A Killing Eve fic.
First published February 2019.
Villanelle x Anna, 479 words.
Contains smut, noncon somnophilia.
Villanelle expects Anna to wake up when she jumps on the bed. She’s all ready to clap a hand over her mouth, and watch the fear on her face change into something else – but Anna only turns in her sleep, reaching her arm out over the covers for someone who isn’t there.
Well, well, well. Villanelle had seen the empty wine bottle when she came in – naughty of Anna to be drinking on her own. When she could have had a companion.
She runs a teasing hand along the length of Anna’s arm, then flicks her under the chin. Anna stays sleeping. Somehow even in sleep she looks troubled.
Villanelle gets an idea.
Carefully she pulls back the sheets from Anna’s body. Anna has a short nightdress on, and Villanelle pushes it up over her hips. Her heart beats faster, with Anna’s body vulnerable before her, ready for anything Villanelle might do to her. But Villanelle has nothing very wicked in mind: she just wants to give Anna a pleasant dream. That’s all.
She puts a hand over the front of Anna’s underwear, and then, on a whim, pushes her nightie up further so that she can see her breasts. Anna stirs a little, like maybe the cool air disturbs her. Villanelle waits for her to settle again, and then she puts a mouth over one nipple, and suckles it to hardness. She rubs Anna through her panties until the fabric grows damp. Sweet, sweet Anna: her body knows what it wants, even if her conscience might deny it.
She pushes her fingers under Anna’s panties and then, annoyed at the restricted access, pulls back long enough to cut them away. They’re only cheap anyway – Villanelle could give her better. She makes a mental note to arrange for that: Anna in dark lace, her breasts perfectly cupped and framed, just waiting to be stripped down all over again …
Anna is hot and slick around Villanelle’s thrusting fingers, but her sleep is undisturbed. Has her breath grown heavier, maybe? Does she know it’s Villanelle doing this to her? She looks so delicious, all unknowing, laid out like a gift.
Villanelle supplements her fingers with her mouth, and Anna’s body reacts even if the thought isn’t there. There’s none of the resistance she would offer when conscious, just sweet yielding flesh, the tang of her wetness on Villanelle’s tongue …
Villanelle feels it when she comes, her body clamping down around Villanelle’s fingers. Villanelle feels a small thrill when that happens.
She sits back and sucks on her fingers absently, considering Anna. She looks more relaxed now, Villanelle thinks. Like orgasm has taken a burden off her shoulders. She could have this any time, if only she weren’t so stubborn. Sweet, stubborn Anna. Too moral to know what was good for her.
Well, so Anna thought. Her body, and Villanelle, knew better.