LOTS - CARA/KAHLAN

Hot Pink and Black

ministress

Title: Hot Pink and Black

Author: ministress

Rating: NC–17 / M

Word count: 7403

Pairing: Cara/Kahlan

Summary: In an alternate universe where Cara is a motorcycle racer and Kahlan is a judge… Ok, I don’t normally like AU fics all that much, but I had fun writing this one and I hope you enjoy it.

Up and down the shaft she moved, grasping, caressing, licking the fingers on her other hand seductively, and sliding them down to slick the tip of the toy. “It’s called ‘The Agiel,’ don’t ask me what that means. I just liked the look of it. Almost familiar.

Disclaimer: Legend of the Seeker characters are owned by Terry Goodkind and ABC. No copyright infringement is intended. It’s just fiction.

Special Note: This was originally written for the Secret Seeker Kink 4: Underground/Underworld Ficathon!, but I got sidetracked and it didn’t make it there in time… and then it got way too long. I’d like to thank beerbad for the prompt (Cara/Kahlan – strap–on), and dedicate it to cleocallisto for all the help and inspiration. And thanks to seven_3_oh for some much needed encouragement.

Hot Pink and Black

ministress

The last few blocks were always the longest, Cara thought as she raced up the driveway, her Ducati Multistrada purring softly under her. It was definitely no “bag of spoons,” she concluded, reminiscing fondly about her first bike. Pressing the keychain garage door opener, she ducked under the metal as it rose, braking hard and sliding the bike sideways into place at the back end, stopping inches from the wall. As she removed her helmet and flipped down the kick, she inspected the long black tire trail on the cement floor, proud of how the ever–darkening streak reminded her, almost proved to her, that this was really her home.

She burst into the room, unapologetic and loud, a shopping bag under her arm. Their lush Seattle Victorian, overlooking the harbor, was otherwise quiet; the last rays of sun were rapidly vanishing, illuminating Mount Rainier in a golden glow as purple shadows blanketed the house. Warm and inviting despite the usual dismal northwestern gloominess, their home beckoned visitors and friends, and often overflowed with more guests than it could comfortably hold.

Horace Andy’s “Ain’t No Sunshine When She’s Gone” emanated from the stereo, and Cara smiled wanly to herself, knowing that with Kahlan things were seldom coincidental. Her heart wrenched when they were apart; apparently Kahlan’s did the same. She understood why Kahlan preferred reggae: it was both happy and bitter, soulful and joyous, calming yet full of rebellion against corrupt governments. Above all else, Kahlan favored truth, and roots reggae was exactly that in music.

“Hey, hon… how was your race?” Kahlan eyed Cara’s shiny paper bag, hot pink and black and very conspicuous.

“Oh, it was good. It was just the trials today, so nothing too exciting. I placed first in all three.” By the way she said that, it was clear there was obviously no other alternative outcome. She was not conceited, merely factual—a trait Kahlan found most endearing, and not simply because of her job.

Picking up the newspaper, Kahlan opened it to page 4 and pointed at the article. “You made the news again!” The headline read: Local Supercross Favorite Cara Mordsith Heads for Nationals. A picture of Cara wearing red racing leathers standing next to her Honda CRF was inset in the article, a lopsided happy face, two scribbles, the letter C with some swirls around it, and a small red heart doodled in the margin.

“Yup, I signed the deal this morning! It’s going to mean I’ll be gone for a few weeks, though.” She looked happy, but somewhat hesitant. Secretly she loved Kahlan’s silly doodles, and had a collection of them stashed in a tin in one of her old racing boots, the one place she was sure they’d never be found.

Kahlan frowned slightly, but quickly put on a brave smile to cover it. “I’ll live. I have lots of cases coming up. This time of year always brings out the crazy in people, and they depend on me to solve all their problems,” she laughed, suddenly feeling better. As the youngest justice on the Seattle Criminal Court, Judge Amnell was known for her fairness and integrity, and her rulings were almost never appealed. She carried her importance the same way she carried her empty glass of wine over to the sink and started to rinse it, the water diluting the blood red drops and washing them away.

Sneaking up behind the brunette, Cara snaked her arms around her, pulling her close and kissing that soft spot on the side of her neck that drove Kahlan wild. She smelled slightly of orange blossom conditioner, and Cara closed her eyes as she breathed in the scent.

“Mmmm, stop.” Kahlan inhaled through her teeth. “We’ll be late for dinner. Our reservations are in an hour.” She set the glass down carefully and turned off the faucet, a slight tremor evident in her right thigh. “What’s in the bag, anyway?”

Knowing curiosity was her great weakness, Cara teased her more, licking her ear and holding her even tighter. “Objection, Your Honor… the judge herself can’t stand not knowing!” She bit her earlobe lightly. “Wouldn’t it be boring if everything was laid out in plain sight for you? No mystery whatsoever.” A very slight snicker increased the tremor. She couldn’t help herself, and burst out laughing.

“Gaaaaahhgh, tell me!” Kahlan rubbed her arm to calm the chills which had mysteriously appeared there, both devastating and exciting. One of their cats, Gabrielle, scurried around the corner to see what was going on without her, but left just as quickly when she realized it was ‘that’ again.

“Come find out.” Cara released her, and in one swoop snatched the bag from the table and took off into the bedroom, the other woman right behind her. With a smug grin, she tossed Kahlan the bag while she started unzipping her cycling leathers; inside was a golden cat, long and lithe, ready to pounce.

Kahlan wasn’t sure whether to keep watching or look in the bag, but sure enough, she was too inquisitive and ripped the pink and black paper apart. A small “Oh!” slipped out as she removed a very odd–looking reddish toy, complete with matching leather harness. She blushed nearly as red while Cara stifled a smirk.

“After all these years, I can still embarrass you!”

“I’m not embarrassed,” Kahlan gushed. “Just… well… you know…” The red wasn’t fading, so she looked down at the floor, then the dresser, then the door, hoping that would help. It didn’t.

Cara, down to her sports bra and soft black brushed cotton boxers, took a few steps over and threw her arms around Kahlan, comforting her but delighting in the fact that she could still elicit such a response. She whispered something in her ear, and Kahlan turned a few shades darker. Pulling back a little, she tilted her head to look in Kahlan’s eyes, which were still glancing nervously around the room. “Want me to put it on?”

“Uhrrrrh…” It never failed to astound her that she could be so focused and coherent in court and so befuddled when Cara was around. She couldn’t think of anything else to say, and her bottom lip stretched out to one side.

Cara just laughed and grabbed her hands, pulling her onto the bed. “We’ve got a few minutes… how about we take it for a… test drive?” She started unbuttoning Kahlan’s dress, kissing down after her fingers as each button exposed a little more of the creamy skin imprisoned therein. Kahlan was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen, the love of her life, and she knew she’d never tire of this. She slipped the garment off, tossing it casually on the nearby chair.

Determined to be a little more than a simpering puddle of indecisiveness, Kahlan managed to blurt out, “Mmm hmmm.” It was an octave higher than she meant.

Flashing a large smile at the flustered woman next to her, Cara stood up and slipped off her boxers, very slowly, watching Kahlan’s eyes grow deeper, watching her lick her lips subconsciously. Pulling the harness on, she adjusted the buckles till it was snug, noting with satisfaction that Kahlan had started trembling and could not remove her gaze. She ran her hand down and then back up her golden thigh, just one time, but enough to make Kahlan swallow a huge lump in her throat, eyes even bigger.

Cara felt a little evil. “But what about dinner?” Her tone was sweet, masking the deviousness lurking just below the surface.

Kahlan was too far gone to think, eyes still glued to Cara’s thigh, to the hand lingering there, taunting. She was afraid to blink, in case she might miss something.

The evil Cara’s smile expanded; she picked up the toy, carelessly yet deliberately stroking its length, the red contrasting with her skin. Up and down the shaft she moved, grasping, caressing, licking the fingers on her other hand seductively, and sliding them down to slick the tip of the toy. “It’s called ‘The Agiel,’ don’t ask me what that means. I just liked the look of it. Almost familiar. Something sexy and powerful and….. Kahlan?” A tiny drop of blood was welling up from Kahlan’s lip, where she had inadvertently bitten it.

Craning her neck to get a better look at the blood, Cara smiled even wider, if that was possible. She exhaled deeply and slipped the toy into the harness ring. It was a tight fit and she tugged a little to adjust it. Kahlan’s tongue lolled out lapping at the trickle of red marring her lip, her eyes bulged, a light sheen of moisture coated the skin on her chest. Not sure if Cara’s grin was more captivating than the toy, she simply moaned and lay backwards, eyes never leaving the other woman. Heart thumping wildly now, she realized that Cara was much more intoxicating than the red wine she had been drinking.

Cara leisurely strolled the two steps to the bed, her well–toned muscle definition echoing the raw power she conveyed. Opening the nightstand, she carefully removed a small bottle of lube, squeezing out a glistening trail down the length of the toy. As she coated the shaft, the slick sticky gel clung to it; she slid her fingers along the toy, rubbing, stroking, watching Kahlan’s eyes focus and unfocus on them. The lube was rather unnecessary, and both women knew it was applied more for the mind than the body.

Narrowing her eyes slightly, Cara wondered what it was about this woman that drew her so. “Oh, look at this… I accidentally got it all sticky. I should go wash this immediately.” The mirth she tried to mask spilled out, encompassing them. Before the last syllable was even uttered, Kahlan had grasped her wrist; there was to be no teasing now. She blinked, and when her eyes opened again, they were looking wistfully to the side, slightly disconnected, like her smile. In that instant, with a single touch, her question had been answered.

Kahlan’s lips parted, and Cara, returning her gaze, suddenly felt more like the prey instead of the predator, her every instinct cried out for her to run, but she could not. Instead, she leaned down and kissed the hunter below her, the woman she had left Australia for, the woman she loved without understanding or needing the logic behind that. Soft lips met hers, a faint hint of blood still lingering on them; she fell on top of her predator, blanketing her with her own skin, one leg bent at Kahlan’s side to accommodate her weight, the other stretching down so she could slide the sole of her foot along Kahlan’s ankle.

Tenderly she pressed her palm to Kahlan’s heart, longing to touch more than only skin. Her other hand moved between Kahlan’s thighs, sliding her middle finger up the wetness between them, eliciting a soft moan as they both realized that the more often this happened, the more they craved it. She stared deep into the judge’s eyes, watching them darken slightly in anticipation, seeing her own love mirrored there. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, she slipped the finger in, withdrawing it just as slowly.

Kahlan’s eyes closed, her senses reeling. A second finger sent the rest of her reeling, and she groaned. Shifting a little to the side, Cara moved over to kiss her ear, the toy seemingly forgotten as her fingers slid in and out, back and forth. “We should go,” she whispered softly, withdrawing her hand. “This will wait till later.”

Whimpering just a little, Kahlan nodded. Anticipation was often nearly as good as actual sex, and she had left Cara hanging on the edge enough times to acquiesce tonight. They played this game often, and although a little disappointed, she was well aware that what would happen later would more than make up for it. As Cara rolled off the bed and vanished into the bathroom to wash the toy, Kahlan called a cab. Tonight was definitely not a night for attempting to drive, not with her legs wobbly and her head wobblier, and no way would she be able to balance on the Ducati. She laughed to herself, imagining them both sliding off the seat due to the excessive wetness between their legs.

Sighing, she rose and headed to the closet. Selecting a tight dark red dress which accentuated her cleavage, she squeezed herself into it, still grinning about her thoughts; despite her best efforts, her laughter managed to escape anyway, in the form of a few exhaled snickers. Of course Cara heard, and peeked around the bathroom door to see what was so funny that she was missing. Kahlan laughed even more at this, her face contorting while she tried to control herself; Cara knew her far too well to let this slide. Slide. She giggled out loud this time, her own description making her giddy. One eye twitched and Cara’s insane peering was about to make her lose it for real. Of course Cara had to make it worse, of course Cara had to run over and stare right in her face, of course Cara had to start laughing too, without even knowing why. She bit her lip again, wincing as the blood from the previous wound welled up again. It was just enough to keep her from sinking into the inescapable depths of hilarity within her head.

“What’s so funny?” Cara demanded, her green eyes boring into Kahlan’s teary blue ones, squinting to retain composure.

“Oh… you know me.”

“Come on, spit it out!” Cara raised an eyebrow way up, ludicrously up, and Kahlan had to look away to prevent herself from completely busting up.

“I just… I was… imagining, um… trying not to… s–slip off your bike,” she managed to mumble, indicating the soggy culprit hiding under her dress where her legs joined.

Cara grabbed her head and kissed her. For someone in such a formal position of responsibility, Kahlan’s lack of seriousness at times like this was one of the many reasons she adored her so much. She smiled against Kahlan’s lips, whispering, “I love you” softly against them. Withdrawing, she yanked a pair of black slacks and a ruffly white shirt with mother–of–pearl buttons from the closet, and put them on without looking away from the mirthful blue eyes staring back. Finally she glanced down, selecting a nice comfortable pair of boots. She made her way to the bed, stopping at the dresser for some socks, and stuck her hand in the boot to make sure there was nothing hiding in there, like the cricket she once discovered a little too late. Her fingers latched onto a small piece of paper… a doodle carefully placed in the toe. It was a poorly–drawn motorcycle with a happy stick figure rider, and it said “wheeeee!” under it. Looking up, she saw Kahlan smiling at her and knew her secret stash of art had been discovered. After pulling on her boots, she deposited the drawing in the tin with the others, shaking her head slightly. It had been the fifth place she thought would never be found.

The phone rang, and Kahlan blanched, her mood suddenly altered by reality. It was the driver from Margrave’s Taxi, announcing his arrival. “Can you stall him for a minute?” she begged. Cara just nodded and headed outside. Quickly, Kahlan pulled on a slip and some black lace hose, and stepped into a pair of elegant pumps. Glancing once in the mirror to smooth her hair, she turned off the stereo, flipped the lights, and ran out the door, collecting her handbag along the way.

At least the taxi ride was uneventful, giving the women time to cool off a little; they pulled up alongside Ristoranti Aydindril just as Cara finished reapplying her eyeliner and lipstick. The cabbie’s name was Gar, and she tipped him extra for driving carefully; they strolled arm–in–arm into the restaurant.

“Good evening, Ms. Mordsith,” the hostess said shyly, eyeing her low–cut blouse appreciatively. She flicked her eyes at Kahlan and tilted her head to indicate the table’s direction. “Judge Amnell… Right this way.” Traipsing past the crowd of people in the lobby waiting for tables, she led the two women to a secluded spot near the fire. “I saved your table again,” she said, her admiration for Cara more than obvious as she puffed herself up with a very deep breath.

The instant she left, Kahlan glared at Cara. “Your groupie!” she complained, her tone somewhere between jealousy and pride. Cara simply smiled, pulling out the chair for her. With a mock huff, Kahlan sat, trying hard not to let her lips curl up at the edges and betray her.

“Yes, and just wait till you find out what I’m going to do to ‘my groupie’ when we get back home,” came the nonchalant turnabout. She was rewarded with a happy sigh, followed by a slight blush.

A few minutes later, a good–looking but nondescript new waiter named Leo arrived with some ice water and warm bread and asked if they had decided. Neither had opened their menu, but they both nodded. Kahlan wasted no time. “I’ll have the Tortellini al’ Forno… with the baby greens and raspberry vinaigrette on the side.” The waiter nodded and looked at Cara, smiling a little too much for Kahlan’s liking.

“How about… Spaghettini Ortolano, extra pinenuts. With feta on top. And a bottle of the Gaja Costa Russi,” she added, knowing that although it was quite pricey, it was Kahlan’s favorite.

“Cara!”

But she just looked at the waiter and handed him the menus, ignoring Kahlan’s admonishing scrutiny as he departed for the kitchen. She poured some olive oil on her plate, then drizzled balsamic vinegar on it. Taking the loaf of bread, she tore off a hunk and dipped it in the oil, swirling it absently around. Looking directly back at Kahlan, she raised the bread to her lips, licking the edge and taking a small bite, chewing it slowly, tongue flicking out to catch a stray droplet of oil.

At that very moment, the hostess, the restaurant, even the food seemed to disappear, and Kahlan found herself lost in Cara’s spell again. She reached for the bread but Cara pulled it slightly out of her grasp, still watching her. Her lips opened to say something, but before she could, Cara handed her the basket, smirking. Slowly, Kahlan took the bread, not looking away. The still evil, still smug Cara suddenly found a warm foot sliding up her leg, disguised by the darkness under the table; she closed her eyes and allowed the corners of her mouth to finally turn up, a slight mmmm escaping her lips.

The foot continued its path, heating her already overly warm inner thigh, pressing against the even warmer place at the end. It moved and dipped, insinuating, feeling. Cara inhaled and forgot to exhale, pressing against it, enjoying the clandestine sensation assaulting her.

“KAHLAN,” a loud voice announced, wrecking the moment. Cara’s eyes flew open, appalled at the inconvenient timing. “How are you, my dear?” It was Mr. Zorander, the puppeteer from “Wizard’s Fire” in the Pike Place Public Market. He had known Kahlan for years, as she had worked in his magic and trinkets shop while putting herself through school. “You remember my grandson?” He indicated the strangely handsome man accompanying him.

“Zedd!” She was happy to see him. “It’s been a long time. We must talk soon.” She turned to the younger man. “Yes, hello Richard,” she said charmingly, taking note of his well–defined muscles straining against the tight blue–gray shirt. He was desperately in need of a haircut, but was a nice guy nonetheless. Many years before, after a particularly long day and far too many pints of ale in O’Baneling’s Tavern, she had found herself locked in his passionate embrace, kissing him, allowing his hand to slide under her skirt… just the once, but it seemed he had not gotten over it. With a great flourish, he bowed to touch his lips to the back of her hand, and Cara rolled her eyes with mock fury.

“It’s so nice to see you, Kahlan,” he said, newly–whitened teeth glinting, as he flipped the hair out of his face and wondered what Cara had to offer that he didn’t. “Cara.” He barely glanced at her, but felt the need to acknowledge her for Kahlan’s sake.

The hostess cleared her throat impatiently, aware of Cara’s mild irritation, and led the two men to their table around the corner. She smiled at Cara on the way back, touching her shoulder accidentally on purpose. “Your food will be right up,” she remarked, as if that would make up for the interruption.

“Thank you, Salindra,” Cara mumbled. She was well aware of the hostess’s huge crush on her, and was a bit puzzled by the fact that it was usually better kept in check, although it was a full moon and that tended to make people more impetuous than normal.

Sure enough, not long after that the waiter brought the food and wine, pouring a little taste for Cara to approve first, then filling both their glasses. He also set a glass vase containing a small red flower on the table, much closer to Cara than to Kahlan, before shuffling off. “To your racing success,” Kahlan toasted, sliding the flower to the center of the table with her other hand. Cara clinked her glass lightly and grinned across the table. They were both hungrier than they cared to admit, and while the dinners were delicious, the wine was exquisite. Kahlan certainly enjoyed perfection.

Salindra, hips swaying gracefully as if practiced for years to make both men and women notice, strolled by yet again, leaning over seductively as she poured them each a second glass of wine before departing. Biting her tongue, Kahlan said nothing, but skimmed her foot up Cara’s shin, just enough to make her point, just enough to make Cara twitch.

Precisely then, her cell phone buzzed. Pulling it out of her pocket, she looked at the text: Bottle of wine says you can’t get Salindra’s panties tonight. What the…? Cara furtively glanced around the restaurant, finally noticing Mayor Darken Rahl and his third wife, Mistress Denna, the owner of Underworld, the adult toy store she had visited earlier. She and Denna were old friends who had somehow ended up in the same city on the opposite side of the world, and Cara suppressed a laugh as she realized Denna was up to her old tricks again. No problem, she texted back, accepting this new challenge. Kahlan feigned exasperation, having put up with their preposterous shenanigans for years.

“I’m going to the restroom,” Cara announced with obvious intent, smiling at Kahlan. “I’ll only be gone a few minutes.” Kahlan shrugged. It was pointless to argue, as she knew the competition between the two old friends was fierce and Cara was not about to lose. She watched as Cara walked the long way, past the hostess station, brushing up against Salindra. She watched the hostess lead a couple to their table, then hastily follow Cara into the ladies’ room. She watched Denna and the mayor observing the whole scene, obviously amused. She watched herself grimace in the back of the spoon she picked up to distract herself.

Once in the restroom, Cara pulled out her D’Haran Pink lipstick for a quick touch–up, and Salindra ambled in moments later, a questioning look on her face. “How would you like to do something… rather… indecent…?” she drawled, noting Salindra’s pupils widen to obscure the pale blue surrounding them. She moved in really close to the younger woman, taking her hand, and Salindra trembled, willing to do anything she asked, anything at all. Moving the other hand to her shoulder, Cara looked at her deeply, envisioning all sorts of things she could do to the attractive and very feminine blonde. Gliding around to stand behind the hostess, she wrapped both arms around her, looking at them in the mirror. Salindra moaned lightly and leaned back against her, feeling the taut muscles flex, knowing this was too good to be true but enjoying the moment nonetheless.

Cara debated whether to torment her further or be honest; much to her chagrin her integrity won out. “Ok, I won’t lie to you,” she admitted softly. “I made a bet with the mayor’s wife that I’d get your panties. Aghh. Sorry. Say no if you like, I won’t ask again.”

Salindra narrowed her eyes and cocked her head to one side, surveying the woman holding her in the mirror. Then she grinned and slid them off, right over her heels, turning to press them firmly into Cara’s hand. “I won’t tell anyone if you keep them instead,” she laughed. “Not even your girlfriend.” Before leaving, she kissed Cara on the cheek and whispered huskily, “Be sure to let me know if you ever dump her.” Cara sighed, the distinctly wet panties clenched tightly in her hand. Shaking her head to clear it, she strode back out, depositing the tiny black thong on the table in front of Denna. All this was not lost on Kahlan, who pointed back at the restroom, silently insisting Cara wash her hands before rejoining her.

When she returned again, Denna was at the table with a second bottle of wine, a scowling Mayor Rahl—who was obviously not happy with the price he had to pay for his wife’s frivolities—glaring at them. But her sensuous black and white dress, excessively low–cut in the back, more than made up for it; he realized he would pay ten times that price to watch her seductive walk across the restaurant again. The two women hugged briefly, Denna whispering “Cheater!” in Cara’s ear and Cara laughingly replying, “Loser!” before Denna returned to her own table, noticing that the panties had vanished and her husband was looking suspiciously over–casual. With a saccharine smile playing over her very red lips, she tossed her ash–blonde hair over her shoulder and covertly plotted the punishment he would receive later.

“What did you do?” Kahlan enquired, unsure if she needed to appear shocked.

With a smug smirk, Cara simply answered, “I asked.”

Slightly relieved by that reply, Kahlan poured them more wine, and they raised their glasses to Denna, who just nodded, a wistful look in her somewhat sad eyes. Instead of sitting across the table, Cara had slid in next to Kahlan, pressing their legs together and putting her arm around her shoulders. She leaned close, whispering, “You are the only one I want.”

Salindra wandered by with a slice of Death by Confession and handed them each a fork, winking knowingly at Cara. “Compliments of the house,” she said, and they devoured the creamy confection, decadently licking chocolate syrup and whipped cream off their fingers and feeding each other moist black cake and strawberries, unaware that a large number of restaurant patrons were staring enviously, wishing to be one or the other or between them. Eventually the last strawberry vanished along with their wine; they paid the check and asked Salindra to call a taxi. Cara slipped her a hundred dollar bill, and they wandered outside to wait, a cool ocean breeze drifting in from the harbor.

“Fucking lezzies!” A large man was glowering drunkenly at them from the corner, unimpressed with the fact that the two beautiful women holding hands were obviously not interested in him. Two of his buddies glared over his shoulders as he advanced on the women, as if he thought he could knock some sense into them.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Cara said casually. Fists raised, the man launched himself at her anyway; she sidestepped nimbly, pulling his arm to the side as he lost his balance and hit the brick wall behind her. Jumping up, he came at her again; with a whirling kick she sent him sprawling to the pavement, her boot pressed to the side of his head while he sputtered. Good thing they took kickboxing instead of the useless needlepoint Kahlan had suggested, Cara thought to herself as she grinned, enjoying the confrontation.

The other two surrounded Kahlan, and she planted her knee in one’s groin, then grasped the other around his neck and pushed him backwards into the wall, where he collapsed in a heap on the ground, groaning loudly. Kahlan shook her head at their ineptitude; taking Cara’s arm she moved close to be certain she was alright.

“Dykes!” snarled the large man on the ground, not willing to be beaten so easily.

“Yeah, yeah, this one kicked your ass, and now she’s going home to fuck her girlfriend senseless in a way you’ll never comprehend,” Cara taunted. “Get over yourself, you stupid homophobe! Why should you care, anyway?” She kicked him in the ribs, hard, while the group of accumulated witnesses applauded. “Shadrin wanker,” she muttered under her breath.

Salindra rushed out, asking if they wanted the cops, but Cara shook her head and said it was better that they just went home. Nodding, the hostess said she’d take care of it. She put on her glasses, which made her look a little like a schoolteacher, and yelled at the men to leave before they spent the night in jail for assault and public drunkenness. They slithered off as the cab pulled up, and the two women got in, a bit shaken but unharmed. Kahlan gave the driver their address, and they sped away as Salindra sighed with desperate admiration, fogging up one lens, the lack of a certain undergarment frustrating her further. As she went back inside, she glanced at Zedd, wondering if she should just stick to predictable old men. “Naahhh…” She banished that thought immediately.

“Geez, I hate idiots like that,” Cara mumbled, laying her head on Kahlan’s shoulder. Soft lips found hers, and the situation was temporarily forgotten. Cara’s hand drifted up Kahlan’s leg, under her dress, caressing through the lace. She could feel Kahlan’s heat, though she was unsure whether it from the wine, the fight, or her kisses—probably a combination of all three. Both woman were breathing heavily by the time they arrived home, and they couldn’t get inside fast enough.

Flinging open the door, Kahlan pressed them to the wall, lips still merged, hands all over each other. She frantically unbuckled Cara’s belt, then started on the blouse, tearing the buttons off in her haste. “You owe me a shirt,” mumbled Cara halfheartedly, as she helped extricate the offending item, shrugging it off and flinging it somewhere. The slacks were next, offering little resistance as they slid to her ankles, helping pin her to the wall. Kahlan slid down as well, lips moving from neck to shoulder to breast to hip to thigh… seeking, finding. Cara mumbled more, but neither of them knew quite what she said, and Kahlan’s tongue on her made that irrelevant anyway.

Grabbing Kahlan’s dark hair with both hands, Cara pulled her closer, closer. It could never be close enough, she thought to herself, there was no “too close” with this woman. She wanted them to be one, to be the same. Her eyes fluttered shut and she tried to balance on unsteady legs as Kahlan held her there, against the wall, unable and unwilling to move. Just as she thought she was going to fall, Kahlan stopped, kissing the soft skin of her inner thigh instead. “Take these off,” a hoarse voice from somewhere that seemed far away whispered, yanking on the boots. Somehow, she managed to kick them away, and the pants shortly after. The kisses moved back up her body, a hand found hers and led her over to the sofa, pushing her not–so–gently down onto it.

With that, Kahlan began her attack for real, lips finding all of Cara, tongue finding more, two fingers finding even more. She moved and writhed, leaning into Cara, unrelenting, her breaths short and fast as the woman below her forgot to have them at all. She never wanted to end this, and delayed the moment for as long as she could, until Cara found her breath again and unceremoniously begged her not to stop. “Uhh… don’… don’t stah… don’t stop… ushhhh… uhhhhnn.” Unwilling to refuse a lady, she complied; Cara’s bucking beneath her caused the ache deep within her own body, the one which she stifled constantly, to surface, in desperate need, need of more, need of warmth and security, need of love.

Panting heavily, she climbed up to lay on the blonde, kissing her passionately, the taste of her all over her lips as Cara kissed her back, returning from oblivion. They lay there for quite some time, holding each other, waiting, breathing, hearts racing. An angry meow from Xena brought them back to reality, and Kahlan smiled on Cara’s lips, understanding the cat’s dismay at losing her bed to mere slaves. “Come on,” she whispered, tugging Cara up and leading her down the hall to the bedroom. The trancelike Cara followed, stifling a yawn, trying desperately not to trip over the one remaining sock barely clinging to her foot.

Kahlan pushed her down onto the bed, her clothes having disappeared sometime between the sofa and there, although Cara could not fathom when exactly. The long hair swirling about Kahlan’s shoulders purged all thoughts of sleep from her mind, however, and with renewed passion she pulled them close yet again, rolling over so she was on top. She took Kahlan’s wrists, drawing them up and pinning them to the bed, a devious smile having replaced her sleepy delirious look from moments before. “And what, pray tell, does my lady wish of her mistress tonight?”

Melting, Kahlan sighed happily. “She wishes to not be kept waiting a second longer.”

“And does this ‘not waiting’ include anything else?” Even though it was dark, Cara could see another blush lighting up the room. “Surely I don’t need my Agiel to make a woman beg for mercy!”

“Yessss, I’m begging,” came the very faint reply, as Kahlan looked to the side pretending it didn’t come from her lips.

She dragged one finger up between Kahlan’s legs, pleased, yet unsurprised at the slipperiness she encountered there. “Be right back,” she whispered slowly, licking her finger and cruising to the bathroom to grab the toy. She slid it on, quickly this time, the adjustments having been completed earlier. As she went to open the nightstand for the lube, she heard a muffled, “No, it’s ok.”

With that, she climbed on the bed, straddling Kahlan… and noting that her arms were still up where she had previously held them, she grasped her wrists again, holding them there. Leaning down, she held her lips to Kahlan’s, not quite touching, allowing the toy to slide between them, the heat from its friction building like red embers in a fire, scorching. Kahlan began to moan, but Cara didn’t stop, the toy slipping up and down, slick with arousal. It was a lot more flexible than she imagined, and seemed almost alive. “Am I teasing too much?” Her whisper was barely audible, and Cara moved one hand down to completely coat the toy.

Whimpering, Kahlan could only nod a little, though she had no idea if that meant yes or no. Cara kissed her passionately now, her tongue pressing deep inside as the toy did the same. Kahlan’s legs looped over her back, she arched into the thrusting as Cara moved in and out, slowly at first, then gathering speed. Her other hand pulled Kahlan’s down just above the toy so she could touch herself where only she could completely understand, then hooked under her knee, raising it up over her shoulder, pushing deeper, agonizingly, tantalizingly deep inside.

Kahlan moaned, but not as loud as when Cara pressed the tiny button on the side of the Agiel, causing it to start humming. Not expecting that at all, she clenched Cara tightly, shuddering against her, stopping all movement between them as the new sensation washed over her. “Aaaaaaghhhhh!” she rasped.

“Do you like that?”

“Uhhhnn…” She pulled Cara as close as she could, trembling beneath her, sweaty and naked, moaning.

Cara waited until she let up a little bit, then started moving again, just slightly. “Want me to turn it up? There are five levels,” she leaned down and whispered on Kahlan’s lips. “This is only level one.” As she said “level one” she moved her hips a little to one side, angling the toy, watching Kahlan’s eyes as they darkened and closed. She could feel Kahlan’s hand moving under her, faster than her thrusting, in short strokes, with the practiced perfection of a woman adept at self–pleasure. Without breaking her rhythm, she slid her knees under Kahlan and moved her head down, biting her neck, then her nipple, bruising one and exciting the other. As she drew her fingers lightly along Kahlan’s ribs, Cara felt the woman below her shudder, clenching tightly, then Kahlan was scraping the nails of one hand down her back, leaving red welts behind them.

As Kahlan’s nails dug in, Cara raised up to kiss her again, inhaling slightly. “Mmmm, yeahhh…” she mumbled. Secretly she loved that, the feel of scraping, marring, defiling, possessing. The marks made her feel, made her feel pain. The kisses made her feel alive. She kissed back, not wanting to lose that feeling, not wanting to feel less. She pressed the toy deeper and felt Kahlan twitch and jerk and move beneath her, first gripping her with her legs and then relaxing completely, breathing so heavily she thought her chest would explode. Slowly, Cara pulled the toy out and turned it off as Kahlan sighed happily and weakly pulled her closer.

“More?” she laughed.

“Aaaahhhh,” came the faint reply. “Few minutes…”

Cara licked her shoulder and neck, the salty sweat tantalizing her; she wanted to bite hard but restrained herself. Although Kahlan’s light moans of content were driving her wild again, she knew it was important to just hold her, to just be there.

Eventually Kahlan’s spasms subsided and she hugged Cara tightly, tasting her own sweat on Cara’s lips as they kissed. She slipped the toy out of the harness and rolled them over, pushing Cara face down on the bed. “Don’t move,” she ordered. “Not an inch.” Cara held her breath, not daring to look around, as Kahlan washed the toy in the bathroom. She heard her pad back and stand at the side of the bed, staring at her but saying nothing, and then the nightstand creaked open and something else was removed, but she wasn’t sure what. A very long time went by, or it seemed that way. Kahlan’s fingernail ran up the back of her leg, at exactly the right pressure to both hurt and tickle. How she could do that was beyond Cara’s comprehension; her toes curled slightly in response but she remained silent.

The finger became two, then three, then four, nails dragging up her skin, getting closer and closer to where she desperately wanted them. A slight moan escaped her lips, and the fingers were removed. “No talking, no moaning, no whimpering.” Kahlan’s voice was harsh, yet playful, but Cara knew she was serious. “On your knees!” Cara immediately pulled both legs under her, leaving access to whatever Kahlan had in mind.

“You see,” Kahlan purred, “I bought something at Underworld today, too.” Cara’s eyes flew open as she listened intently, trying to figure out what Kahlan had. Something cold and hard pressed itself to her inner thigh, and her muscles tightened in an attempt to keep still. “I’m not so pleased about that wench’s perfume on your shirt,” Kahlan continued. “Perhaps you need to be taught a lesson.” The cold, hard steel inched closer. “But in fairness, I will allow you five words to explain yourself, or my Sword of Truth will seek vengeance where you least expect it.”

“Um…”

“That’s one.”

Cara thought carefully. “She leaned against me.” There, the remaining four.

Kahlan considered. She removed the silver vibrator from Cara’s leg and turned it on about halfway. “Ok,” she said over the buzz. “Ten more words to explain why she was leaning against you.”

“I said… I made a bet… and asked for them.”

“But that still doesn’t explain. Ten more, and you’d better convince me.”

“To balance herself while she removed them…. high heels… Mistress.”

Satisfied, Kahlan ran her hand down Cara’s back, caressing her gently. Cara had a lot of scars from various injuries, and Kahlan found them fascinating. When they first met, Cara had seemed almost ashamed of them; now they were more like medals of honor, and she was secretly pleased that Kahlan liked them. “They show what you’ve accomplished and how you’ve overcome adversity to succeed,” she had once said. “Like pieces of a puzzle, you were put back together and now are whole again.”

Lost in thought, Cara was suddenly jolted back to reality as the vibrator touched her again, this time right between her legs. It slid back and forth, coating itself in her wetness, and she bit her tongue to not cry out. Kahlan teased, almost entering her but not quite. She grabbed the harness Cara was still wearing, pulling her back roughly as she thrust the silver toy in. Climbing on the bed behind her, Kahlan reached her other hand down in front of the toy to rub as she moved it in and out rapidly. From out of nowhere, Cara heard her own voice moaning, and in a combined reward/punishment, the index finger of the hand thrusting the toy slid in the other opening above it. Kahlan could feel the toy through the thin membrane of skin there, and smiled to herself as she noticed Cara clenching the sheets in her fists, biting the pillow to keep from moaning more. She was coated in a sheen of moisture, all muscles tense as she tried hard not to tremble. Moments later, her release was intense and she lurched forward and away from Kahlan.

“Oh no, I’m not done with you yet,” Kahlan said. “Get back here.”

With every ounce of her strength, Cara returned to her previous position. Kahlan picked up the Agiel and the Sword of Truth, and pressed them both into Cara, sliding them in slightly opposite diagonal directions as they moved in and out. Cara was screaming with pleasure now, her head moving side to side as she was filled completely with two buzzing toys. With one last perfectly timed thrust, Kahlan brought Cara to a second climax, more intense than the first. She melted into the sheets, panting and spent, while Kahlan collapsed on top of her, kissing the back of her neck and asking if she needed more punishment for disobeying. Cara just smiled, but could not speak or move.

Early the next morning they were rudely awakened by the doorbell. “Ugh,” groaned Kahlan, “When are they going to make those like cell phones?”

“What, so people can interrupt you at any time of day or night and barge in unexpectedly?”

“Yeah, you’re right…” She wrapped a soft white robe around herself and went out to answer the door. It was their next–door neighbor Shota, the self–proclaimed Pagan Witch Goddess author of the bestselling books “Sealing the Rift” and “The Princess of Winterhaven.”

“FedEx came by just after you left and I signed for it,” she explained, handing Kahlan a package and raising an eyebrow in such a way that made Kahlan wonder if it signaled approval or disapproval. Although they got along fine with the strange woman, there was always this nagging feeling that she had some hidden agenda.

“Oh… thanks, Shota,” she yawned, taking the package and going back inside. The freaky witch surely could have waited a few more hours, she thought to herself.

But once again, curiosity got the best of her and she began to rip the package open. Cara emerged from the doorway to watch. “Wow,” Kahlan laughed. “Check it out!” It was another Agiel, from The Keeper’s Toy–of–the–Month Club. “I guess they know us too well!”

“Two Agiels are better than one,” came the smug reply, as Cara climbed contentedly back into bed.

~ ~ ~