Clandestine (Chaennie Fanfiction)

Chapter Twenty Seven

Jennie winks and in one swift movement, you're on the bed and under her, "The duvet!" you exclaim in laughter and regret when you realize what she meant. She laughs with you, her lips descending on your neck and pressing you deeper into the mattress to wrinkle the sheets, "After how many times I had done and redone this?" you joke.

"Let me be the one to make up for it then" her hands are all over you like her eyes were, and you feel yourself submitting to her within the seconds that go in her touch.

"I know you well enough to expect no tidying up from you. Shall I ring Wendy in?" your breath hitches when she licks your sweet spot and it signals the heat of your core to buck your hips to hers.

It's been a while. Ever since your loss of control with Jennie, you haven't found yourselves tangled in each other like this. Other than the bruising kisses and feathered touches, you and Jennie haven't indulged any further- not that it was uncalled for or unnatural or anything of the sort, but because of busy schedules and vanilla escapades, and not to mention your synced cycles of menstruation had occurred at such prompted timing.

Perhaps, it was a cause for your overwrought emotions and overthinking last week, but now that the red had stopped seeping and the desires flare un-candid in your moans as Jennie touches you, you can't put the blame on hormones as you think to stop because you're afraid you might hurt her again.

You lack trust in your own body- wonder when the thirst will reach the brim or the crave will hunger for too much.

Jennie moans in your mouth, dominating your tongue with every stroke- and she has no trouble taking over the reins as she holds your hands and pins your arms above your head, grinding down while she devours you.

Your dress hikes up with every thrust of her hips and when the belt of her jeans grazes your clothed clit, you moan loudly. The silk of your panties dampen and the pulse intensifies as Jennie moves. Pulling away for air, Jennie's hot breath hits the crook of your nape, spreading the heat through your body and her grunts are pleasure to your ears.

She swings her leg over yours and when her knee hits your center, you know you can't stop from getting this release.

Her name drips off your lips like honey, breath rapid in the escalating endeavors. You open your legs, moving to her rhythm as she finds a steady pace to rock her hips on your thigh and her knee grazing against your wet folds.

Jennie pushes her front up, heavy lidded eyes boring into you. Her mouth is parted beautifully in taking in the pleasure with each grind. She gasps when you flex your leg, pushing up to meet between her. And the tingles of your stomach crawl its way to your trapped hands.

You burn to strip her off those jeans and feel her hot wetness smear all over your skin. The need is just as powerful and strong as the internal force telling you not to do exactly that. You don't trust yourself.

Jennie loosens her grip on one hand and holds down your wrists with just the other. She brings her forefinger to your covered clit and all your thoughts cloud with pleasure when she flicks your bud rapidly, "Oh Jennie-" your eyes shut and back arches, "Please" you feel the warmth shooting down to your stomach and your muscles tense in heightened sensations.

Jennie keeps going. She rocks harder and faster, her breathing getting heavier as she goes. And she centers on the wet patch of your underwear, rubbing over your folds like she would push in with the soft fabric between. You bite your lip hard enough to cut it open in favor of keeping quiet, but whines and moans imbue the air in your arousal.