You wake up when the bed shifts and the blanket rustles with the sounds of someone climbing in behind you. You don't bother moving, content to lay facing the wall with your eyes closed.
"Evie?" you say softly, needing to know.
"Yes, I'm here," she says, lifting the blankets so she can slide in behind you properly. "Go back to sleep, love."
You're about to do so when Evie's front finally makes contact with your back. Normally this is something you enjoy greatly, but—
"Cold!" you gasp out, arching away from her. "Coldcoldcold!"
"Sorry," Evie says. She does not sound sorry in the least. In fact, she sounds the opposite of sorry.
You say as much to her, and she says, "Oh, well, in that case I do apologize. You must allow me to make it up to you," just before slipping her very cold hands up underneath your nightgown to rest against your no longer warm stomach.
"Evie," you whine, but you only get laughter in reply. Your lover is rude. There's only one thing to do: initiate a ticklishness versus cold hands war.
Evie wins, of course. She has the advantage, being both taller than you and less ticklish, but you still make the attempt. And either way, both of you are warmed up now and Evie can rest her hands on the bare skin of your belly, right where both of you like them, without any difficulty.
You lay on the bed together in silence after the tickle fight runs down, Evie spooned up behind you. It's late, and you are very tired and very warm now that Evie is here, and you are falling back asleep very quickly.
"Tell me your safeword," Evie says quietly, in the calculating tone you know so well.
Your eyes shoot open.
"January," you croak out. " 'S January."
"Good," she says. "And you'll use it if or when you need to?"
"Yes, Miss Evie," you say, body already tensing in anticipation.
"And so we begin," she says, one hand sliding up your chest to play with one of your breasts.
The other is sliding downwards and—oh, from this angle, Evie wrapping her arms around your front, she can turn her hand so that one of her fingers slips inside you while her thumb rubs against your clit.
You can't mange to hold back a soft moan.
"Warn me when you're close to coming, understand?"
You don't say anything in reply, simply nodding despite your shudder.
Evie pinches one of your nipples. "Do you understand?"
"Y-yes, Miss Evie," you gasp out. She releases your nipple at that, rubbing it gently to soothe the pain.
"Very good," she says softly. You can't believe how much has changed over the past few months; the thought of Evie as she was when you first tumbled into bed together, all awkward words and uncertain confidence, is absolutely unbelievable. The glimpses of confidence and control that you saw at first have blossomed into this creature that seems born of dominance and power. You're almost certain that no one would believe you if you told them of how confused and uncertain Evie was the first time you asked her to tie you up, both of you blushing and turned on in equal amounts.
You're caught by surprise when Evie moves her hands away from your body so she can slip your nightgown over your head. She brushes your hair off the back of your neck before returning her hands to their previous locations with a vengeance. Now that the nightgown isn't constraining her, Evie is free to slip a second finger inside you and begin thrusting her fingers properly. Her thumb still toys with your clit, rubbing small circles just below with the occasional flick or tap directly on it. Her other hand has switched to your other breast and nipple, presumably to stop either from getting too sensitive, and the sensation is driving you mad. The gentle bites Evie is leaving against the back of your neck aren't helping, either.
Over the past months, you have found that having an alarmingly dexterous and coordinated lover is both a blessing and a curse.
Soon, you begin rocking your hips down in time with the upward thrust of Evie's fingers inside of you. You tend to come fairly quickly, and it appears that tonight is no exception.
When you begin to feel the tightening sensation in your belly and nether regions that signals impending orgasm, you dutifully gasp out Evie's name.
She takes her hands away and places them back on your belly immediately. The transition is painful; being so close to coming and then having any chances of an orgasm occurring abruptly taken away is always jarring. At that moment, nothing has ever felt worse than the emptiness inside you and the lack of friction against your breasts and clit.
It's also a sensation you enjoy far more than is proper, you suspect, but Evie likes turning you into a shivering, desperate mess and you enjoy being one. It all works out.
You whine, mostly for show, and press your thighs together in an attempt to soothe your aching cunt. It doesn't do a whole lot, and you know that no matter how much you enjoy this, it's only going to get worse from here on out.
"You're alright, love. You're fine. I'm so proud of you for warning me, love. You did so well," Evie whispers, a quiet litany of praise in your ear. You take a shuddering breath and move your arms so that they're resting on top of Evie's on your belly, fingers interlaced. You calm down slowly, relaxing into the soft kisses Evie is laying on the nape of your neck. You twist around so you can press clumsy kisses to her lips, wanting the contact more than you care about the angle.
After a few minutes of this, Evie pulls back, shifting until she can look you in the eye. Backlit by the fire, you can barely make out the features of her face, let alone the freckles and bright blue-green eyes that you love so much.
"I don't want you to try and stop yourself from coming. Just tell me when you're about to, and I'll worry about the rest. Do you understand?"
You nod quickly, belatedly adding, "Yes, Miss Evie."
She nods sharply, the corner of her mouth turning up in a smirk. "And you'll use your safeword if you need to?"
"Yes, Miss Evie," you say softly. She smiles properly before turning both of you back to your previous positions.
Once again, Evie uses fingers against and inside you to work you close to orgasm before pulling back at your warning. This time, however, she doesn't give you nearly as long of a break before she starts up again.
The pattern continues like this; Evie working you almost to orgasm and backing off, then letting you relax some before resuming her activities. Every time, your break gets shorter, as does the time it takes to bring you to the brink of orgasm.
You aren't sure how long this goes on for; you lost count after you were prevented from orgasming for the fourth time. Now Evie isn't even bothering to move her hands away from your body, simply ceasing their motion instead. This is probably for the better; you're so sensitive that everything she does skates along the thin line between pleasure and outright pain. You aren't sure what losing the sensation of Evie's fingers inside of and against you would do, and you don't want to find out.
This time, when she resumes outright fucking you with her fingers and toying with your clit and breasts, you gasp, "Evie," not managing to say anything else.
"I do like it when you say my name," Evie says, purring directly into your ear.
"Evie," you say again, "Evie, please."
"Please let me come," you say, close to begging.
"Hmm," Evie says. "No, no I don't think I shall. You're far too pretty when you're all worked up like this."
"Oh, come on," you say, groaning. "This can't be that good for you."
"You tell me," Evie says, moving her hand off your breast to pull one of yours back with her, towards her cunt, and—
Oh god, Evie's wet, she's so wet, as your fingers rub along her folds you accidentally touch her clit and you can feel the insides of her thighs twitch and you need to be going down on Evie right this second oh god.
May I eat you out, Miss Evie, please?" you beg, forgetting about your own desperate need to come for the moment.
Evie moans softly in response. It's very gratifying.
"How about this," she says, "you hold yourself back from coming for as long as possible, and then you can go down on me. Understood?"
"Yes, Miss Evie," you say.
Evie moves her hand back to your breast and redoubles her efforts and all of a sudden it's your turn to moan. After all this time, both your nipples have become extremely sensitive, lighting bolts of sensation traveling through you at the lightest touch. Evie is thumbing over one, far more lightly than you thought was possible, and it's driving you absolutely crazy.
It takes every bit of control you have and some you didn't know existed to stop yourself from coming. There are tears prickling at the corners of your eyes and spilling down onto your cheeks. You're breathing so hard, impossibly hard, and your entire body tries to clench up every time Evie brushes over your clit.
"Evie," you say, needing God-knows-what from your lover and hoping that she understands your body better than you do.
"Shh, love, you're all right," she says. "You've been so wonderful, go ahead and come whenever you like. You're so pretty when you come, my love, it drives me up the wall every single time—"
As she says this, Evie crooks the fingers still inside you, hitting a particularly good angle, tweaks your clit and tugs gently on a nipple, all at the same time—
Everything goes white as you cry out, every muscle in your body tensing as you arch your back. You don't know how long your orgasm lasted, only that Evie dragged it out for as long as possible.
When you've finally relaxed again and wiggling away from Evie's fingers, because at this point it really is just plain painful, she sits up against the headboard and pulls her own nightgown, already rucked up around her waist, off completely. Quite frankly, you get distracted by the view, and hardly notice Evie tugging you up towards her and turning you onto your belly.
"Well?" Evie says, carding a hand through your hair, "Are you still planning to go down on me, or have your plans changed?"
"Sorry, Miss Evie!" you say, wiggling a little further forward on the bed. "Don't worry, I've been looking forward to this, it's still on tonight's menu."
"Was that a fucking pun—" Evie says, voice breaking on a moan as her back arches. You grin against her folds, one finger still inside Evie.
You pull back enough to say, "Technically, so was that," before diving back in to the sound of Evie cursing.
You relax into a near-rhythm quickly, changing up the motions of your tongue against her clit or labia while steadily grinding the finger inside her. If there's one thing you love in this world, it's going down on Evie Frye. Her hands tugging at your hair, the taste and smell of her, the way she sometimes forgets herself and thrusts her hips forward and prevents you from breathing—
Well. The point is, you could lay in between Evie's legs, one hand on a thigh and the other joining your mouth at her cunt, forever and be very content with your life.
After what seems like a very short time, Evie's grip on your hair tightens and she arches against your mouth, coming with a low moan. When she's done, you pull back and wipe your mouth off, freezing out of a sudden nervousness that you can't place.
Evie shifts back down the bed and tugs you on top of her, wrapping her arms around your back. You expect to be turned on by the sensation of her bare breasts brushing against your own in the morning, but as it stands, you're too tired.
"You alright, love?" Evie says softly.
You mumble something in reply.
"Yeah, let's get some rest. You were so good for me, darling, you did so well. I'm so proud of you, love," Evie says, rubbing your back gently.
"Love you, Evie," is the last thing you say before falling asleep, your head tucked into your lover's shoulder.