Author's note: This is just a one shot for now. The writing style is something I whipped up. I liked not using names until much later into the story. Feel free to comment and review. Should I continue this? What are your suggestions?

Enjoy ;)

How could I say no? How could I decline your offer? Was it even an offer? Was I inviting myself?

There she stands in all her beauty.

When did I start to see you under a different light? When did I stop thinking about the horrible things you've made me endure? When did I stop being scared and start to feel intrigued?

All these questions run through my head as she stands there. She looks at me through hazel eyes and a confused facial expression. She looks like she's going to open her mouth to ask why I'm just staring at her, but I know she doesn't really want to know why. I take three steps toward her. She doesn't move back. My eyes hover over her perfectly shaped lips and right then I start to feel warm. The feeling emanates from my center and spreads over my body. Who'd have thought looking at a person's lips could be so arousing?

I close in further. Again, she doesn't move back.

Do you want me? Do you want me to come closer? Do you want me to touch you? Do you? Do you? Do you?

There is no sound. I place my hand on hers. She does not pull it away. She looks down at it like she's watching something magical and inexplicable; then she looks back up at me. My eyes must be black because she is bewildered, but she doesn't move back. I lift my other hand and I cannot help but touch her. By this time, we are inches apart. I can feel her warm breath on my face. I trace my fingers along her cheek. She flutters her eyelids. Her face is warm, very warm. The blush flourishes from beneath my fingers as if I painted her flesh. They travel down her jaw and finally reach her lips. They part. My fingertips follow the outline like a pen on paper. Her eyes never leaving mine. It is probably one of the most erotic things I have ever experienced and all I am doing is touching her lips.

I really want to kiss you. I really want to kiss you. Please, let me kiss you. Let me kiss you.

You know those moments when you're in a classroom and your teacher asks a question you do not know the answer to, and you keep chanting 'please don't pick me, please don't pick me' and yet, she picks you? Yeah, this is not one of those moments. She definitely wants to kiss me. No, this is not simply because I am arrogant and full of myself. So, how do I know? Well, she's looking at me with her eyelids half open, her gaze journeys from my eyes to my lips, her breathing is losing control, and heck, her whole body is starting to lose control.

This is my chance. I slowly lift my heels, inching closer and closer. I am at her eye level. Our foreheads are touching. God, I don't know what to do. Our noses are touching. Lord almighty help me. All I hear then is a hiss and a whisper and my entire world comes crashing down.

Down on my lips, that is. The feel of her lips on mine is like when the elevator descends just a little too fast; like the alleviating feel of entering a heated place from the harsh cold of a December day; like your favorite flavor igniting your taste buds; like heaven. Our tongues are a twisted lollipop; our flavors intertwine. It is like we've been here before, like we've dreamt it or felt it in our deepest thoughts. I could pull apart from her to ask, but I am in it too deep right now.

It is she who breaks the kiss, but only to gasp for air; I, however, am selfish. I want more. I want more. I want more. I look at her; her eyes are closed. I want her to open her eyes. I want her to see how much I want her lips on mine once more. Neither of us speaks. I decide to let her have her moment. The anticipation is almost too much to bear so I take a hold of her top and pull her closer to me.

This time I almost open my mouth to speak, but she occupies it with her own. God, your lips; I want your lips on mine forever. I hesitate thinking this as the idea of her reading my mind enters my train of thought. I don't want to scare her away. I want her close so I place my hands in her hair and bring her neck towards me. And then I hear it: a single moan. I feel like a soufflé. My knees get weak and give out causing me to tumble on her. She catches me and our lips never part. Instead she walks backward toward the piano bench.

The back of her legs hit the bench and she parts from me once more. She sits. I stand. My hand is still behind her neck, her hand remains on mine. She beckons me closer. I am dumbfounded. She wants me. She wants me to move closer. I do. I take one knee and place it next to her thigh. I look at her. She looks back at me. She beckons me closer. She places her hands on my hips for support and leans back as I lift my other leg to straddle her. This is exhilarating. My blood is rushing to my face. I can feel my cheeks flush and I hide my face for a second. Then I feel a lift beneath my chin. She has bent her index finger and used it to lift my gaze onto her eyes. God, it's like I'm in a movie. Is someone going to yell 'cut' yet? Where are the camera and the crew?

Her eyes look from one of mine to the other, searching. What are you looking for? I don't know, but whatever it is, I'll give it to her. How in the world am I feeling so safe with the girl who's put me through hell and back? Funny thing is, I don't care right now. All I want to do is kiss her again.

It doesn't take long for her to do what I wanted. She pulls me close by the collar of my dress, her knuckles white. What is she so afraid of? Me falling? Literally or figuratively? As far as I know, it could go both ways, this bench is not as sturdy as it looks. I don't know what to do with my hands so I place them around the back of her neck. She is wearing her hair down today. I let my fingers crawl up her scalp and her eyes magically disappear behind her eyelids. I wonder what she's thinking. Should I ask her? What are you thinking, tell me, talk to me.

I move in closer to her face. I can smell the Chap Stick on her lips. I want to taste it again, but I refrain. I have never felt this sexy before. My forehead is against hers and all I hear is our breathing, labored at that. Just being this close to her, me straddling her, my lips hovering over her deliciously strawberry covered lips, I am so close. I know that if she touches me where I want her to touch… I would surely be a goner.

God, just look at those lips! Why, why, why, why have we waited this long?

So many words unsaid, ultimately, it's better this way. There was a mutual understanding. She looks at me, finally, and I look back at her. I bite my lip and as soon as my teeth let go I pull myself closer so that our bodies are completely linked. My chin is now against hers and our lips, parted, are like magnets, but I don't want to kiss her just yet. We are breathing each other's breath, waiting, when suddenly I feel the faintest touch of her fingers on my thighs. Jesus, Mary, Joseph, mother of God, the messiah, Oprah, the president, Barbra, SOMEONE, ANYONE, HELP ME.

My eyes close tight and I see black. My brows furrow rigid. My lips and chin begin to quiver. Her hands inch up slowly as if playing a game of 'chicken-or-brave' except she's not waiting for me to say brave. Damn well might have the word tattooed on my forehead for she cared. Maybe she became a little more chicken now that she stopped halfway up my dress. Oh, good God, I do not want her to stop. WHY ARE YOU STOPPING? I don't want to seem desperate. In fact, that is the very last thing I want her to think I am. I want her to give in to me, but the way she is doing things is making me weak. I need her. I want her.

My head tilts down to look at her. Aha, found the loophole! I arch my back and sink lower causing her hands to inch up just a little bit higher. I can feel heat rush to my center and I get wetter. Not even in my fantasies with boys did I get this hot. My mind isn't holding back from thoughts of her hands on me, in me. I bite my lip hard, still my gaze tearing her apart. She looks astounded. I don't think she's ever seen anyone this worked up before and I feel slightly embarrassed by the whole ordeal, but my longing for her is stronger. She takes a hint. Her hands just need a little more push and she's at my bum. The ball is in my court now. I ram my hips down and, yes, that glorious sound reverberates off the walls and back to my ears; her moan is like a broken record in my head, or is she moaning repeatedly? Either way, it has to be the sexiest thing to ever be interpreted by my auditory glands.

Now that noises have been made, there really isn't a reason to hold back anything. Her hands move up my ass and grab a handful. Oh, yes, it is my turn to release a few notes of my own into her mouth. Without my knowledge, I start to grind my hips onto hers. Once a rhythm is found is when I begin to really deepen the kiss. Our tongues should be given an award (or a gold star even) for best coordination or group effort of flawless paring. Never have I felt such wonderfully soft lips and a perfectly wet tongue. Nothing was overdone. I mean, I haven't kissed that many people at all; there had only been Finn, Noah, Jesse, and that one time I kissed Blaine, but I was completely under the influence and anything could have been heavenly. But this, this was just walking-on-sunshine good.

I take one long grind down making her moan into me and I let go of her lips. Using my hands I maneuver her neck to the side so I can have enough room to kiss down her jaw. There I lay soft, open mouth kisses, simultaneously biting and nipping. Where did I learn all this? I was never this sensual. It had to have been causing a number on her because her breathing is jagged, to hardly there at all. I start to get concerned for her well being until I hit a good spot on her neck and realize she's just enjoying what I am doing. Her head falls back onto my hand for support. My other hand wanders onto her back. Should I, should I? I think about putting my hand under her shirt, but I don't know if she'd be comfortable with it. I mean, she should be because her hands were on my bum.

Oh, what the hell. And there go my hands. I feel her back tense and there's hesitation in the kiss. I part. Her eyes look deep into mine. Do you want me to? As if to answer my question, she takes a hand from beneath my skirt and guides my own over her breast, not even blinking. If she weren't holding me right now, I would have fallen over. The blood rushes to my face. I start to see specks of flying lights as my fingertips glide over her perfect breasts. I cannot see them, but feeling them is just about the most brilliant thing I've ever felt.

Her mouth hangs open in the shape of a small 'o'. Then I see movement in her lips as she takes in her bottom one to sink her teeth into, all this without her stare leaving mine. I mirror her lip bite when I gently squeeze her breast. A whimper graces my hearing. I slide my hand over the other breast and repeat my actions. Another whimper. She lets go of her lip and I see blood rise from the raw tissue. Oh, have mercy. I lean close and my tongue slithers mischievously out my mouth and flicks the blood off her lip to take in.

A low grunt on her behalf disturbs the newly formed silence. Her pupils take over her iris and at that moment I swear she's turned something inhuman. Her hands pull me against her so hard, so fast, my head is spinning. Her lips devour mine hungrily. It's like she's had a taste of something she cannot live without. She's addicted. I kiss her back with just as much need. I keep thinking of how badly I want her hands on private places of my body; how badly I want her lips in dark places; how badly I want her tongue in… Oh, God, did I just moan that loudly?

Yes, I did. Her eyes lock onto mine and I feel something moving beneath my skirt once more. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. No, please tell me you're not… Why would I want something to happen so badly and then want to take it back? This is unknown to me, but I shut my eyes tight and I wait. My eyebrows furrow and my mouth hangs ajar. I feel her cheek slide against mine as her mouth nears my ear and I finally hear the first words since she entered the room, "Open your eyes and look at me."

She flicks my earlobe with her tongue before pulling back to make sure I comply. Jesus, fuck. I do as I am told. Her face is stern. She's got her head bitch in charge look on. I am almost scared, but not as scared about the proximity of her hand to my center. My eyes flutter and alternate between opening and shutting, not in a blinking manner, but as if I had just woken up to a bright light.

Her hand crept closer and closer. Finally, it was between my legs, but she stops abruptly. She keeps her eyes on mine. I lean my forehead against hers in anticipation of her next move. If you're going to do it, just do it. Please. I plead her in my head. I cannot seem to open my mouth to form words, just sharp breaths. I contemplate whether or not to give her the satisfaction of knowing the amount of begging going on in my thoughts. Sadly, she was keen on not moving an inch, therefore making me a very impatient little girl.

I let my eyelids shut. I bite my lip before stating the following word, "Please…"

I can practically hear the smirk growing on her beautiful face. It makes my stomach churn to think she has the advantage. Why did I cave so easily to her touch? You're like poison, Quinn Fabray.

"Please, what?" She asked in a deep, sultry tone.

Do not joke with me. You know precisely what. The voice in my head was definitely more assertive than the one I used aloud. Ugh, the slapping that I was doing in my head to myself could be considered abuse, domestic abuse at that! Oh, fuck this, I can't stand it anymore. All my dignity flies out the window when I purposely spread my knees and sink into her hand, "Please, touch me there."

She releases a deep and semi-frightening grunt while she brings her hand up to cause friction. There is an explosion of colors behind my eyelids. There are clouds of purple, red, blue, and some yellow. My head somehow becomes weightless, or heavy, I cannot pick. I let it fall back and I start to make rhythm with her hand. I don't know if I should be embarrassed by how soaked I am, but at this moment in time, I could really care less as long as she keeps doing what she's doing. My inhibitions begin to falter. All kinds of sounds are betraying my mouth and there is nothing I can do to hold them back. My hips grind harder against her hand and her fingers are persistent against my clit.

Abruptly, she removes her hand, but before I could protest, there's no longer a barrier between her fingers and my flesh. My head winds its way latched back onto her forehead. I grab onto the back of her neck and pound my lips onto hers as her fingertips make contact with my clit. I feel like crying. It feels that powerful that I feel the need to burst into tears. I am not, of course, that would scare her away, but God I want to cry. I cannot help but hunch over with my lips still attached to hers. It's as if a vacuum sucked out all the air from my lungs, therefore, causing me to cave in and bring space between her body and mine.

I finally let go of her lips to gasp and refill my lungs with much needed oxygen. I grind my hips down onto her hand and God I want you in me so bad. I want all of you in me. This feeling is overwhelming. Why have I not felt like this with any other human being? I start to create a tempo with my hips, pressing down against her hand. She was teasing me.

I remembered her celibacy club motto, "all about the teasing and not about the pleasing?" I let escape.

The end of her lip curled into the most devious smirk. I hate you. She's going to take her sweet time now. The movement is in circles now; deep, slow, rough circles. My lips keep apart as it's now the only way I can properly take in any air. I begin to get lost in my impure thoughts until something makes me snap back to reality. She let her finger dip in my center to feel just how wet I really am.

"Jesus Christ, Rach—" I cut her off before she can continue. Oh, this will definitely happen again, I need to hear my name roll off that magical tongue of yours more often… and louder. She retreats her finger and I whine onto her mouth. She breaks the kiss to move her lips to my ear. "What do you want, Rachel? Tell me what you want."

Fuck you, how can a name sound so perfect coming from your mouth. Since when do I curse this much?

"Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you," she hissed into my ear.

I'm whimpering now, "Fuck, Quinn…"

Her fingers press against my clit hard demanding a proper answer from me, but I dig my nails into her hair and pull as I sink my teeth into her neck to keep from screaming. She sucks back air through gritted teeth and then states in a harsh tone, "I asked you a question, Berry. Do not make me drop you and leave you high and dry."

"Mmm, we both know that's not true," I slither my tongue over the fresh bite mark and drag it back to her earlobe, "I'm not the least bit dry."

She moans against my neck. Rachel: 1, Quinn: 0. Clearly, Quinn Fabray turns me into somebody completely different. Fuck it, "You wanna know what I want?"

"Yes," she sighs.

"Alright," I decide not to speak at first but to grab the hand already in my underwear and guide her fingers inside me. A shiver runs down my spine. I want her to look at me as she enters me. Her eyes flutter as she feels my walls beneath her fingertips. I give her fingers a tentative squeeze.

"Oh, fuck…" She whispers.

"Precisely what I want," I reply, "get to it."

Right then, her lips attack mine. She creates a slow rhythm, pumping in and out of me, I begin to make sounds that land somewhere between whimpers and groans. I feel her bring her thumb against my clit. Another shiver runs down my spine. My lips and tongue forget what they're doing and our lips part. By now, my eyes are closed and I am trying very hard to concentrate on what she was doing to me.

I lean forward on my knees causing me to be a head taller than her. I run my hands up her neck and into her hair and pull her head back. My eyes open. Our lips brush but our mouths still remain parted. We breathe each other's breath once more. As her hands pump faster and harder my legs begin to quiver. Again, I have to concentrate on not letting my eyes roll back. I want to look into her eyes as she makes me come.

I let out a sharp breath, almost like a scoff. Good God, you feel so good in me. My brows furrow. I'm so close. I can't help but say it out loud, "I'm so close… Oh, so… close."

I can see her pupils grow with determination as the sound of my words touches her ears. She slows her hand but uses more force. I start to bounce on her fingers, helping her keep speed as my walls began to tighten around her. Her thumb flicking my clit every so often, making me jump with pleasure.

"Jesus… fucking… Christ, Quinn…"


"Don't…" Come on, get the words out, "stop. Don't fucking stop."

She grunts and thrusts in one last time and gravitates her fingers against my …Oh, my GOD! Fuuuucckkkkkk… With each jagged breath my body raised and sunk, riding my orgasm to the fullest. Finally, my body turns to stone. My knuckles are white, my mouth agape. I am flying. I swear. It feels as if the sun is radiating from my center. I am on fire. Her fingers keep causing friction inside me, only pulling my orgasm longer. My hands grasp her face and I hold it in front of mine. I am trying really hard to keep my eyes open. She looks from one eye to the other. She's searching for a further reaction. When she sees that I am not going to do much else but compose myself, I feel her slipping out of me. Oh, no you don't. My hand shoots from her face to her wrist. I tighten my grip and, to my surprise, I manage to whisper, "Not yet."

"Ugh, fuck," She sucks back air and licks her lips as she stares at mine.

"That you did," I respond. I teasingly wisp my tongue on her lips and smile. Who am I when I am with you? She can't help but return the smile. Her teeth are perfect. I let go of the grip on her wrist and her fingers slowly, teasingly, exit me. She wipes them off on my underwear and settles her hands back on my ass, bringing me closer.

"God, you have no idea how hot you make me," she confesses. I don't know why she's whispering.

"Well, that's something you don't hear every day," I snap back sarcastically, still a smug smile on my face.

"Oh, yes, please let me shout it from the roof of the school."

"I'll hold you to that."

She rolls her eyes and feeds my lips with her own. I can't help the words that escape my mouth, "Please tell me this is happening again some time soon. I think I owe you a little somethin' somethin'."

She does her infamous eyebrow raise, "Is that so?"

"Mmm, I just want to hear my name fall loudly from those perfect lips."

Before she has a chance to voice her answer, I lean in and silence her. I already know her response. And if it isn't what I want to hear, I'll make it so.