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Lena’s stilettos hit the wall of her bedroom closet with a decisive thwackle-dunk before the front door to her apartment has properly locked behind her. Her former krav maga instructor would do a round kick in his grave if he knew. Careless. But, whatever—after the day Lena has had, she figures she’s allowed one moment of weakness.
Speaking of weaknesses. Her impressive collection of decanters calls to her from the sideboard near the bed, gleaming in the dim light. They’re filled with various amber liquors, promising heavy limbs and dreamless sleep.
But Lena is making better choices, these days.
A few more steps and she’s on her rooftop terrace, her elbows parked on the railing and breathing in deep. The colorfully illuminated streets below are shimmering with rain, sending up the distant sounds of traffic. It’s Friday night, the thick humidity of summer just ramping up, and the more adventurous souls of National City are pouring into taxi cabs and clubs, determined to properly celebrate the start of the weekend.
Lena mournfully traces the outline of the gadgets hidden beneath the collar of her shirt. Someone really ought to warn said souls that all of life’s little pleasures get relabeled ‘bad habits’ once you make it past the age of thirty-five. It’s almost enough to make Lena doubt whether escaping the numerous attempts on her life had been worth it, in the end.
Almost.
Do all Kryptonians have a nose for her nihilistic moods, she wonders, or is that just the one who’s dating her? Lena barely has time to pray it’s the latter in the moment that flits by between the familiar thud beneath her feet and the warm body molding itself along her back.
She smiles. Alright, she concedes, so not all of life’s little pleasures. She leans back into the ridged outline of the El family emblem as a pair of strong arms slips around her waist. “Hello, darling.”
“I’m so sorry I missed lunch. And dinner,” Kara groans into her neck. “Turns out extra-dimensional time sprites have, like, zero regard for standing plans.” Her brisk exhale puffs down the front of Lena’s shirt, conspiring with the cool evening breeze to send an inconvenient wave of goosebumps down her chest. “Everything turn out okay today?”
Lena sighs, wincing at the news she’s about to break. “You tell me,” she says. The dark look she sends Kara as she turns to face her is meant to convey her chagrin, the fingers undoing the top buttons of her own shirt intended solely to demonstrate the size of the wrench that’s been thrown into her plans for the evening.
But that’s clearly not how Kara takes it. Her eyes have darkened, too, her mouth curling at the corners in a by-now-familiarly cocky grin.
It’s practically Pavlovian at this point, the way Lena’s body comes alive under Kara’s rapt attention. Kara’s heavily lidded gaze says she knows exactly what Lena needs, and exactly how she’s going to go about giving it to her. It causes a slow kick of excitement at the core of her, heat blossoming out through Lena’s belly.
Kara moves her hands over Lena’s hips, palming at her roughly as she goes in for a kiss. It’s an immediately filthy and undeniably possessive thing, Kara’s tongue gliding over Lena’s lips with candid fervor, and Lena melts into it so completely that she needs to hold on to Kara’s arms in order to keep standing.
By the time Kara breaks away to mouth at Lena’s jaw, Lena is panting.
“Did I mention I'm a Pulitzer-Prize winning author?” Kara husks, licking out at the skin below Lena’s ear. “I don’t tell. I show.”
Lena rolls her eyes and presses the flat of her hands into Kara’s biceps, as if she has any chance of actually pushing her away. She tries to protest, she really does, it’s just that, Kara is nipping at the muscle of neck, now, and it leaves Lena a little lightheaded, turning her chastising groan into an encouraging moan instead. She’s captive to the heat of Kara’s mouth, the thrilling surety of her fingers. It’s making Lena ache, liquid heat pooling low in the cradle of her hips, and, okay, Lena may be barred from fully enjoying herself tonight, but it must be possible for Kara to just, maybe, take the edge off, without making Lena—
Wait.
…Wasn’t Lena wearing a shirt, just now? She’s pretty sure she was. It seems to have disappeared somehow, the silk slipping off her shoulders without her noticing. It takes a mystified moment, but then Lena spots the garment down on the deck at their feet, rippling in the gentle breeze of Kara’s superspeed.
Lena blushes hot—at the notion that she’s now standing half-naked before National City’s skyline, facing a powerful alien who’s still wearing her full superhero regalia, sure, but mostly in response to the raw hunger written all over said superhero’s face when she zeroes in on the lacey half-cups of Lena’s bra.
Lena had regretted her choice of lingerie when she was standing in the chilly doctor’s office, earlier.
She definitely doesn’t regret it now.
She swallows, her nipples turning stiff and sensitive, standing out against the delicate fabric. The lace leaves them completely defenseless against the intensity of Kara’s gaze, and it makes Lena feel hot, wet, ready. Her whole body is thrumming with the wish for Kara to keep touching her, some areas a little more desperate for it than others, and when Kara’s brain appears to stutter, her fingers twitching uselessly at her sides as she drinks in the vision before her, Lena decides to take matters into her own hands.
She pulls Kara back in by her waist, earning herself a soft groan as she brings their lips together. Lena arches into Kara’s body, grateful when Kara’s fingers finally start moving to where she needs them most. When her thumbs graze the sides of Lena’s breasts, Lena lets her eyes flutter closed, abandoning all hope of stopping.
But Kara bypasses her anticipated destination entirely. And when Lena looks back up at her lover’s face, impatient, confused, she’s no longer met with the reverence she’s gotten used to seeing when she lets Kara take off her clothes.
Kara’s nose is wrinkled, her lips pursed.
Ah. Yes.
One of Kara’s hands is hovering just below Lena’s collarbone, where Dr. Singh’s assistant has affixed a pair of thumb-sized electronic devices. Kara blinks at them, and they blink back—one a faint blue, the other pink, switching on and off in alternating pulses.
Right.
“Sexy, huh?” Lena deadpans.
Kara grimaces. “It looks—weird,” she says, being a Pulitzer-Prize winning author and all. “Like you’re some sort of—”
“...cyborg?” Lena suggests with a pointed arch of her brow.
Kara flinches, and then she tugs, very gingerly, at the top edges of Lena’s bra. “You wouldn’t happen to be hiding a Kryptonite heart under here, would you?”
“I mean, you’re welcome to check,” Lena croons, trying to salvage the moment she thought they’d been having.
But Kara is too busy pouting to notice she’s being flirted with. “I should have been there,” she says. “I could have told your doctor that your heart is fine.”
And it’s true; Kara has checked, and checked again, not just using her X-ray vision but consulting medical textbooks, eventually even—in spite of Lena’s protests—enlisting her sister’s expertise. And Alex agrees: Lena is fine. The occasional spikes and stutters that have Dr. Singh so worried are likely merely due to stress.
And Lena’s been dealing with that.
In a variety of ways.
Most of which Alex did not want to hear about.
Lena watches with envy as Kara gives the pieces of tech the kind of intrigued attention she usually reserves for two decidedly more sensitive areas, a few inches further down Lena’s chest. Of course maybe today, her distraction is only for the best.
“Maybe,” Lena says. “But unless you were planning on impersonating an experienced cardiologist, I don’t think it would have done much to ease her mind.” She crosses her arms, beginning to feel a little too exposed under Kara’s scrutiny. “Dr. Singh is very thorough.”
Also, evidently, a little bit of a tyrant. It had taken fifteen minutes of arguing to bring them to a precarious accord: if the heart monitor Lena is wearing shows a consistent rhythm with no sudden spikes over 120 bpm for the next twenty-four hours, Dr. Singh won’t subject her to the indignity of a cardiopulmonary exercise test.
“Twenty-four hours?” Kara pouts when Lena relays this information. She gives the lace that’s barely covering Lena’s chest a longing look, clearly drawing the correct conclusion in regards to their usual date night plans. “But—”
Lena steps out of reach of Kara’s suddenly extra-eager hands, using the momentary reprieve to mend her frayed resolve. “No buts,” she says, collecting her shirt before heading back inside. “I may have my share of kinks, but the closely-monitored, sweaty workout a stress test would entail fits exactly none of them.”
“Alright, okay, so no strenuous activities tonight,” Kara surmises, following Lena into her ensuite bathroom. “But where do you stand on—”
Lena turns to press her fingers against her girlfriend’s lips. “Unless you’re about to suggest takeout from Addis and a socially distanced Disney movie marathon, it’s going to have to be a no.”
Kara grins against her hand, using another dash of super speed—unfair—to gently nip at Lena’s fingers. She catches the tip of one of them between her teeth, eyes twinkling as she licks out at it, slow and deliberate, her tongue gliding suggestively against the pad before she lets it go. “I was going to offer a massage.”
Lena huffs out a laugh, right into Kara’s face, hoping it will disguise the hitch in her breath. “I don’t see how you putting your hands all over my body is going to somehow help bring my heart rate down.”
The heat in Kara’s answering look makes it very clear they’re both remembering how true that is.
Lena shakes off the weakness in her knees just in time to escape Kara’s attempt to press her into the vanity. “Perhaps a bath would do the trick,” she flusters, thankful to find such a conveniently located diversion.
Kara looks briefly very into the idea, but then the crease between her eyebrows deepens. “Is that safe?” she asks, indicating the technology glued to Lena’s chest. “Those… thingamajigs don’t look waterproof to me.”
“They‘d better be,” Lena frowns. “They’re L-Corp-patented technology.”
It’s enough to bring Kara immediately back on board. “Stay right here,” she instructs. “Don’t move. I’ve got this.”
Lena is alone with the now running water of the bath a gust of wind later, the handful of candles she keeps in her kitchen drawer miraculously lit and distributed to various bathroom surfaces and Lena’s clean towels looking considerably more disheveled.
Lena waits for her clawfoot tub to fill up completely before she gets in. She’s just slipping beneath the surface, meeting the perfect warmth enveloping her with a satisfied groan, when Kara announces her return in a somewhat less-than-gentlemanly manner.
There’s a loud curr-ACK, and when Lena’s eyes fly open—wondering whether she’s just earned herself that stress test, right there—Kara is standing in the middle of her bathroom, holding a now useless doorknob in her baffled hand.
Her eyelashes are damp with rain.
“There was a line at Walgreens,” she rasps, as if that explains the state of Lena’s bathroom door. Lena lets it go, mentally adding it to her ever-lengthening list of maintenance requests.
She’s bought Lena bubble bath. Eleven different kinds, in fact, all boasting variations on outlandish concepts like Relief and Recovery and Restfulness.
She’s also bought her lube.
“I noticed you were running low,” Kara quickly explains when Lena’s eyebrows tick up at her in question. “Just. On the off chance you were considering, you know…” Her blush is adorable. “Partaking in some water, um, based—activities.” She stands there for another long second, seemingly short-circuiting at the sight of Lena turning the small bottle over in her hands. “Which, by the way, are listed at the top of, uh.” Kara scratches her nose. “Many articles on ways to relax.”
Lena bites back a giggle at the image of Supergirl standing in line at the pharmacy, frantically scrolling through Autostraddle’s 10 Sensational Self-Care Strategies That Will Really ‘Hit The Spot’! while waiting for the cashier to ring up her lube.
“How very considerate,” Lena teases. “And you don’t think this particular method will be at all counter-productive?”
Kara plops down cross-legged on the floor next to the tub, arranging the bottles of bubble bath for Lena to more easily peruse. “I don’t know,” she shrugs, a shy smile tugging at her lips. “It’s not like it takes a lot of hard work to get you off.”
Lena’s hand freezes mid-air, hovering over the bottle of Silky Smooth Seduction that somehow made it into Kara’s line-up. She barks out a laugh, thoroughly scandalized. “Did you just call me easy?”
Kara blinks up at her, the picture of sweet, wide-eyed innocence. “Am I wrong?” she asks, uncapping the bottle that Lena had been wondering at and pouring a generous amount of it into the water below Lena’s propped-up feet. “Because if so, I am happy to lend a hand.”
Lena is pretty sure Kara is showing off when she begins to slowly rake her fingers through the water, presumably to stir up a lather. It makes her fingers glisten, highlighting the play of tendons in her strong, capable hands.
“You do usually let me do the heavy lifting,” Kara says.
The (unfortunately very hot) audacity.
“You’re being rude to me,” Lena says, aiming for cool admonishment but landing, due to the unexpected breathiness of her voice, embarrassingly close to enraptured instead. “And here I was thinking of giving you a show.”
Kara’s hand goes still. Tiny droplets dangle from her fingertips, a single one hitting the water with an echoing sploit. “A show?”
Lena holds her gaze as she lifts first a single eyebrow, and then her heels off the rim of the tub. She lowers them into the now thoroughly sudsy water, resting her knees against the porcelain and allowing her legs to fall open. She watches, pleasure curling in the cradle of her hips, as Kara’s eyes track the movement with keen interest.
Lena just hopes Kara won’t notice the tremor in her thighs.
“Aren’t you going to change?” she asks, thinking it might allow her a moment to calm down her already rapidly beating heart. “That supersuit has never looked very comfortable to me.”
Kara grins at her. “Watch this.”
A shift in the air is the only thing that alerts Lena that anything has happened. She swears Kara’s forearms never even lift off the edge of the tub. But they must, because Kara is now wearing sweatpants and a faded graphic tee.
Lena blinks at it, swallowing at the thickness in her throat. “That’s a, ehm. Neat trick.”
“Yeah?” There’s that heavy-lidded look again. “I’ve got a few of those.”
Oh, Lena is intimately aware. Kara has happily introduced her to most of them by now. She’s personally most proud of her boundless stamina and that thing she can do with her tongue, but Lena’s own definitive favorite is Kara’s superstrength. Kara usually keeps that one firmly in check, especially during sex, but Lena has been able to convince her lately to relax into it a little.
It helps that Kara clearly enjoys making Lena prove to her exactly how wet it makes her to have Kara restrain her using no more than a single, nonchalant hand. How hard Lena comes when Kara fucks her with the other while Lena squirms and writhes against her unyielding grip, knowing perfectly well that, to Kara, her struggles must feel as insignificant as the trembling wings of a captive butterfly, trapped between her fingers.
Lena has never trusted anyone to take control like that before. She’s never even trusted herself enough, to so willingly have it taken from her. But with Kara, it doesn’t seem to matter which rules Lena has been taught to follow, or who she has forced herself to be. Propriety, composure, leadership—bitch, black sheep, engineer—
Oh, wait, Lena thinks. Oh, Christ.
“For fuck’s sake,” she mutters. “What am I thinking?” Her heart monitor operates on L-Corp-developed software. Which means Lena can just rig the entire thing. “Kara, could you—” She gestures at her to retrieve her phone, already mentally scripting a jailbreak.
Kara picks it up, but she doesn’t hand it over, keeping it just outside of Lena’s reach. “You’re supposed to be relaxing,” she pouts. “Not working overtime.”
“Change of plans,” Lena says. “Give it to me.”
Kara shakes her head, a gently reproachful look on her face. “Not for twenty-four hours, remember?”
“Kara. Come on,” Lena beckons. “I am going to write a workaround for these damn things.”
Kara looks from the phone to Lena’s collarbone. “Really? It’s that easy?”
“A five-minute job, at most,” Lena promises her. “And then you can bend me over that vanity and fuck me properly, if you want.”
Kara nearly drops Lena’s phone into the tub in her haste to hand it over, ruining the entire plot. But Lena rescues it from her fumbling grip, and Kara’s fingers find steadier purchase on Lena’s soapy shin.
Lena is so busy calculating the new parameters that she fails to notice the dangerously curious glint in Kara’s eyes. “So what are you doing, exactly?” her girlfriend asks. “Falsifying your biomedical input?”
“Something like that.” Lena’s skin tingles when Kara’s palm begins to travel, her touch even more evocative now that Lena knows her gratification will not be delayed for much longer.
When Kara speaks up again, the shockingly low register of her voice hits Lena like a shot of tequila on an empty stomach. “I think you can do better.”
Lena looks up at her, blinking owlishly. “...What?”
Kara cocks her chin at the gadgets affixed to Lena’s chest. “I think you should set it to warn you when your heart rate threatens to reach 120.”
Lena narrows her eyes. “Why on earth would I want to do that?”
Kara’s fingers continue their contemplative path, barely grazing Lena’s calf, teasing, dangerously close to ticklish. “Because when we play,” she hums as they glide upward, moving behind and then over and then well past Lena’s knee, “we follow the rules.”
Her hand comes to a halt at the swell of Lena’s inner thigh, her thumb swiping over one of Lena’s many birthmarks (all of which Kara has claimed as her favorite). Lena’s skin is slippery beneath the pad of Kara’s thumb, and so sensitive that Lena imagines she can feel every individual loop and whorl.
Kara’s eyes glitter as if she already knows the answer when she leans in and asks, “Do you feel like playing a game with me tonight, Lena?”
Lena has been so busy trying not to self-immolate at the touch of Kara’s hand that she has failed to notice how much closer Kara has gotten. She’s abused her powers of flight only to be able to breathe the question directly into Lena’s ear.
The heat of Kara’s breath combines with the significance of her words, forming an intoxicating cocktail that goes straight to Lena’s clit. It makes Lena’s heart pound so fast she wonders absently whether this is the phenomenon that’s been catching Dr. Singh’s attention.
A game, Lena thinks.
Yes please.
And also, judging by the devious smirk still tugging at the corners of Kara’s mouth, absolutely not.
“You can’t be serious,” Lena says, in a last-ditch effort to talk herself out of this. “You plan to, what, prove you can make me come without setting off the monitors?”
Kara bites back a grin. “Well, I was going to suggest charades…”
Lena resists the urge to punch her, right in her little angelic face.
“Hey,” Kara says, letting go of Lena’s thigh to hold both of her hands aloft. “If you think me touching you will be too much for you to handle, I’m looking forward to watching you try to prove you can do it yourself.”
Lena watches her, eyes narrowed, trying to breathe her way through Kara’s goading. She’s pretty sure breaking her own knuckles on Kara’s freckled nose would put her at a disadvantage for what’s looking increasingly more likely to be going down tonight.
She huffs.
She wiggles her foot.
And then she taps in the commands Kara suggested.
Swallowing her pride now will be worth it, she tells herself as she hands it back over, as long as it ends with her wiping that smug look off her girlfriend’s face.
Kara sits back down on the floor, making a point of getting comfortable as if she’s letting Lena take the stage. Lena arches a studiously impassive eyebrow at her, holding her chin high even as she brings her own hand to her breast. But her composure slips the moment her palm brushes her nipple, and when she nudges the slippery, puckered skin with her thumb, the bright spark of pleasure it evokes zips straight down to the already pent-up pressure behind her clit. The shock of it is powerful enough to make both of them sigh.
“There you go,” Kara says softly.
Lena moves her other hand underwater, sliding over her belly and dipping past the neatly trimmed patch of hair. Even the first gentle press of her fingers feels like a revelation, grateful relief flooding her senses when she starts up a pulsing pressure aimed indirectly at her clit. She’s not surprised to find herself already sensitive and swollen—not with the way Kara has been looking at her, the way the two of them have been talking. Her body jolts into her own touch regardless, thrilled at the perfect rhythm of her hand, thighs twitching, breath hitching, pleasure rippling through her cunt and down the back of her legs.
Kara looks at least equally affected, her cheeks rosy and jaw slack.
“How am I doing?” Lena asks her, teasing, pleased when it sounds far steadier than she feels.
Kara’s eyes barely flit at Lena’s phone to check, busy as they are dividing her attention between Lena’s face, her thighs, the thumb Lena keeps swiping over one now painfully prominent nipple. “Very good,” she tells her smoothly, cheeky bastard that she is. But she also adds, tilting the screen of her phone so Lena can see it before she can complain, “You’re at ninety-seven, and holding.”
Lena sinks a little deeper into the water, focusing on the cadence of her breath. The number is a tad higher than she’d like, but she’s confident she’ll be able to keep it steady, even in the face of her body’s building need. The pressure beneath her hand has grown into a tightly coiling tension. She keeps her eyes on the screen as she presses her fingers down flat, keeping her circles small and tight, adding pressure rather than friction. It’s a familiar move, effective, well-practiced, especially since Lena has recently started trying not to use whiskey to lull herself to sleep.
This isn’t going to take long at all. Which is great, because once Lena’s won, they can get down to serious business.
She winds herself up quickly, a little faster, tighter still, taking measured breaths as she plucks at her nipples a little harder. She’s inordinately proud that her pulse has only risen by a handful of beats. The thought of lording her impending victory over Kara—and the plans she has for her after—have Lena’s toes flexing and curling against the slick porcelain. Her cunt is pulsing in time with the movement of her fingers, her breaths beginning to stutter and halt.
Kara tuts at her from the bleachers, jarring Lena out of her pleasurable haze. “See?” Kara says, her eyes sparkling. ”So easy.”
Lena huffs, her temper flaring at the unexpected dig, and as if on cue, her phone chimes out an insistent, angry-sounding BZZT!
When Kara wiggles it at her, triumphant, the screen reads 110 bpm.
Lena glares at it, and then at Kara’s grin. “That’s cheating,” she says. “You are cheating.”
“Just a test run,” Kara shrugs with a disarming wink. “Had to make sure it works. Please, carry on.”
Lena keeps her eyes locked with Kara’s this time. It’s a bid for revenge, knowing the effect it usually has on her freckled blonde tormentor, but Lena regrets her decision the moment her fingers reconnect with the slick heat between her legs. Kara may have distracted Lena’s mind, but her body is right where she left it, and Lena moans at its hunger. Her head tilts back against the ledge of the tub, but she manages to keep her eyes open. It means she doesn’t miss the way Kara’s eyes flick up eagerly at the furrowed line of Lena’s brow, or the way they drag down after a moment to admire the straining muscles of her neck.
By the time Kara’s heady gaze reaches the place where Lena’s chest meets the surface of the water, Lena can feel the laser-like intensity of Kara’s focus, as tangible as a kiss.
The movement of Lena’s body is creating its own ebb and flow, the water lapping at her breasts like a lover. Her nipples are straining under its soft caress, pink and prominent as if begging for a firmer touch. Lena moans when she grants their wish, tugging, twisting them between the fingers of her free hand, just this side of painful. The warring sensations make her throb, her body arching—hopeless, helpless—under Kara’s ravenous appraisal.
The Lena she was a year ago would be mortified, mystified by the exquisite vulnerability of the position she is in. But Lena has been learning—Kara has been teaching her—how whole, how healed she is capable of feeling when she allows herself to break.
Lena smiles when she feels the first tell-tale tugs of her approaching climax. Her phone tells her her heartbeat is pushing 105, but it’s fine, Lena can handle it—she simply needs to mind her breathing, in and out, slowly through her nose, directing it into her belly rather than her chest.
This sort of subterranean type of peak is almost nostalgic. It reminds Lena of some of her earliest adventures, back when she and Andrea had first started fooling around and discretion had been a top priority. The movement of her hand grows more insistent at the memory, slightly less coordinated than before, but that’s alright; Lena doesn’t need much, just a final, broad press of her palm before she—
BZZT!
“Oh, fuck!” Lena yells, startled, her mind still tangled up in her reverie, her fingers flinching away as if she’s sixteen again and caught doing something shameful. Her orgasm escapes her along with her shocked exclamation, now fully out of reach.
“Are you okay?” Kara asks. Her voice is rough, but she sounds genuinely empathetic. “Do you need to stop?”
“No.” Lena’s voice echoes off the tile, making her jump again. Her body feels heavy, restless, saturated with desire and the unmet promise of release. “Don’t be foolish,” she tells Kara. “I’m just warming up.”
She reminds herself to breathe, watching her phone until the number starts to fall. Once it shows 85 bpm she slips both of her hands beneath the surface, sliding one of them further down between her legs.
Lena’s cunt is slippery-soft and hot when she dips inside, clamping down hard on the tips of her fingers. It’s as if her body is trying to trap her there, drawing her deeper inside herself, and Lena shivers at the sensation, both inside and out. She had meant merely to tease, to work herself up a bit—the slick porcelain lacks the purchase she requires for this type of stimulation, and Lena rarely ventures there using only her own hand—but the drawn-out teasing and repeated denial she’s subjected herself to seem to have stoked a need in her that Lena barely recognizes.
She whines softly, defeated, and decides to focus on the efforts of her other hand. She spreads herself open with a broad swipe of her thumb, traps the delicate tissue enfolding her clit between two of her fingers, and gently starts moving her hand.
It doesn’t take long for her body to find a rhythm Lena can sink into. Her hips begin to move of their own accord, her cunt still begging for Lena to offer it something better, fuck her deeper, to give her anything at all. Every moment its pleas go unanswered only adds to its need, until Lena’s frustrated attempts are stirring up waves. The water sloshes against the side of the tub, crashing over Lena’s breasts and the trembling mound of her belly.
Kara puts a hand on her shoulder and squeezes, infinitely gentle and preposterously soft. Lena nearly comes out of her skin at the unannounced touch. “Breathe, sweet girl,” Kara tells her. “Don’t you want to feel good like this for just a little longer?”
The phone tells her it’s high time to cool things down, but when Lena does what Kara tells her and releases her held breath, her climax slips away with it.
“Baby,” Kara gushes at Lena’s plaintive whimper, reaching over to tuck a wet strand of hair behind Lena’s ear. “It almost sounds like you’re in pain.” Her eager affection makes it sound like an ovation rather than genuine concern.
Of course if Lena has learned anything from the previous times they’ve played, it’s that concern likely isn't what Kara is feeling. Just like Lena has opened up to Kara, trusting her with her desire to be made to submit, Kara has revealed to Lena a tantalizingly imaginative touch of playful cruelty.
It’s proven very fortunate that they share an inquisitive nature and a common eagerness to discover the many ways in which their interests overlap.
As if she’s read her mind, Kara breaks into a happy grin. “Are you ready to admit defeat?” she needles, her eyes twinkling.
Lena tries to growl at her. It comes out soft and feminine, falling terribly short of the vexation it’s supposed to convey. “You wish.”
Lena renews her efforts with dogged determination, remembering tricks she hasn’t had to use in years, but to desperately little effect. It’s maddening—each time Lena gets close to coming, her attention flits back to her phone, and the looming threat of having her pleasure pulled out from under her again.
Kara hums. “You’re almost there,” she says. “So close.”
She isn’t asking, but Lena nods tightly anyway.
“I know you are, sweet girl,” Kara croons. “You’re doing so well.”
Lena’s eyes blink open, her head spinning at the unexpected praise.
“Gosh,” Kara tells her, staring at her with open adoration. “You should see yourself, Lena. You look so good like this, trying so hard, needing it so much.”
Lena can’t help the shiver that runs down her body. Kara’s words make her throb, her cunt clenching down on what little she has to offer. She’s intensely grateful for Kara’s help, but also deeply suspicious. Kara is giving her everything she wants, helping to drive Lena to a rapidly approaching and terribly psychologically revealing peak, and it can only mean one thing.
Kara is absolutely messing with her.
It doesn’t matter. Lena is defenseless against the weight of Kara’s words. They wind her up more effectively than the most sensual caress, sinking far beneath Lena’s skin until she’s glowing from the inside, radiant, pulsing.
“You love this, don’t you, baby?” Kara croons. “Feeling so wrecked and desperate, looking so pretty for me, all mine for me to play and toy with.”
Lena lets out a pitiful whimper as Kara’s words wash over her, the glowing coil of her release pulling impossibly tighter inside her. She feels both abashed and brazen, stretched taut between her bittersweet humiliation and Kara’s glowing praise, and it’s perfect, Kara is perfect, giving her exactly what she needs, and oh, it’s here, Lena can taste it, she’s—
BZZT!
Lena wails out a protest, but she keeps her fingers moving, too far gone to stop. Who cares about their silly game, anyway? Lena has a Kryptonian with a confirmed sadistic streak in her bed nearly every other night. She’s pretty sure she can handle whatever Dr. Singh’s damned stress test will involve.
Her hands maintain their frantic pace, working in exquisite tandem between her legs, her hips rolling up to meet them, almost, almost, almost—
But a stern hand takes hold of Lena’s wrists, tugging her resolutely back off the ledge.
Lena whimpers as her clit throbs painfully at the sudden loss of stimulation. “No, I can keep going,” she pleads, blinking up into Kara’s kind features. “It’s alright,” she promises. “I’m not even—”
Kara hushes her, kind but decisive. “It’s okay if you need to call the game, Lena,” she says, moving Lena’s hands well away from her body before loosening her iron grip. “We can stop whenever you want to. But I need it to be a level-headed decision. Not you giving in just because you want to come.”
And god damn it, Kara’s right.
Her bpm is still hovering around 100, so Lena puts her hands on either side of the tub and keeps them there as she sags further down into the water. The puff of her breath sends a couple of suds flying. “I was right here,” she growls.
“I know you were,” Kara says warmly, and then, in a lower, more conspiratorial whisper, “I love when you get like this. You’re adorable when you’re mad.” Her eyes are tracking the way the water laps gently—too gently, not at all how Lena needs—at the skin of her breasts and thighs.
“I can’t imagine how wound up you must feel—gosh, Lena.” Kara breathes in deep, her nostrils flaring. “I bet you’re soaking wet,” she rasps. “I bet you’d let me do almost anything to you right now.”
Lena groans, low and wretched, knowing what’s coming well before it does. She closes her eyes as if it will keep her from having to hear it.
BZZT!
“Not a single word,” she grinds out.
Kara’s eyes are glinting, but she swipes her thumb and finger over her mouth as if she’s zipping it shut.
“Don’t fool yourself thinking you’ve won,” Lena warns. “I’m not ready to stop.”
“I noticed,” Kara says mildly. “I’m not sure we can trust you will, even when you have to.”
Lena kicks up a splash of water, pleased when some of it lands on Kara’s face. “Screw you,” she huffs, with no real venom.
“Not tonight,” Kara breezes. “Can’t have you exerting yourself.” Her eyes roam Lena’s cleavage, flushed pink beneath a layer of foam. The blush spreads as she watches, with Lena stewing under Kara’s infuriatingly amused gaze.
Lena clenches her jaw, feeling like inflicting a little cruelty herself. “Shame,” she purrs, “I had such big plans for you,” leaning heavily on the adjective as she stares her down.
Kara’s fingers twitch on the porcelain rim. Lena can still feel their phantom grip around her wrists.
“But you agree,” Kara reiterates. “We don’t want you accidentally pushing yourself too far.”
“Right,” Lena huffs. “We wouldn’t want to invite the good doctor’s further scrutiny.”
“But you don't want to stop.”
Lena looks down at her ravished body, still thrumming with an urgent, unquenched need. “Definitely not.”
“That means it’s my turn.”
As is the usual way of Kara’s threats and promises, it’s at once the best and the worst thing she could have said. Lena is both anxious and eager for Kara to step in. It’s going to be heavenly—she’s going to put her through hell. Lena can’t imagine holding still and practicing mindful breathing in the face of Kara’s usual approach. The girl of steel is good, tenacious, single-minded, but there’s one thing she absolutely lacks.
Finesse.
Lena knows that if she says yes, she’s signing herself up for Kara to make her suffer.
But she wants to. She has to.
She needs to know what happens next.
“I’ll have to put the phone down, though,” Kara says. “No more checking. Is that clear to you, Lena?”
Lena nods. She can feel the way her muscles slacken, her body yielding to the hint of steel in Kara’s tone. “Yes, Kara.” Her voice contains an audible tremor.
“Alright, baby, I’ve got you,” Kara soothes. “Just relax and let me take over.”
Lena jolts at the first touch of Kara’s hand, light fingertips dancing over her breast, just barely brushing her nipples. It’s a far lighter caress than the treatment of Lena’s own fingers, but it conveys an unspoken promise that makes it infinitely more effective.
“That’s my girl,” Kara says. “You need it bad, don’t you?”
“So bad,” Lena says, “need you to touch me, want you inside.” She spreads her legs wider and cants her hips, hoping to more clearly telegraph her need, but Kara just smiles in the face of her desperation. She drags her fingers slowly down Lena’s slick skin, keeping her touch featherlight, moving over the sides of her belly and gently scratching up her inner thighs, her eyes glinting and her fingers lingering each time Lena twitches at a ticklish spot.
By the time Kara’s hand finally comes to rest over Lena’s clit, applying no more than a mere insinuation of pressure, Lena's mindful breathing has turned into shallow gasps.
“You’re ready for me, aren’t you?” Kara says with obvious delight. “I can feel your clit twitching against the palm of my hand.”
“God yes,” Lena moans, and Kara pushes into her, shallowly, just the tip of a single finger. They both groan when Lena’s cunt flutters around it.
“Don’t tease,” Lena moans. It’s so far short of what she needs, less even than her own fruitless fumbling, and Kara knows it. Lena bites her lip to keep from begging, too stubborn to start that now, but Kara must be feeling generous today. She pushes back in with a second finger, sinking all the way inside her this time, and Lena can’t keep a string of pleased profanity from falling from her lips.
But then Kara just. Keeps them there, unmoving, all while Lena shivers and gasps for more. She can feel herself clenching around Kara’s hand, her body making an executive decision to do Lena’s begging for her.
Screw it, if Kara won’t do it, Lena will just help herself. She uses the small measure of weightlessness the water allows her to move her hips, fucking herself properly on Kara’s fingers.
But Kara puts a stop to it after only one perfect, toe-curling thrust. She steadies her, her body now fully hovering above her, spreading her free hand over Lena’s belly and using it to firmly pin her down.
It only serves to further ramp up Lena’s desire. Much like Kara’s voice, which is patient-yet-commanding when she tells Lena, “Put your hands back on the ledge.”
It takes Lena a brief disoriented moment to discover that she’s holding on to both of Kara’s wrists. She’s not sure why she’s placed them there—whether she’s trying to get Kara to start fucking her in earnest, or if she’s helping her to hold herself down.
It’s probably both.
Kara waits until Lena does what she says, but she keeps her pinned in place when she finally starts moving her fingers. “I’ll go easy on you,” she teases. “No rush. I’ll get you there in time.”
She speeds up by maddeningly small degrees, just enough to keep Lena’s pleasure building. It feels like a lifetime has passed by the time she’s driving into her finally, fast, precise movements that steal away Lena’s breath. Kara’s thumb nudges at the hood of Lena’s clit, setting off fireworks inside her body.
“Feels so good,” Lena moans.
“Good,” Kara hums. “Want you to feel good.”
Lena’s orgasm approaches like a high-speed train this time, lightning-fast and unstoppable. Every swipe of Kara’s thumb, every stroke of her fingers inside her brings Lena closer, winds her up tighter, until—
BZZT!
Lena’s eyes fly open, whining when Kara pulls her fingers away. The sense of emptiness is infinitely worse when it’s Kara’s hand instead of her own, removing all measure of choice from their cruel equation.
It puts a slightly more colorful expletive on Lena’s lips.
“Sorry baby,” Kara says, and for a brief moment, Lena is fooled by her genuinely sympathetic tone. But there’s a smirk tugging at one corner of Kara’s mouth, making her look insufferably smug when she winks, “Clearly I’m just too much for you to handle.”
Lena glares at the obvious challenge, hoping it will keep Kara from noticing that her body is beckoning her against her will, her hips undulating helplessly beneath the unyielding press of Kara’s hand. “Fuck you,” she says, headstrong and hornier than she remembers feeling ever before in her life. “Keep going.”
“You’re so bossy when you’re powerless,” Kara says, but she’s grinning as she starts her back up, the heel of her hand putting perfect pressure on Lena’s clit while her fingers work their magic inside her. It feels so wonderful that Lena nearly forgets about their game. Her fingers begin to tremble and slip on the wet porcelain, losing their white-knuckled grip. Lena is going to come, she’s—
BZZT!
“Nooo,” Lena whines, pitiful and weak as Kara withdraws her hand.
Lena is so turned on she’s almost hurting, the coil of her pleasure wound to the breaking point with no relief in sight. She squirms, squeezing her thighs together, desperate to vent some of the excruciating pressure, but Kara reaches over and deftly pushes them apart.
“God, Kara,” Lena sobs. “Please, please, I— I need—anything, anything, just please—”
“Sssh, sweet girl,” Kara soothes. “You’re so close to getting it. One last try?”
Lena hiccups. Stopping is inconceivable, so she nods, already closing her eyes against the next deluge of agonizing pleasure.
Kara keeps one hand on her thigh and slides the other back between her legs. Her fingers go directly to Lena’s clit this time, exactly where Lena needs them, but Lena groans when Kara starts her up from nothing, keeping her touch so light that Lena barely feels it.
In an effort to escape her sweetly aching unmet need, Lena focuses on Kara’s face as she floats above her. Her blonde hair is hanging down in tangled strands, damp with steam, her bitten lips and her cheeks an unfairly charming shade of pink. She’s gazing down at Lena with a fond expression that somehow manages to convey both cruelty and genuine kindness.
Seeing how much Kara appears to be enjoying herself, knowing how it thrills Kara to be invited to make Lena suffer, is almost enough to make up for Kara’s purposely inadequate strokes. Lena has stopped asking her therapist why it is that discovering Kara’s wicked streak has only made Lena want to be made to submit to her more. Because the whys don’t matter—what matters is that Lena couldn’t have picked a better person to surrender herself to. Kara would never abuse the power she holds over her, would never hurt her—at least no more than Lena asks her to.
Lena lets go of the elusive promise of coming, surrendering to Kara’s gentle ministrations, the feeling of the water cradling her, the warmth of Kara’s smile.
“Good girl,” Kara groans, her voice gravelly with pleasure and pride. A wintery breath washes over Lena’s blushing chest, which is now calmly falling and rising. The welcome chill makes Lena’s nipples tingle. It feels like a reward, and Lena is grateful for the considerate gesture—only to yelp when Kara follows it abruptly with the slick heat of her mouth.
Kara doesn’t waste any more time. She goes hard after one of Lena’s nipples, alternating between lavishing it with the generous glide of her tongue and sucking it into the tight seal of her lips. Lena shivers, knowing all too well what Kara is working her up to, enhancing her sensitivity only to ensure her next move will be nothing short of catastrophic.
Lena still arches cleanly from the water when Kara traps her nipple between the hard press of her tongue and the merciless bite of her front teeth. It nearly breaks her, her breath catching, muscles locked. Her face freezes in a soundless howl when Kara gives it a deliciously vicious tug, an almost knifelike, searing thrill that makes Lena’s heart stutter in her chest. Kara keeps her there, suspended for an endless, frozen moment, until the pain translates itself into a raw kind of pleasure that ripples through Lena’s body, flooding every single one of Lena’s senses.
Lena is panting by the time Kara finally lets up, her aching nipple throbbing in time with the pounding of her heart.
Her cunt pulses with heady anticipation when Kara starts treating her other breast to the same loving attention she awarded the first. Kara likes to hold back a little on the first one, going all-in on the next, so Lena feels dizzy with relief each time Kara’s tongue dances lovingly over her puckered skin, only to shudder with apprehension whenever Kara takes her nipple into her mouth, her heart racing at the fresh memory of Kara’s teeth.
Knowing exactly what’s coming next only serves to turn Lena on more.
And the thought that she’s perfectly capable of stopping it, but that she chooses not to, as complicit in her own torment as the wicked goddess who’s inflicting it, makes Lena’s body glow.
Kara searches out her eyes and sends her an impish wink when her mouth finally closes around her thoroughly flattered nipple.
Pain, Lena has learned, is a funny thing.
Pain reduces the scope of Lena’s attention down to one single focal point: her own body. And when Kara makes that happen when she’s already pushed Lena’s pleasure to unprecedented heights, Lena is left with no other recourse than to—
BZZT!
She cries out, squirming and thrashing in frustration, bathwater spilling over the edges and splashing onto the tile.
“Aw, baby,” Kara says, both of her hands coming up to gently cradle Lena’s face. “You were almost there that time, weren’t you?”
Lena searches for an appropriately furious reply, but Kara cuts her off before she can remember how language works. “Would you like to try a toy?” she suggests. “Do you think that might ease things along?”
It’s so helpful that Lena immediately sets aside her anger. “Yes,” she says, “yes, get the—” but her hot-pink g-spot vibrator is already in Kara’s hand. Lena barely has time to blink at it, stunned, before her head is lolling back against the tub, her eyes rolling skyward and fluttering closed.
Kara has aimed the vibrator firmly at her clit, set to its lowest rumble.
“Oh, thank you,” Lena sighs, her whole body going slack with relief. When Kara starts to nudge it against her with alternating amounts of pressure, Lena almost slips beneath the surface, her heels catching against the bottom of the tub. “Oh, yeah,” she moans, “oh—exactly like that—”
Kara indulges her for blissful minutes before taking it away, but Lena’s protests die on her lips when she recognizes the familiar sound of Kara snapping open the bottle of lube. A steady hand slides beneath Lena’s hips a moment later, lifting Lena up so Kara can slip the bulb inside her without the bathwater interfering.
Kara waits for Lena’s nod before pushing it deep inside her, fitting it snugly behind her clit. She doesn’t turn it back on immediately, choosing to take her time scrolling through the settings in the app on her own phone, but Lena doesn’t really mind. She already feels molten just from the weight of it seated inside her, pressed so perfectly against such a vulnerable spot. It makes the promise of Kara’s fingers hovering over its controls almost feel like an afterthought.
And then Kara switches it on.
Time ceases to exist. The water of the bath cools off completely without either one of them noticing. Kara gleefully coaxes Lena toward orgasm, over, and over, and over, using her hands, the vibrator, and even, for one particularly inspired and infuriatingly short round, Lena's detachable shower head.
The alert of Lena’s heart monitor device interrupts them every single time, Kara unfailingly having to remove her hand just before Lena starts coming. It has her teetering on what feels like an infinite edge, frantic, shaking, desperate to climax, but unable to find a way to do it without her heartbeat betraying her again.
Kara has taken to watching Lena with honey-sweet concern, as if she’s not the devil behind the wheel, the very architect of Lena’s agony. She coos each time Lena’s breath catches, telling her to “breathe, baby, don’t you want me to help you feel good?” She soothes her with her free hand whenever Lena’s muscles knot, telling her to “Relax, sweet girl, remember what the doctor said.”
But Lena Luthor doesn’t give up. In fact she’s certain that this time, she’s actually going to make it. She’s close, so close, her belly already rippling at the heavy, rhythmic thudding inside her paired with the tantalizing threat of Kara nipping lightly at her breasts, but then Kara’s mouth is suddenly much, much lower down her body, and what is she—no, god, yes—
BZZT!
“Kara,” Lena whimpers, her voice brittle, close to breaking. “Kara, please. I c— I can’t—“
“Do you need to stop?”
Lena wails breathlessly, soft and wretched, watching in real-time as the sound makes Kara’s pupils dilate until her eyes are practically black. Lena knows how she feels. She doesn’t think she’s ever heard herself sound this thoroughly wrecked before, reduced nearly to tears. It’s almost as thrilling as the raw desire written plainly on Kara’s face.
“No,” Lena decides, betraying her own body’s pleas for a reprieve. “But I’m not sure I can take much more of this.”
Kara’s voice is a low, confident purr. “I think you can.”
Just the tone of it when Lena’s already in trouble is enough to set off the alarm. BZZT!
Kara chuckles. “Oh, Lena,” she says, tapping one of Lena’s nipples with an admonishing fingertip. “You’re just so…”
She pinches, hard.
BZZT!
Kara buries her grin in the crook of Lena’s neck. “Very…” Her tongue does something unfathomable against the skin below Lena’s ear.
BZZT!
“Easy.”
BZZT!
Lena pushes her off with a huff and sinks down to stew beneath the surface. The cool water muffles the world, replacing the hateful sound of her phone with the steady whump-whump-whump of her own cursed heart. Is this what losing her powers had been like for Kara? The sounds of everything, all at once, narrowing down to a single—
Motherfucker.
Lena’s heart must still be beating—she imagines the device on her chest would have warned her otherwise—but it sure feels like it has stopped.
Lena keeps her eyes shut tightly as she resurfaces, not trusting herself to not lose her shit when she sees Kara’s doubtlessly cheerful, stupid, gorgeous self-satisfied face.
“Were you going to tell me you’ve been keeping tabs on me with your super-hearing this entire time, or were you waiting for me to figure that out myself?”
Her girlfriend has the audacity to laugh. “I’m actually surprised you didn’t realize it sooner.”
“That’s just—you—why would you even—“ Lena takes a breath. “This hasn’t been fair from the start, has it?" she realizes. "I never even stood a chance.”
Kara gives her a heated look. “I know how you love it when I stack the odds against you.”
BZZT!
Lena is too busy getting caught up to heed the alert. She waves at its buzzing the way she would at a particularly bullheaded housefly. “How do you do that?” she asks Kara. “How do you know when to—it’s not as if—”
“I’m always listening to you.”
Lena’s mind stutters to a halt. “…beg pardon?”
“Your heartbeat, I mean,” Kara clarifies. “I respect your privacy, and all that. But I love listening to your heart. It’s beautiful. It’s vulnerable. And it tells me things.”
Lena swallows. “Things.”
“Yeah.” Kara shrugs. “What you like. What you love.” She smirks. “What you hate.”
Lena flusters at the blatant adoration behind the words. Kara loves her. Kara knows her, like nobody else. She keeps an ear out for Lena’s darkest desires, and then she uses them to toy with her, exactly the way Lena likes. “You’re a monster,” Lena tells her. “Making this big show of helping me out, and you were leaving me hanging on purpose.”
Kara glows as if she’s just been paid a compliment. “Yup.”
Lena still doesn’t get it. “Why?”
“Are you kidding?” Kara’s brow twitches, furrowing briefly. “Because this way I could fuck you for as long as I wanted, and you still wouldn’t come until I let you.”
Lena’s breath leaves her on a flabbergasted gasp. A flabbergasp, as Kara would surely phrase it. “You’re aware this means you owe me,” she says.
“Oh yeah,” Kara agrees. “Big time.”
Lena breathes at her, jaw tight and nostrils flaring. Kara could not be making it more clear that she doesn’t feel repentant in the slightest. And even if she did, there is no conceivable kind of punishment that Lena could demand that Kara wouldn’t relish.
God help me, Lena thinks—it is maddeningly hot.
Kara’s eyes start to crinkle at Lena’s lament. “So—”
“Get me out of here and take me to bed,” Lena rushes, and the mattress is at her back a moment later. Kara’s body is pressing down on top of her, licking into her mouth, thumbing her breasts, her thighs, her ass.
The sheets stick to Lena’s skin, which is still wet, and slippery with lube and lather, but Lena couldn’t care less. “Off, off,” she directs, tugging at whatever offending article of Kara’s clothing she can reach. When Kara’s golden, freckled skin is naked against her, Lena pushes down hard on the top of her head.
“You’re going to finish what you started,” Lena rasps, “and this time don’t you dare stop.”
“Yes ma’am,” Kara teases, a sharp glint in her eye. She maintains eye contact as she spreads Lena’s thighs, hauling both of them over her shoulders. A wicked grin and a wink are the only other warning Lena gets before Kara buries her face between her thighs.
“Leave it,” Lena moans when Kara’s fingers find the tail end of the vibrator that’s still nestled where Kara left it. “Turn it—fuck! Turn it back on,” she says, her hips rolling into the broad, slick slide of Kara’s tongue. “I want you to—oh—fuck me while it’s still—still inside me.”
And so Kara does.
The width of her fingers gives Lena the deeply satisfying stretch she’s been craving, while the tips of her fingers help slot the toy more firmly against her, the vibrations rumbling into her clit from the inside. Kara’s fingers beckon in a rhythm that’s breathtakingly discordant with the vibrator’s thrum while her lips apply the perfect amount of suction to Lena’s clit, and sweet, merciful mother of god—
Lena is coming, she’s finally there, the relief that washes over her as crucial and profound as what Lena bewilderedly recognizes as the memory of her taking her very first breath.
Her orgasm envelops her like the warm, fragrant water of the bath, like a baptism, like mercy and absolution and sweet reward, engulfing her one after the other. Lena is swept up by the waves of it, one peak leading seamlessly into another until she's boneless, liquid, one with the swell of the tides.
Kara is relentless, precisely as Lena asked. Her eagerness to fulfill Lena’s demand, the willingness to give her more than Lena would ever even have thought to wish for is almost a cruelty in itself, and in the end, Lena has to collect her limbs and her presence of mind and use it to tell Kara to “Stop, enough,” exhausted, spent, and sore.
As Lena’s spirit returns to her physical form, she becomes aware of a faint ringing in her ears.
It takes her an embarrassingly long time to realize it’s the blaring alarm of her phone, forgotten on the vanity in the bathroom.
“Oh, shoot!” Kara yells. She scrambles out of bed to retrieve it, still naked, her feet skidding on the wet hardwood of Lena’s bedroom floor. Her eyes linger guiltily on Lena’s chest when she hands her her phone, not even bothering to look at the screen.
210 it blazes, in fire-engine red.
Lena falls back into her soaking sheets with a huff, her hair a wet mop on her pillow and her thighs still trembling. “Well fuck,” she says, tossing her phone vaguely in the direction of the nightstand by her bed and slinging a defeated arm over her face.
“Should we, you know.” Kara crouches beside her to tug her arm away, before making a typing motion in the air with her fingers. “Circle back to plan A?”
Oh, plan A? The perfect plan, which Kara herself had so expertly derailed?
Lena glares at her. “It's too late for that. The input is uploaded live into the cloud. I doubt you’re suggesting breaking in to Dr. Singh’s servers.” She groans. “God damn it.”
“So,” Kara says, sheepishly drawing out the sound. “I guess you’re on the hook for that stress test, huh?”
“It’s okay,” Lena sighs, reaching out to put a reassuring hand on Kara’s knee. “This is on me as much as it is on you.” Her thumb starts stroking over the soft skin at the inside of Kara’s thigh without thinking, following the prominent curve of muscle.
Kara perks up a little at that, and then a little more, a devious gleam in her eyes. “Hey,” she says, the timbre of her voice a full 180 from her momentary bashfulness. “Do you think we could persuade Dr. Singh to let you take that one home, too?”
Lena glowers at her for a moment.
And then she pulls Kara down onto the bed, climbing over to straddle her, Kara’s center pressed against her own.
It’s time to introduce her girlfriend to a fun little concept that is conventionally considered to be fair play:
Turnabout.