Series: The Vampire Diaries (television series verse)
Word Count: 2,527
Characters, Pairings: Rebekah/Elena, briefly mentions Stefan/Elena and alludes to Damon/Elena
Summary: She could do the obvious, but prefers to keep her guessing instead.
Warnings: Spoilers if you haven’t seen up to 3x09, sexual content, light bondage, masturbation, orgasm denial.
Notes: This was a prompt requested by cassiehayes at the TVD comment ficathon here. Prompt was: Rebekah/Elena: Time waits for no one, so do you want to waste some time tonight?. Also written because my fiancé wanted to read some Rebekah/Elena action. *LOL*
“I can’t decide if you’re surprisingly clever or just plain stupid,” Rebekah murmurs, all soft and sultry and sweet—more like a seductress instead of a killer hell-bent on revenge.
Perhaps it’s this place and these people that have softened her somewhat (she refuses to believe – refuses to admit, really – that it’s this human girl’s kindness). Perhaps this is why she finds herself much less inclined to make Elena bleed and break for literally stabbing her in the back.
“My brother is still alive,” she continues, watching the way Elena’s chest rises and falls to the rhythm of her inner anxiety, because she’s only compelled her to disrobe and to lie on the bed, not to remain perfectly calm. Which is fine by Rebekah—this girl has no right to be perfectly at ease, not after what she’s done.
“That wasn’t part of the plan.” Elena’s voice is tremulous, and Rebekah can hear her heart beating double-time. “Stefan--”
“Excuses aren’t what I want to hear, Elena,” she murmurs in response, giving the doppleganger a sideways glance. Even Rebekah has to admit that she looks pretty like this, naked and flushed and afraid. Red satin looks nice tied around her wrists, and it’s easy enough to imagine little rivulets of blood in place of the satin, but she’s not going to kill her—at least, not tonight. She has something different in mind: tonight, she prefers to waste her time in a different fashion.
Elena doesn’t have to know this just yet, and toying with her is fun.
“You ruined my dress,” Rebekah half-laments, running a perfectly-polished nail down Elena’s abdomen and inwardly smirking at the way the girl hisses but can’t jerk away because Rebekah won’t let her.
“I told you I was sorry when I stabbed you,” Elena replies, her voice half-desperate, half-fearful. “I meant it then and I mean it now.” It’s almost amusing how determined Elena is to show no fear, even while she’s naked and her wrists are bound, and she is entirely at Rebekah’s mercy.
(It’s also at least a little admirable, but Rebekah doesn’t have to admit that either.)
“I didn’t get to go to the dance.” Rebekah feigns a pout, like she’s just some pretty blonde snob who didn’t get her way. She realizes that some people probably already have this impression of her. She’s more than a little willing to prove said people entirely wrong. “I think you should make it up to me.”
Elena says nothing to this, she just looks at Rebekah with chocolate orbs that have gone wide, and licks lips that have gone dry. It’s apparent that the mortal girl doesn’t know what to say, but then again, she doesn’t really have to say anything at all.
Rebekah wraps slender fingers around Elena’s neck and she presses, just enough to make Elena inhale sharply (though the sound is cut off due to constriction of her airway), and just enough to feel the blood rushing beneath her skin. “I should kill you.”
Elena gazes bravely into what she probably assumes is the face of death, but it isn’t. Not for her, not tonight.
Rebekah releases her hold, and Elena sucks in a breath like it is her first, or like it could be her last. “I’m not going to kill you, Elena,” Rebekah tells her, hands fleetingly caressing her collarbones. “I’m hungry, but luckily for you, my hunger is of a different sort right now, and I’m feeling generous. I won’t forget or overlook what you did, but I’ll let you distract me.”
Fear takes the back burner as confusion and curiosity take the stage, sharing front and center. “What are you talking about?” Elena asks. “And… why did you compel me to take off my clothes? I—I thought you were going to--”
“I can guess quite well what you thought I was going to do, Elena,” Rebekah interjects and smiles, not hesitating to show her fangs. “But I am certain this is not the first time you’ve proven to be incorrect about something.”
Elena’s biting at her bottom lip now, worrying it between her teeth. Her nipples are erect; Rebekah doesn’t notice the cold. “Rebekah, I don’t--”
“Have you ever been with a woman, Elena?” she asks, and almost laughs at the way Elena’s cheeks turn bright red. The girl’s lack of an answer is answer enough for her.
She idly runs her hands up and down Elena’s sides, as if trying to comfort her. Or perhaps she’s touching her like this just because. She herself isn’t even certain of the answer, but she isn’t overly concerned with it either. This is all about a little fun and a little revenge on a much smaller scale.
She’s always been fonder of doing the unexpected rather than the expected. It’s something that Elena’s going to learn firsthand tonight.
“Time waits for no one,” Rebekah quotes, remembering that she heard this on the radio just a few short days ago, “so do you want to waste some time tonight?”
Elena’s pretty face is still full of confusion, but Rebekah suspects that it’s because all of this is so sudden and unexpected, and so Rebekah decides to stop playing around and she cuts directly to the chase (she enjoys word and mind games to a certain extent, but she’s always been a pretty straight-forward girl, really), leaning over Elena’s unclothed body and kissing her.
She tastes like chocolate laced with honey and alcohol, and Rebekah is surprised, because isn’t revenge supposed to be a bitter sort of thing?
Elena’s gasp of surprise grants her the opportunity to slip her tongue past soft lips, but Elena is completely immobile beneath her, neither pulling away nor kissing back. Well, that just won’t do, will it?
She cups Elena’s face in her hands, nipping lightly at her lips. “You’re going to kiss me back.” It is a command, but not a form of compulsion. She’s learned over the years (especially in the context of the bedroom) that there is a difference.
Elena relaxes somewhat, but her kisses are little more than reluctantly given. There is no passion—only lingering confusion and hints of anger and fear and uncertainty. So, Rebekah decides to light the fire that she knows she can, and she fits her clothed body between Elena’s thighs, hand’s finding and cupping the teenager’s breasts, thumbs brushing against her nipples.
Her reward is a soft moan, and she almost smiles but she doesn’t. Instead, she twines her tongue with Elena’s, drawing the other girl’s tongue into her own mouth and lightly sucking. She can hear the strain of fabric, and is curious over whether Elena would push her away or pull her closer if her hands were free right now.
Without breaking the kiss, she moves her body against Elena’s, drawing out another moan, and the wetness she feels against her thigh is proof enough that while Elena’s mind and heart might not be entirely (or even partially) okay with what’s going on, her body is more than okay with it. She’s aroused already, and Rebekah remembers what it was like, to be so young and so needy.
She’s long since gotten past that stage in her life in spite of the fact that her body is frozen in time, in a strange sort of limbo.
However, that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t still want.
“Such a naughty little girl,” she teases, pulling back to take in Elena’s expression. “You’re already wet. I can feel it. Smell it.”
Elena’s eyes are glazed over now with something that might very well be the passion that Rebekah sought moments earlier, before she truly touched her. Elena’s lips are kiss-swollen now, too, and she idly wonders how much Stefan enjoyed seeing her like this (she also wonders if Damon has seen her like this, or if that privilege is currently just reserved for the younger of the brothers and she herself).
(She’s always been a little greedy.)
“Do you want something, Elena?” she queries, tilting her head from one side to the other, a small smile playing on her lips. “Need something, perhaps?”
“This isn’t—can’t be right,” Elena bites out, shivering when Rebekah dances her fingers over her inner thigh, finding trace amounts of Elena’s arousal there, too. It’s making her own body react, making her ache. She’ll take care of that soon enough.
“But you’re not telling me to stop, are you?” She moves her hand up and over, humming softly in satisfaction when her fingers brush against Elena’s clit and Elena keens, thighs tensing. “I haven’t compelled you to let me do this, Elena. You’re quite able to tell me no, though in this case, you ought to know that I won’t listen to you.”
She slides down the length of the girl’s body, mouth hovering above her mound, knowing that she won’t say no—not now, no matter how tangled the strings of her heart are with those of the Salvatore brothers.
“Tell me you aren’t curious,” Rebekah demands. “Tell me your thoughts haven’t wandered; tell me that you don’t want my mouth and my hands on you right now.”
“What difference will it make?” she asks, and her thighs are trembling just slightly—the silly girl has already given herself away.
Rebekah all but grins, flicking just the tip of her tongue against Elena’s clit; just the briefest contact makes Elena cry out and makes her get wetter, and the only thing Elena says is Rebekah’s name.
Rebekah then moves away a little, all but ripping the red dress off of herself (it’s already ruined anyway, no harm no foul). A lacy red bra and panties soon follow, and Rebekah settles once more between Elena’s thighs, only this time she is on her knees, and the only one she’s touching is herself.
“Watch me,” she says, and it’s not necessary because Elena’s already watching her, drinking her in and oh, she’s biting her lip again. It’s kind of cute, admittedly… and kind of attractive, which is not exactly what Rebekah was anticipating when she formulated this plan, but it’s not like Elena’s reactions aren’t working in her favor.
She is wet too, but she steers clear of the area between her thighs for now, focusing instead on her breasts, rolling her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers and making soft sounds of pleasure that Elena echoes (except only there’s a hint of pleading in Elena’s tone, but not yet—not yet).
“It’s a pity you’re being punished and can’t touch me,” Rebekah remarks, releasing a shaky sigh when her own fingers find a ticklish spot on her belly. “I wonder what your hands would feel like on me—maybe you’d be a little forceful; you’ve already proven to be stronger than what I gave you credit for.”
Elena’s breaths are shorter, quicker, and there’s a fine sheen of sweat on her body. Her wrists are twisting from one side to the other, but her little struggles are in vain—Rebekah ties knots quite well, and Elena’s not going to be able to work her arms free of the satin that currently binds her until Rebekah wants her to.
“You’re struggling unnecessarily, sweetheart,” Rebekah lightly admonishes, fingers gliding along one inner thigh and then the other. When she finally slips her hand between her thighs, feeling the heat and wetness there, she closes her eyes and she groans, almost chuckling when Elena makes a strangled sound. It’s so strange and funny how this girl reacts to her, but it’s decidedly not a bad thing.
She rubs her clit and she listens to Elena’s breathing and to the little whimpers that escape the bound girl’s lips. She pleasures herself with fingers and thumb, alternating between rubbing and penetrating (push, press, thrust, circle, shove) until she herself is panting, steadying herself with her free hand on Elena’s thigh.
She hears her name—hears Elena say it as she picks up the rhythm, and she opens her eyes, meeting Elena’s liquid gaze. The girl’s pulse is racing: she can hear it and she can see it, and she imagines sinking her fangs into Elena’s thigh, tasting her there. It is that mental image that sends her over the edge, and she cries out, hips moving frantically against her own fingers until they finally still of their own accord save for the occasional post-orgasm twinge or jerk.
(With friends like these….)
She swallows hard and then leans down again, bringing her fingers to Elena’s lips. “Clean them,” she instructs, voice not quite as strong as she thinks it should be (still shaky from her orgasm).
Elena hesitates, but it doesn’t last long. Her lips part and she draws Rebekah’s fingers into her mouth, tongue swirling around the digits. It is enough to make Rebekah shiver involuntarily.
She’s withdrawing her fingers from between Elena’s lips in the next moment, and she’s continuing where she left off without preamble, lips closing around Elena’s clit, tongue flicking against it again and again.
Elena does start struggling then—Rebekah can feel the tension in her body and can hear the satin pull against the headboard as she struggles once more against that which keeps her from being able to touch.
“Uh-uh,” Rebekah breathes out. “It won’t do you any good.” She then resumes the task at hand, noting that Elena tastes sweet here as well, and the urge to bite her is still strongly pleasant, but she does her best to ignore it for now. Another time, perhaps.
She can tell when Elena’s getting close, because the little movements of her hips become more urgent and jerky, less fluid. She’s trembling like a leaf, and the smell and taste of her is very strong.
Rebekah stops before Elena reaches orgasm. She pulls back and licks at her lips, and then she leans over Elena, smiling sweetly at her as she whispers into her ear: “You’ve been a bad girl, remember? Perhaps I’ll continue this when you decide to be a good girl instead.”
She presses a brief kiss to Elena’s lips, and grins at the frustration that is scribbled all over Elena’s face. Elena may have proven herself to be repentant, but Rebekah is the opposite—there are no apologies.
“You can’t leave me like this!” Elena exclaims, and whether she means the lack of an orgasm or the restraints doesn’t concern Rebekah.
“Oh, but I can,” Rebekah corrects. “You left me with a dagger in my back, darling.”
“How am I supposed to--?”
“You’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out.” Rebekah slips from the bed, bare feet hitting the carpet as she shimmies back into her panties and fastens the clasp on her bra. “I suggest you figure it out before Damon gets back though, and finds you naked in this bedroom, fit to be tied. You might have some explaining to do then.”
She winks and blows a kiss before exiting the room, Elena’s cries of protest and displeasure following her down the hallway.
If nothing else, she’ll sure as hell keep this girl on her toes, won’t she?
This turned into some kind of monster I couldn’t control and I am so very uncertain about it. I’m sorry. :/ cassiehayes, I’m sorry if you weren’t looking for smut, that’s just where I went with this. XD;
Jeremy, I hope you’re satisfied, you pervert. ^_~