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Andy Sachs considered herself good at following directions. After all, her job depended on following directions to the letter, making sure she executed Miranda Priestley’s particularities exactly. And she was quite good at her job.
“Andrea,” Miranda’s voice was tight with annoyance, ”Was I not clear with my directions?”
“Yes but-“ Andy said, squirming.
“I abhor repeating myself,” Miranda continued. Her voice was low, firm and it made Andy’s breath catch in her throat. “So tell me, what was my only direction for you? It can’t be that hard for you to remember.”
Miranda’s warm hands wrapped around Andy’s wrists, pulling her hands away from where they were tangled in her blouse, wrinkling it. Andy pouted between kisses sinking back into the soft down pillows.
“You said not to touch you,” Andy said.
“So you can remember a simple directive-“
“But I want to touch you so badly-“
“Then I’ll have to teach you the finer points of obedience,” Miranda said, reaching up to tug the Hermes scarf off from around her neck. With the focused precision she did everything, Miranda wrapped the scarf around Andy’s wrists, securing her hands above her head, to the headboard.
Flushed and breathless, and stared up at her. Andy’s own blouse was undone, leaving her lace bra on display. Her skirt was hiked up to her waist and she was missing one shoe- lost somewhere between the front door of Miranda’s townhouse and the bedroom. She tugged at her new restraints. It was tight enough to hold her, but not enough to hurt.
Miranda looked down at her, pleased with her work. Her cheeks were pink, but aside from her own skirt pushed up to her thighs so she could kneel between Andy’s legs, she looked as polished as she did in her office at Runway.
“Not quite what Hermes had in mind,” she murmured, almost to herself, as she shed her jacket and leaned in again.
Andy bit back a moan as Miranda pressed a soft kiss to the curve of her throat. Each kiss was gentle, featherlight, teasing. She nuzzled the sensitive place just below Andy’s ear, making heat pool in Andy’s stomach, slick wet gathering between her legs.
“You can be a good girl for me, can’t you Andrea?” Miranda asked, and Andy could feel her smile against her skin.
“Y-yes,” Andy whimpered.
Miranda pressed another soft kiss against her throat. She braced herself on the bed, hands on either side of Andy, bodies pressed together. Kissing her way up the column of Andy’s throat, her mouth moved deftly, catching Andy’s earlobe between her teeth.
Andy moaned. Each breath was coming hard and fast. She arched up against Miranda, desperate for more, more touch, more fiction, more Miranda. She could feel the warmth radiating off Miranda’s body. The firm press of her breasts against Andy’s made her feel feral.
“Mmm,” Miranda hummed softly, the sound vibrating through Andy’s body, “Wait for my word.”
“Your w-word?” Andy repeated, stupidly. She couldn’t think clearly, her mind spinning with Miranda’s scent, her touch, her breath.
Miranda’s tongue traced the shell of her ear and Andy thought she was going to come right then. One hand cupped Andy’s cheek, so soft and tender, so… loving. Miranda Priestly was known for ice not fire. She didn’t do soft or tender or careful, unless she was pressing Andy against the bed, and there, she burned.
“Wait for my word,” Miranda said, “To come.”
“Oh god.” Andy moaned.
“Miranda will do for now,” she said, and Andy could hear the teasing note in her voice.
Andy twisted, pulling against the scarf, as Miranda traced her ear again. She kissed Andy’s collarbone, ran her tongue along the length of her throat.
“Miranda, please .”
“Please what darling?”
“Please touch me,” Andy whimpered.
“Of course Andrea,” Andy could hear the smile in her voice as Miranda pushed her underwear aside and slid two digits into her core, “All you had to do was ask.”
She curled her fingers, pressing against that spongy spot that made Andy see stars. Andy was embarrassingly wet, embarrassingly close to coming all over Miranda’s perfect hand.
“Not yet,” Miranda’s voice was husky as she nuzzled Andy’s neck, “You’re doing so well, so far.”
The praise shot straight to Andy’s core. She moaned again, feeling her body clench around Miranda's fingers. Her fingers continued their deliberate strokes, firm, driving Andy wild. Andy could feel the curve of her knuckles. She wanted more, faster, harder, but Miranda wasn’t giving in. Instead Miranda pressed feather light kisses along her neck.
“ Miranda ,” Andy whined, “I need- so bad- please-”
“Full sentences,” said Miranda.
“I need to come,” babbled Andy, “Please let me come, please-”
Miranda’s tongue was circling her ear again, her breath hot on Andy’s skin.
“You taste good, Andrea,” She murmured. Andy trembled.
Each breath was ragged, her whole world narrowing to the feeling of Miranda’s mouth on her skin, her fingers curled inside her, her body pressed up against Andy’s. It was overwhelming. She felt as if she were going to fall apart- as soon as she received permission.
“Please Miranda, please -”
“Come for me Andrea,” Miranda all but purred, making Andy come so hard and fast that her vision went black, her body tensing as her head spun. She was dimly aware that she cried out, wrists pulling against the scarf as she arched into Miranda.
She slumped back into the pillows, flush and out of breath. Andy blinked up as she watched Miranda untie her wrists, pressing warm kisses to the red marks left here.
“Very good,” she said, looking down at her with that softness that Andy so desperately yearned for. Miranda touched Andy’s cheek, lingering only a moment longer before pushing off the bed and righting her clothes, all business again.
“Get dressed. We have a meeting uptown in a half an hour and I will not be late,” said Miranda, but as her eyes swept across Andy’s limp form on the bed, there was still a hint of desire, and Andy took it as a promise.
