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. This is a companion piece to The Morning After. Thanks for reading, as always! (feed the bard). Beta/Proofing: pdt & bed.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
The Night Before
By The Raven
Kissing the perfect shoulder that was so close to her aching lips, Andy felt the body of her soon-to-be-lover undulate under her.
It was the only word that Andy could think of using to describe this situation.
When her lips moved to the nape of a neck she had dreamed of touching, tasting. Of knowing from the moment she had caught glimpse of it, Andy moaned, unabashed and unashamed at her desire.
Desire was such a mild word to describe what she was feeling.
What other word could she use though?
Andy felt the tight clench of hunger in her body as she moved her mouth to the pulse point on Miranda's neck. And when she moved her mouth lower, she felt the burn of desire blaze to an inferno.
For this, she would live, or die. How could she not?
There was no other word to describe Miranda. With her crystalline blue eyes dark with passion, her skin flush with arousal. Seeing Miranda with all of her barriers down, striped away, made Andy forget her own name. Only now mattered, only now.
How they had ended up here did not seem to matter. Only that they were here now actually meant anything. Only now, only the taste of fresh sweat on Miranda's soft skin was important. Only this. Only now.
The moments that led to now were of course, significant. How could they not be? As Andy kissed her way down Miranda's body, flashes of history, of Miranda, entered her mind.
The moment they had met. Many moments in the car, in the office. The times that those demanding eyes had consumed her, destroyed her, rebuilt her. But, only now mattered, nothing else.
When Miranda moaned and buried her hands in Andy's hair, it felt as if someone had torn Andy's mooring loose. Like she was adrift in a sea of sensation, of overwhelming emotion.
When Miranda begged her to keep going. To not stop. When Miranda had screamed her pleasure into the dark night. When Andy had sobbed her own pleasure into Miranda's hot mouth. When these things had happened, Andy knew that she had found a truth.
Later, as she lay curled around Miranda while they fell asleep. When she watched her lover sleep, Andy knew that it was a truth she would not relinquish without a fight and even then she would not let it go.
As she felt the caress of sleep start to overtake her senses in the dark night, Andy knew that her fate was inescapable even if she had wanted to run from it; she was in love with Miranda Priestly...
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