Please, like always, enjoy :)
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the main character!
"Hey, honey," Quinn smiled broadly as she walked into her joined room.
Santana momentarily lifted her eyes from the book she was reading, acknowledging her girlfriend with a soft smile of her own before she went back to the pages filled with words.
"Are you still reading that silly book?" Quinn questioned as she crawled upon their bed, pulling at the Latina's legs to get her attention – though there was no need.
"Harry Potter is not silly!" Santana growled: "Everyone reads it, you're the silly one for doing so."
"Weird, I don't feel silly…" the blonde joked, earning herself nothing more than a scoff so she took the book out of the brunette's hands and claimed full attention.
"I was reading that," the Latina mumbled irritated despite the fact that she stayed perfectly still, her eyes gliding up and down the girl in front of her.
"I wanne ask you something," Quinn started, edging closer towards the brunette as her voice turned soft and persuasive.
"Yes, you should take your clothes off right now," Santana blurted out with a devious smile etched on her face.
Quinn couldn't hold back her smile: "Maybe, if you're good."
"Ah, baby, you know I ain't do good," the Latina responded in her best Oh-no-you-didn't-attitude making Quinn roll her eyes.
"Listen for a second, please," she pleaded, using her best puppy-face to get Santana to get her head out of the gutter.
"Fine," the said brunette huffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest: "You wanted to ask me something?"
"Rachel called me earlier," Quinn started slow, her eyes fixed on Santana's reaction though they stayed neutral: "And she asked if we would like to go for a swim at her house tomorrow, all the Glee kids are gonne be there.."
It remained quiet for a few second in which it seemed like Santana was really thinking about it and so when she tilted her head slightly, smiling at Quinn, the blonde's heart swelled with hope and joy..
..And it sank again as her girlfriend hopped of the bed, picked up the Harry Potter book from earlier and went to her bookcase.
"Why not? It's gonne be fun!" Quinn pressed, standing up herself: "B's gonne be there and I swear you don't have to talk to Rachel!"
"I just don't feel like it, Q," Santana threw a glance over her shoulder and started rearranging her books.
"How come? You love swimming and showing off your body.. what changed?" the blonde took on her pissed-girlfriend-pose and Santana flinched a bit at the glare she was receiving.
"I just don't want to go, so just drop it," the Latina tried once more to put an end to the discussion and she failed miserably.
"Are you ashamed of me?"
The question was expected yet still it cut through Santana like a knife and it made her throat go dry, would she lie and hurt her girlfriend or tell the embarrassing truth?
"No, I'm not ashamed..."
"Then why won't you go with me?" Quinn continued, getting rapidly angry with the brunette.
"I have a reason, a good one too, I just can't tell you," Santana sighed and turned around, facing a very much fuming girlfriend.
"Cause it's embarrassing.."
"I don't care! You tell me know Santana Maria Lopez or I swear to God I will withhold sex for a month!"
Santana's mouth formed a perfect 'O' as her eyes widened in shock: "You wouldn't dare," she squeaked.
"Oh, I would most definitely," Quinn wore her HBIC smirk, Santana didn't like it if she wore her HBIC smirk, it meant trouble…
"You wouldn't survive," the Latina tried to act confident of her standpoint but knew she failed when Quinn's smirk only grew wider.
"I tended to myself throughout my whole pregnancy, I'm well-prepared," the blonde called her bluff easily: "You on the other hand would be in so much trouble."
Santana's mouth opened and closed a few times, hoping anything coherent and smart would come out and save her, … too bad.
"Fine," she grumbled and Quinn smiled victoriously.
Agonizingly slow Santana pulled her shirt over her head, making Quinn pull up a questionable eyebrow, then the Latina turned around and showed the reason.
Around half a dozen red stripes were visible on the tan skin between and on Santana's shoulder blades.
"Are these..-" Quinn asked breathlessly.
"Scratches of nails? Yeah," Santana smiled a tad proudly as Quinn just blankly stared.
"When?" the blonde asked, tracing the patterns on the Latina's back.
"Yesterday, when we… you know," she trailed smugly, noticing the shade of red creeping up her blonde's neck.
"I did this?"
"Yeah, when you have an orgasm, you tend to.. clutch at me," Santana explained, turning towards her girlfriend.
"Why haven't you ever told me?" Quinn's tone was slightly accusing bust mostly guilt.
"Because I knew you would think about it and then eventually stop it," the Latina frowned deeply: " And I don't want that; I love the feel of your nails against my back, it's reassuring and soooo hot.."
"That's crazy-talk, those look like they hurt," the blonde said, shaking her head as she tried to get behind the brunette to get another look at what she did.
"They stung a bit more than normal," Santana confessed as she grabbed onto the blonde's upper-arms: "But it was a good orgasm, right?"
Quinn stopped and visibly flushed as she shyly nodded.
"I thought so, that's why I wear those marks with pride, they're my trophies," the brunette whispered before dipping her head and capturing Quinn's lips in a soft gesture of passion.
"I still think you're crazy," the said blonde breathed out as she pulled away, earning herself a breathy laugh.
"I can settle for crazy," Santana smiled genuinely: "So now you know why I can't go with you tomorrow."
"What happened to 'wearing them with pride'?" Quinn smirked as she locked eyes with the brunette.
"I just thought you wouldn't like people to know your…tendencies," the Latina offered carefully, suspiciously eyeing her girlfriend.
Quinn smiled almost devilishly before leaning forward, pressing her mouth to Santana's ear: "Those marks say that you're mine and I want everybody to know.."
Santana hummed contently, rubbing the tips of their noses together softly: "Maybe I should mark you too.."
"You can only try," Quinn answered defiantly, pressing her body into Santana's provokingly.
The said Latina growled almost animalistic and made quick work of their outfits as well as Quinn's ability to talk or simply move.
They went to Rachel's swimming party: Santana with four extra marks on her back and Quinn with way too many hickeys to blame her curling iron…
What did you think? Any good? Would you like more?
Let me know because I actually had quite some fun writing this and my mind is already continuing it… bad mind :)
Thanks for reading, you've just made my day!