The Holy Trinity {Grace, Hannah, Mamrie} | Oneshots

Higher {Hartsquared}

{This will be the last chapter in the series of oneshots, so I thought I'd make it kind of NSFW.}

They often got high together, and sprawled out on the bed, relishing the feeling. That day, though, it was different. There was a strange kind of electricity hanging in the air, not caused by the cocaine.

Mamrie looked to her left, only to be met with Hannah's loaded gaze. In her red-rimmed eyes there was a question, one that had been building for a while. The blond still had the remnants of white powder by her nostrils, and Mamrie moved forwards to wipe it for her. Somehow, her hand made contact with the skin on Hannah's cheek instead of her nose, and their lips were pressed together fiercely. This was a completely new kind of high.

They kissed and nipped and bit, pulling hair in frustration or arousal, both emotions becoming indiscernibly similar. There was bare skin, and lots of it. Clothes tossed aside carelessly, the buttons on Hannah's shirt even popped and flew across the room without either woman noticing. They were caught up in each other and the moment and the drug, with perspiration coating the entirety of their bodies and hands exploring just the right places.

Profanities were uttered, especially when Mamrie did that with her tongue - Jesus Christ who gave her the right to be so good at that? - or her hands, or her body in general. Breathing was laboured and desperate. Teasing was abandoned.

"I need you."

Hannah learned a few valuable lessons that day. The first was not to get high before sex, because you probably wouldn't remember just how good your orgasm was in the morning, when you opened your eyes and saw your own body intertwined with another's. The second was that Mamrie really fucking loved getting head. The third was that she - Hannah - really fucking loved giving it, when it made the redhead moan like that.