Her Swimmer

Im gonna kill her

A/N: SEXUAL CONTENT

The room was dimly lit, the soft hum of the night settling outside the window as Talia moved about, changing into her sleepwear. Alexia sat on the edge of the bed, tension clear in her posture. She was fidgeting with the edge of Talia's comforter, her gaze lost somewhere between the lines of worry and something deeper—something uncertain. Talia noticed, picking up on the shift with ease, and made her way over. She stepped between Alexia's parted knees, her fingers gentle as they coaxed Alexia's chin up, forcing those thoughtful eyes to meet hers.

"If you're not ready," Talia murmured, her voice soft and reassuring, "you don't have to meet them yet."

Alexia's response was immediate—her hands slipped around Talia's waist, pulling her closer, almost desperately. "No, amor," she said, voice carrying a mix of determination and nerves. "I'm ready to meet them. A bit nervous, but I'm ready."

Talia hummed, the sound vibrating in the quiet room. She ran her fingers through Alexia's hair, nails lightly grazing her scalp in that way she knew Alexia loved. "What's wrong then, pretty girl?" she asked, curiosity laced with concern.

Silence stretched between them. Alexia hesitated, her gaze dropping before she took a deep breath and, in a sudden rush of courage, blurted out, "What do you like?"

Talia's brows furrowed in confusion. "What?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. "What do you mean, 'What do I like'? In terms of what?"

Alexia's cheeks flushed, but she didn't back down. "In bed...what do you like in terms of...doing stuff during sex?"

Talia's eyes widened, surprise quickly morphing into understanding. Her jaw dropped, and she let out an incredulous laugh, realizing exactly where this was coming from. "I'm going to kill her," Talia muttered, spinning on her heel to head for the door. The exasperation in her voice couldn't hide the amusement, but before she could even make it halfway, a strong hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her back.

Alexia's grip was firm, almost desperate, and before Talia could react, she was pushed back—her shoulders connecting with the door in a gentle but determined shove. The breath left her in a quiet gasp, her back hitting the wood with a small, muted thud. For a moment, the room felt like it had narrowed, the only sound the rapid thudding of Talia's heart. She stared up at Alexia, wide-eyed and breathless, the older woman's intensity taking her off guard.

"What did she tell you?" Talia's voice was a little shaky, a challenge laced in her words as she tried to regain control.

Alexia's eyes were unwavering, her voice low and steady as she said, "She told me you're...freaky. That you like certain things. That you'd try just about anything." The way Alexia's words came out—confident but with an edge of nervousness—made Talia's breath hitch.

"Fuck's sake, Ellie," Talia muttered, shaking her head, but there was no real anger behind the words. How could she be mad when Ellie's meddling had led to this—to Alexia standing before her, unexpectedly bold and undeniably sexy?

Something in Talia shifted, instinct taking over as her lower body arched forward off the door, her body betraying the spike of desire racing through her veins. But before she could move any further, Alexia's hands pressed firmly into her hips, forcing her back against the door. The sudden pressure, the way Alexia's grip dug into her waist, made a small, involuntary moan escape Talia's lips.

Alexia's eyes darkened, her expression shifting as realization hit. "So you do like it rough," she said, voice barely above a whisper, but there was a newfound understanding there—a confidence that hadn't been there moments before.

Talia's breath quickened, but she refused to answer. She held Alexia's gaze, her lips curling into a defiant smirk. She wasn't going to make this easy. She wasn't going to tell Alexia what she liked or didn't like. No, she'd much rather the older woman figure it out herself—piece by piece, kiss by kiss, touch by touch. It was more fun that way, and Talia had always enjoyed the thrill of the chase, the teasing, the power of making someone want to know everything about her without her ever having to say a word.