expect to see Laa-Laa waltzing in here any minute?"

Ava's eyes shot open, and she peeked through her fingers, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Yes, Deborah. You were the star. Congratulations. You've officially edged out a creepy, soft puppet from a kids' show. Must be a career highlight."

Deborah chuckled, leaning in closer, her breath warm against Ava's ear. "Is that so?" she murmured, her hand now sliding fully under Ava's shirt, her touch sending little sparks of electricity dancing across Ava's skin. "Tell me more about this dream of yours, then. I'd love to hear how I was involved."

Ava bit her lip, trying to hold back a laugh, but she couldn't help it. Only Deborah would turn her having a weird, gummy-induced sex dream into something she could gloat over. She wasn't going to give her the satisfaction, though. Not this time. "You know," Ava said, her voice laced with fake sweetness, "I don't think you'd be that interested. It wasn't one of your best performances."

Deborah's hand stilled for a moment, and Ava could practically feel the shift in the air. She'd poked the bear. The glint in Deborah's eye returned, sharper now, more playful, but there was something else underneath it too. Something darker, more intense.

"Oh, really?" Deborah purred, her hand moving again, this time with a little more purpose, her fingers tracing a path up Ava's stomach. "And here I was, thinking I'd done such a good job at shutting you up last night. Clearly, I didn't try hard enough."

Ava's breath hitched as Deborah's fingers skimmed the edge of her bra, the contact light but full of promise. Ava always fell asleep half dressed when she took gummies. She swallowed, forcing herself to keep her voice steady. "Maybe you just didn't have enough time to make a lasting impression."

Deborah smirked, her lips brushing against Ava's neck as she spoke. "Oh, I've got all the time in the world, sweetheart. And trust me, by the time I'm done, you'll be begging for me to stop."

Ava's heart raced, her pulse thudding in her ears as Deborah's hand slipped higher, her thumb brushing teasingly over the thin fabric of her bra. She was close now, her body half-draped over Ava's, and for a second, Ava forgot how to breathe.

"Bold words," Ava managed to say, her voice shaky but defiant. She turned her head to meet Deborah's gaze, her lips pulling into a smirk of her own. "You know, for someone who couldn't even outlast a talking yellow blob with a handbag."

Deborah raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by Ava's attempt to keep up. "Careful, Ava. Keep running that smart mouth of yours, and I'll have no choice but to find new ways to silence it."

Ava's stomach flipped, and she couldn't help the grin that spread across her face. "You promise?"

Deborah's laugh was low, almost a growl, and before Ava could fire back another sarcastic comment, Deborah's mouth was on hers, hot and demanding, her body pressing Ava into the mattress with a force that made her head spin. There was no hesitation, no softness—just the same sharp, biting intensity that defined everything Deborah did.

Ava kissed her back just as fiercely, her hands tangling in Deborah's hair, pulling her closer, deeper. She could feel Deborah's smirk against her lips, the unmistakable satisfaction of someone who knew she was winning.

Deborah's hand slipped lower again, this time with more urgency, her fingers dipping beneath the waistband of Ava's sleep shorts, and Ava gasped, her body arching instinctively into the touch. Her mind was spinning, her senses overwhelmed by the heat, the pressure, the feel of Deborah's fingers teasing and exploring with expert precision.

"You're always so full of yourself," Ava breathed against Deborah's lips, trying to keep her voice steady even as her body betrayed her. "Always so sure you've got everything under control."

Deborah didn't stop, her lips curving into a wicked grin. "That's because I do have everything under control, sweetheart." Her voice was low, dripping with confidence. "Especially you."

Ava's heart skipped a beat, and she opened her mouth to respond, but the words were lost. The first touch of Deborah's fingers against her sent a wave of warmth spreading through her, slow and intense. It wasn't sharp or sudden; it was a smooth, steady rise of pleasure that made Ava's heart race in her chest. The heat between her legs grew as Deborah's fingers explored, stroking gently, as if she were savoring every second, every reaction from Ava.

Ava's lips parted, her breath coming in soft gasps, and she found herself leaning into the touch, her body instinctively seeking more. She could feel Deborah smiling against her neck, clearly pleased with Ava's response, but there were no words between them now—just the slow, building tension, the pull of something inevitable between them.

Deborah's fingers moved with practiced ease, sliding through the wetness into her with the kind of smoothness that made Ava feel like she was floating, her whole body reacting to the rhythm Deborah set. It was slow at first—teasing, almost—her fingers brushing against her without pushing too far, coaxing Ava's body into a state of heightened awareness. Each stroke was a promise, the heat growing steadily with every passing second, and Ava could feel her body starting to tremble in response.

Ava's breathing grew heavier, and she turned her head slightly, lips brushing against Deborah's hair as she tried to maintain some level of control. But the way Deborah touched her made it impossible to think, impossible to do anything but feel.

Deborah's hand pressed more firmly now, her fingers moving in a steady rhythm that matched the building pulse of pleasure deep inside Ava. The younger woman's hips moved of their own accord, following the rhythm her partner had set, and with every passing moment, the sensation grew stronger, the heat between her legs becoming a deep, insistent need.

"God…" Ava gasped, her voice barely above a whisper as Deborah's fingers worked their magic, each movement sending a fresh wave of heat flooding through her.

Deborah's lips curled into a smirk against Ava's neck. "That's it," she murmured softly, her voice low and confident, the teasing edge still present but softened by the intimacy of the moment. "Let it happen, Ava."

Ava's body was on fire, every nerve alight with sensation as Deborah's fingers kept moving, steady and relentless, pushing her toward the breaking point. There was no rush, no frantic pace—just the slow, smooth buildup that left Ava feeling like she was going to unravel at any moment. The pressure between her legs was unbearable, the need for release coiling tighter and tighter with every movement of Deborah's hand.

Ava's hands clenched the sheets, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she felt herself slipping over the edge. "Deborah," she whispered, her voice trembling, and that was all it took.

Deborah's fingers pressed just a little harder, her movements more insistent but still perfectly smooth, each stroke building on the last until the tension snapped, and Ava came undone beneath her. The orgasm hit her in slow, rolling waves, each one crashing over her with a force that left her breathless, her body shaking with the intensity of it.

Ava's head fell back against the pillow, her eyes fluttering closed as the pleasure washed over her, leaving her completely and utterly spent. Deborah didn't stop, her fingers moving in slow, gentle strokes, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from Ava's trembling body.

When it was finally too much, Ava reached out, her fingers finding Deborah's hand and stilling it, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. "I—holy shit," she managed, her voice barely audible in the quiet room.

Deborah leaned in closer, her smirk audible in her voice as she whispered, "What was that about Laa-Laa again?"

Ava let out a breathless laugh, her body still tingling in the aftermath. "Yeah, well…" She paused to catch her breath, a smirk tugging at her lips. "I think you might've finally outdone the yellow Teletubby."

Deborah chuckled, her lips grazing Ava's ear as she spoke. "High praise, indeed."

Ava's eyes fluttered open, her body still trembling slightly as she turned her head to look at Deborah. "Yeah, well, don't let it go to your head." She grinned, clearly teasing, though her voice still carried the faintest trace of awe.

Deborah shifted, propping herself up on one elbow as she looked down at Ava, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Oh, I won't. I've already got plenty of other things to be proud of."

Ava rolled her eyes, though she couldn't hide the smile that spread across her face. "Of course you do."

Deborah's hand slid up to rest on Ava's waist, the touch soft now, almost affectionate. "Get some rest. You've earned it."

Ava let out a contented sigh, her body sinking deeper into the sheets. "Yeah, yeah." She closed her eyes, the exhaustion and satisfaction mixing together as she allowed herself to relax. "Just… no more Teletubby jokes on your show, okay?"

Deborah chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to Ava's temple. "No promises."

Ava's smile widened, but she didn't respond. Within moments, she was drifting off, her body still buzzing with the lingering warmth of Deborah's touch, her mind finally quiet.

This work is in large part thanks to a writing group I am part of that keeps me to a calendar of posting and betas my work. https://fictioneers.thinkific.com/pages/blog