DISCLAIMER: The Devil Wears Prada and its characters belong to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Just some fun. There will be a companion piece called, The Night Before. Thanks for reading, as always! (feed the bard). Beta/Proofing: pdt & bed.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
The Morning After
By The Raven
Wakefulness came slowly. A luxurious stretch and she opened her eyes. A few things happened then. One of them was that she realised that she was not alone in her bed. Another was that her body was pleasantly sore in a telltale way that whispered to her about the night before.
Miranda looked over at the bed beside her, at the body that was flush with her own. Curves, sensuality, softness. Erotic memory seared her brain even as she tried to collect her thoughts.
Andrea Sachs was in bed with her. Miranda had been neither drunk, nor out of her mind when this had happened. Neither had Andrea. Rather, it seemed that they had simply given in. Finally.
Given in to the need to touch, the compulsion to kiss. Had stopped resisting the heat that flared between them whenever they were in vicinity of each other.
How had it happened?
Why had they waited so long?
The silky softness of Andrea's lush hair tickled the sensitive skin on the side of her breast, completely distracting Miranda from whatever thoughts she was having.
Andrea, whose mouth tasted of lust and whose body spoke a primal language that Miranda's own body keen in reaction. Once the line had been crossed, there was no going back.
When had this started? The moment they met? When Andrea had been wearing that dreadful sweater? Why had Miranda hired her?
Miranda watched as her own hand caressed the skin on Andrea's side. It was fascinating to see a part of her own body seem to act out of its own will, seeming against her will.
Her hands, which had touched Andrea. Held her. Fucked her. The thought scorched Miranda's mind and she felt her self control falter. As if she had ever had any self control around this woman...
Never, really. Miranda could not recall a time when she had not wanted to kiss the sensitive flesh at the base of Andrea's neck. A place where she would not have wanted to run her hands across Andrea's skin. Try as she might, she could not remember a time where she would not have wanted this thing.
And now she had it.
By now, Andrea had started to wake up and Miranda felt her breath catch and her heartbeat stutter as those hands explored her anew. Hands that had conquered her and set her free last night. Hands that had made her scream, that had made her beg.
Miranda closed her eyes at the memory of it. Andrea, beneath her, looking up at her with ravenous hunger. Those dark eyes had burned with a fire that had threatened to immolate Miranda. And she had wanted to burn. No one else had this power, only Andrea.
Her lover was awake now, and yes, Andrea was her lover now, just as surely as the sun would always rise. Miranda could feel the touch of dark eyes, and she knew now that she could not resist them, either.
All thoughts stopped when Andrea leaned over her, when Andrea kissed her. Her body would not be denied what her heart had finally won and with that, Miranda gave herself over to the dawn of a desire that she never wanted to lose and one that she would never let go of, either.
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