Enşah | Oneshots

Silk and Wine | +18

A/N: I've had this in my drafts for a while tbh but never posted it bcs it's short 🤷🏻‍♀️

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Soft candlelight washes gently over two dark silhouettes, composing shadows and flames and painting warm hues of color in the dimly lit room.

The night is terribly long. It has only barely begun.

Metal loops are cold against Şahika's flesh and a shiver runs up her spine at the feel of their icy caress. They scratch the sensitive flesh of her wrists, and then the cold bands close around the woman, binding her. The clicking of the cuff as it tightens sounds unnaturally loud in Şahika's ears, but her senses are heightened and at the moment everything feels more.

Ender smirks, pleased with herself as the cuff binding Şahika clangs loosely around the bed pole. She could break the cuff if she wanted — she could break the bed if she wanted — but she won't. It is Ender who holds Şahika in place, not the cheap handcuff around her wrist, and it is Ender alone who will keep her that way.

"Other arm."

Ender's words are seductive and they slide over Şahika like a caress. She's described Şahika's voice as silk before. And if Şahika is silk then she is wine — rich, smooth and intoxicating. Şahika could drink her to death.

Ender lifts Şahika's arm and extends it backwards, resting her wrist delicately against one of the poles that keep up the headboard. She leans over her carefully, round breasts with pink, hard nipples hovering before the woman's mouth, just out of reach. Şahika could tilt her head up and claim one of the tantalizing buds, but Ender would be displeased, and she would draw her pleasure out even longer as punishment.

She makes her behave. Şahika likes that Ender has that much power over her. She loves it. Needs it, like air, blood, the sun and Ender herself.

Her other arm is secured and Ender sits back, straddling Şahika's waist as she takes in the sight of her girlfriend like a haughty god.

She is supremely smug at the moment, taunting eyebrow arched high as her eyes rake over Şahika, and she adores it. Ender has earned her prize. Şahika is hers, and Ender can claim her at her leisure.

Warm hands spread out over her stomach and she breathes in deeply, stomach muscles twitching under gentle palms. Ender runs her hands over Şahika's heated flesh, exploring slowly like a conqueror appraising newly gotten lands.

All mine, her hands seem to whisper as they trail lines up her sides, what shall I do now?

"I wish you could see yourself, Şa-hi-ka," Ender's voice is breathy, melodious. "I wish you could see how helpless and desperate you look, anticipating my each and every move..."

She looks thoughtful and mischievous. It is a heady combination in Ender and Şahika shifts from beneath, making the woman on top of her smirk just enough for a blush to spread down Şahika's cheeks.

"I'm thinking such bad thoughts right now."

Ender punctuates her statement by taking Şahika's nipple between her fingers and squeezing, hard. She knows the brunette can take it. She likes to take it, and Ender likes the way it makes her moan. She twists Şahika's nipple ruthlessly, again and again, watching her face the whole time, and with every stinging flick of her wrist, she loves her more.

Ender leans forward and presses her lips to Şahika's, kissing her softly as manicured fingernails bite into the skin at Şahika's hips, marking her. By morning the thin, angry red streaks will be gone, but Ender can see them now, and Şahika can feel them, and that's all that matters.

"Ender..."

Hands and lips begin to move with more purpose. Coherent thought leaves Şahika. It's impossible to think with long fingers sliding inside of her and curling. It's impossible to think with hot, burning lips sucking at her neck and hard, pebbled nipples pressing into Şahika's skin.

A thin layer of sweat covers her body and Şahika squirms desperately underneath her.

Ender denies her again and again.

She is in control — she has the power, and Şahika will feel it. She will know that between them, tonight, Şahika is nothing but prey trapped in the claws of a wolf — oh, but such an excellent, brilliant wolf — powerless and completely at her mercy.

"Say please."

Şahika doesn't.

Ender hums a low chuckle, and it goes on.

An eternity later Şahika is a panting, quivering, mewling mess, and half mad with need she whispers, "Please."

Ender is merciful.

Teeth bite down on her neck, a painful delight that draws the most delicious groans out of Şahika's lips. Ender's thumb presses against the slick, sensitive bud between Şahika's legs, and moments later, the woman breaks.

Afterwards, she is a panting, quivering, tired mess, and Ender is soft and warm as she snuggles against her side.

The scent of sweet candles melting fills the air around them. Şahika shivers as the sweat on her skin begins to cool, and Ender wraps both arms around her, holding the woman close.

"You're smiling," she whispers against Şahika's neck, kissing the marks she has left there.

She sounds happy.

"I am," Şahika confirms, closing her eyes as Ender softly tongues the bruise.

Şahika is happy too.