|Inappropriate Dinner Conversation
Author: veruca's salts PM
Ella humiliates Hattie at a very formal dinner party. -femslash- -Hattie/Ella-Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Humor - Chapters: 2 - Words: 2,304 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 9 - Follows: 2 - Published: 02-02-10 - Status: Complete - id: 5713672
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I do not own Ella Enchanted. It belongs to Gail Carson Levine.
A/N: The final part in this--this part is in Ella's P.O.V.
Hattie kept a firm grip on my wrist as she dragged me up the spiral staircase. Her nails were digging into my flesh, and I wanted to pull away and slap her, but I thought better of it; I had already crossed the line in my effort to humiliate her. Sure, I had succeeded, but who knows what she was going to do to make me pay in return? Whatever it was, I had a very bad feeling.
We reached her bedroom, and she opened it, pushing me inside, and closing (and presumably locking) the door.
"Sit on the bed," she ordered, and her voice was both malicious and excited, beyond anything I had heard before. I obeyed, sitting on the edge of the bed, crossing my legs and leaning back. She seemed to deliberate for a moment, biting her bottom lip and staring at me expectantly.
"Do you know how you have embarrassed me?" She said, her voice shaking.
"What? All I did was--"
"You don't have to say it!"
"No one noticed, Hattie. Now, may I go?"
"No!" She practically shrieked. Her eyes were alight with anticipation, and for the first time, I regretted getting back at her. Perhaps I went too far? Well, fine, fucking her under the table may have been crossing the line, but it was oh-so satisfying to watch her crumble with pleasure in front of such esteemed nobility, during dinner, no less.
"Sssh!" She hissed, waving a finger at me for emphasis. "Lay down on the bed, Ella-dear," her voice was barely a whisper, and I had to strain my hearing to catch the command. I let myself fall back, and closed my eyes, anticipating the worst.
Suddenly, I felt her on top of me; straddling my hips, her face only an inch away from mine.
"What are you doing?" I hissed, staring into her blue eyes, which were glittering still with excitement.
"Why, I'm merely reciprocating, Ella-dear!" And with that, she kissed me, her lips crushing against mine with such force that it hurt. A part of me liked the savagery; the urgency behind her kiss. I knew I should have been appalled, and I should have pushed her away, but there were a lot of things that I shouldn't have done, and I did them anyway. So I kissed her back, my mouth just as hungry (and slightly clumsy) as hers. My mouth fell open, and her tongue slipped inside, pressing against mine. Waves of heat rushed through me, and I understood how she had felt during dinner.
Her lips left mine, and trailed very hot kisses down my jaw line, down my neck, until she reached my breasts. She stopped, and looked up at me, her face red and her eyes wild with arousal.
"Take off your dress," she commanded breathless, sliding off me, and watching, panting slightly as I pulled the garment over my head. I tossed it aside, and it landed somewhere in the depths of the room. A chill washed over me, and I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself.
"Lay down," she commanded again, and I did so, not wanting to struggle against the curse. Honestly, I had no idea if I wanted her; my stunt at dinner was simply a ploy to humiliate her, so I didn't expect any sort of reciprocation.
And yet she was beside me, pulling my knickers down my hips.
I sucked in a breath; she ran a hand over my breasts, and I shuddered, excited, though I hated to admit it.
"You see, because of you, I had to leave the table without dessert," she said, her voice silky--still nasally--but yet very silky. I was unable to come up with a snaky retort. Instead, I gasped and closed my eyes and she made me spread my legs. In an instant, I felt her head between my thighs, hands reaching up to hold mine. I was panting now; barely able to take in a steady breath. Her breath was hot; and there was a very painful ache between my thighs, and I knew that only she could give me what I so desperately needed.
"…and since I haven't had dessert, Ella, I suppose this will have to do."
Her lips pressed against me, and I moaned; unable to bite back the tell-tale noises that were begging to burst from my lips. Her tongue was suddenly tracing the bundle of nerves between my thighs--and I lost all self-control from at that point.
And then she bit at it; softly, and there was too much pleasure for me to feel any pain. I arched my back, bucking my hips into her face. I felt fantastic and just fucking wonderful, and I wanted release and I wanted her to taste me and---
"Hattie, dear? Are you and Ella alright?"
It was the duchess!
Hattie jumped, and pulled away, sitting up, she brushed her hair out of her face.
"Yes, duchess! We're fine!" As she spoke, she slid her hand between my thighs, her fingers rubbing against my entrance softly. I bit my lip to suppress a moan.
"What ever did you forget to do?"
Hattie slipped two fingers inside of me; curling them and pumping them in and out of me quickly; easily, all thanks to my arousal.
"Oh, it was nothing; I swear, I am ever-so forgetful--" she inserted a third finger, and there was pain; a slight ache and a burn, but it evaporated quickly enough. I was close…and I wondered if I would be able to control myself with the duchess just outside the door.
"--you see, Mama has asked me to have Ella sign a letter for Blossom--since she's been so terribly desolate." She thrusted her fingers inside of me hard…it took every ounce of my will-power to keep from crying out.
"Oh, that's so nice of you! Blossom, the dear, she'll appreciate that. I didn't know her and Ella were friends!"
Hattie's fingers curled again; and her thumb rubbed against my clit--sending sharp and hot waves of pleasure over me that I didn't think would go unverbalized--
"OH! ELLA! OH, NO! YOU'VE SPILLED THE INK!" Hattie shouted; and her shout managed to cover up my moan of pleasure. And I thought she wasn't imaginative…
"The ink? Hattie, dear--"
"Oh, duchess! Ella has spilt ink on the letter…oh, this will never do!" Her fingers thrusted again--curled again--stretched--curled---fucking god…
I spasmed; my muscles tensing, and I tightened around her fingers; and she smirked wickedly, and withdrew her fingers, wiping them on my inner thighs.
"Duchess, I shall correct the letter, and we shall send it out to you!" And with that, Hattie fell back on the bed beside me, and kissed me again.
"Don't ever deny me dessert again," she said.