DISCLAIMER: The Devil Wears Prada and its characters belong to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
She slowly ran a hand up a slender thigh while her other hand buried itself deeper in her lover's white hair, her caresses making the other woman moan.
God...She really loved the sounds the older woman was making. Actually if she had to be totally honest she was just good old plain in love with the white haired woman currently in her arms.
Samantha knew it was a bad idea to admit to those feelings, even if it was only in her own mind. She knew that Miranda Priestly didn't do feelings, at least not with her she didn't. And what they were doing now definitely had nothing to do with feelings.
Samantha wasn't naive and she had the scheme of it all figured out pretty quickly. She was a substitute for someone else. Who that was was still a mystery, and as long as she didn't know she could pretend that it really was her Miranda was fucking six days from Sunday against a bathroom wall.
When Samantha came she moaned Miranda's name. It took a couple of seconds for her to recover, but as she was once again able to think clearly she wasted no time in turning them around so she had Miranda pinned against the wall.
Looking into the crystal clear blue eyes of the woman before her she could see the frustration of not being satisfied yet. Sinking to her knees she grabbed the hem of Miranda's dress and pushed it up past her hips.
Knowing that they didn't have time for slow and thorough, not that they ever did, she dove in. Miranda was sopping wet and Samantha had no problem inserting two fingers into Miranda.
Setting a steady pace it didn't take long for Samantha to have Miranda panting under her touch. Miranda's hands were clenched firmly in her hair. Deciding she had held off long enough Samantha sucked down hard on Miranda's clit.
The older woman was never very loud when she came and tonight was no exception. However, over the slight pain of having her hair pulled she heard the name on Miranda's lips and in that moment she couldn't pretend anymore.
She knew this was going to be the last time her and Miranda would be doing this. For that reason she wanted to make this time different than the others.
As Samantha got to her feet she felt a sadness settle in her soul, the knowledge that she hadn't been enough was like a punch to the stomach driving a small sob from her lips.
Miranda hadn't recovered fully from the orgasm that Samantha had provided and didn't have the coordination to dodge the kiss Samantha placed on her lips.
In all the weeks this had been going on they had never kissed, not once, it would have made it too intermit made it seem like there were actual feelings involved and that would have been a lie, at least at first. But this last time Samantha needed to feel the texture of Miranda's lips just once.
When the kiss ended Samantha opened her eyes to focus on the face in front of her. The stunned expression would have been funny if not for the fact that Miranda had been totally unresponsive in the kiss and that the expression only stayed stunned for a split second before it morphed to a displeased frown.
There really was no going back now, it really was a goodbye and now they both knew it. Samantha closed her eyes and turned away from the person she had come to care to much for.
She began to walk away from the woman who had stolen her heart but who would never return the gesture. As she tried to calm her thoughts the name Miranda had moaned as she came kept repeating in her head.
Miranda's voice had caressed the name in a way her hands had never touched Samantha if only it had been Samantha's name that had crossed the older woman's lips Samantha would have been able to keep on pretending. Instead her last memory of Miranda's voice would be a breathy utterance of Ahhhn...drea.
Return to The Devil Wears Prada Fiction
Return to Main Page