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Honestly, Shallan fumes to herself. Who actually comes to office hours? Other than her, of course, but she only came for academic reasons occasionally. The rest of the time, well…
Jasnah catches her eye over the top of another student’s head, expression cool. Shallan shivers, hoping the way she shifts in her seat isn’t too transparent.
She had come to today’s office hours on a mission. After spending the last twenty four hours reliving the sounds of Jasnah’s voice, imperious even filtered through tinny cell phone speakers, undeniably in control even while telling Shallan in a breathless voice that she was such a good girl, I’m so proud of you, be a good girl and come for me—
Well. After reliving that particular moment, near-constantly and in enough detail that she’d barely been to focus in her classes today, she’d all but sprinted back to her apartment. She’d changed into a skirt she knew made her ass look amazing, plus one of her nicer bras and a dab of lip gloss, because why not push it?
Then she’d made her way back to campus, just in time for Jasnah’s office hours.
To be honest, Shallan’s libido has been in overdrive since they last spoke, and she doesn’t care what Jasnah does about it as long as she does it as soon as possible. She’s already preparing the best way to communicate this to Jasnah—along with a list of positions she’d be more than happy to prove it in—when she steps into her office.
So of course, of course, this would be the one time that anyone else bothered to show up.
Shallan had been forced to sit on Jasnah’s couch for over twenty minutes and counting while multiple people asked questions about last week’s lecture, went over portions of essays and homework, and at one point even asked Jasnah what hair products she used. As though anyone could simply look like Jasnah if they had the right hair oil.
And poor Shallan, who’d barely been able to hold a conversation all day with the memory of Jasnah’s moans in her ear, had been forced to play along.
She genuinely likes talking about history with Jasnah, likes the easy back-and-forth of their discussions, the light in Jasnah’s eyes when she gets going on a topic, the small smiles when Shallan makes a point Jasnah finds interesting. Normally, she’d be happy to discuss ancient Alethi war camp economics at length, and being able to trade kisses while doing it was just a welcome bonus.
But Almighty, she’d come to Jasnah’s office fully prepared to drop to her knees and beg for a chance to show Jasnah how good her mouth was for things other than snarky comments, and now Danlan is asking if Jasnah could look over a second essay and Shallan is seriously considering just leaving and—
“My apologies.” Jasnah stands, interrupting both Danlan’s endless explanation of her thesis and Shallan’s embarrassingly desperate train of thought. “I have to leave early for another appointment. If you’d like, I’d be happy to send you my suggested edits over email.”
Danlan, to her credit, seems mostly unfazed. Although in all fairness, she’s just here to go over maybe every assignment from the past month, which feels a lot less urgent than the memory of Jasnah’s firm grip on Shallan’s chin, or her steady encouragements in her ear.
Regardless, Danlan quickly packs up her papers and leaves, and then finally, it’s just the two of them.
Before Shallan can celebrate, Jasnah stands, cocking one elegant eyebrow at her before making for the door. Shallan freezes, fairly certain her mouth is hanging open and positive that she’s actually about to die, before hurrying after her.
Shallan has to believe that she’d normally have more to say about being led through the dark, deserted halls at the back of the history building without a word of explanation, but right now she doesn’t care. She’s just relieved at finally being alone with Jasnah after a whole day of struggling to think about anyone or anything else.
Jasnah tugs her by the wrist into a supply closet. She closes the door with a quiet click and turns to her with a heated look, and suddenly Shallan is very alert.
She swallows, deafening in the tense silence. “Who knew Danlan liked parenthetical citations so much? And I thought I liked office hours.”
It’s not her wittiest joke, but maybe they’re both a little stupid in this moment, because Jasnah huffs a laugh anyways.
Then she leans forward to capture Shallan’s mouth in a kiss that burns all the way down her spine. She gasps into it, earning an approving hum from Jasnah. Jasnah kisses the way she does everything else—deliberately, thoroughly, and with the easy confidence of someone accustomed to being in control. It’s delicious—Shallan can feel herself getting wet, already, as Jasnah coaxes another gasp from her lips.
One of Jasnah’s hands cups her jaw while the other settles firmly in her hair, and Shallan’s body already knows what to do, her eyes fluttering shut as her hands come up to clutch at the back of Jasnah’s top, as much to ground her as to urge Jasnah on.
Jasnah pulls back after what feels like only seconds, although it might have been longer given how lightheaded Shallan feels. She cups Shallan’s cheek with one hand, so tender she could swoon. (She may have, just a bit, leaning into Jasnah’s hand and relishing the swipe of Jasnah’s thumb over her cheekbone it earns her).
“What happened to your meeting?” Shallan blurts out before she can say something embarrassing, or desperate, or very possibly both. “Or was that just an excuse to whisk me away to the most romantic supply closet on campus?”
Jasnah’s lips quirk before she can school them back to sternness. “Really, Shallan, don’t be ridiculous.” The hand on Shallan’s back trails down to toy with the hem of her skirt. “Raise your standards. The third floor supply closet has a mirror. This one can hardly compete with that.”
Shallan’s mouth actually falls open at that, stunned by Jasnah’s almost crass directness—crass for Jasnah, anyways—and the dozen possibilities springing into her brain. Jasnah kisses her again before her thoughts can spiral too far out of control. The smile in it feels like a promise. Later.
Jasnah draws her lower lip between her teeth, and just like that all strength leaves her legs and it feels like as good a time as any to drop to her knees. Jasnah stops her with a firm hand on her chin.
“You were so sweet for me yesterday,” she murmurs, steady and controlled even as her other hand slides up Shallan’s thigh, passing achingly close to where she needs her before slipping back down again. “I want to reward you for listening so well. Will you let me do that for you?”
The desperate little noise that tumbles from Shallan’s throat—a moan and a whimper together—would have felt a lot more embarrassing if she had the capacity to think beyond the heat of Jasnah’s gaze, the steady burn of her fingers grazing up and down her leg.
Shallan couldn’t have possibly broken eye contact then, so she sees the exact moment Jasnah’s expression shifts darker, more intent. Jasnah’s hand creeps another inch higher, and she’s so, so close to where Shallan needs her that another strangled whine drags itself out of her throat.
“Shallan.” Jasnah’s voice is firm, even if her face says she wants to eat her alive.
Sometimes Shallan enjoys being coy, pushing Jasnah and seeing her reaction when Shallan doesn’t immediately give her what they both want. But not now. Not when she’s been aching for this all day. Since their call ended yesterday, if she’s being honest.
Jasnah’s good at making her honest.
Shallan licks her lips. “Please.” Jasnah raises an eyebrow and Shallan hurriedly corrects her slipup before Jasnah can. “Please, Jasnah, I—I want to be good for you.” The admission sends a flash of heat curling through her. Shallan rubs her thighs together, savoring the sweet anticipation.
If Jasnah is surprised by how quickly Shallan folds (and she really shouldn’t be, Jasnah hasn’t even touched her yet and Shallan is sure she must be able to tell how wet she is for her anyway), she doesn’t show it. Instead she just smiles a small, pleased smile and gives Shallan’s inner thigh a squeeze that sends a gust of breath tumbling out of her.
Jasnah straightens abruptly, and the loss of her stabilizing hands almost makes Shallan’s knees give out. When Jasnah speaks, her tone is firm, businesslike, but simmering just under the surface. “Turn around. Hands on the wall.”
Another noise creeps out of Shallan’s throat, one even she doesn’t understand the meaning of, and she and Jasnah both ignore it as she rushes to comply. At least, with her forearms braced on the wall, she has a source of stability. If the molten look Jasnah was giving her before she turned is any indication, she’ll be needing it.
After a moment Jasnah hums, sounding satisfied, and she’s close enough to Shallan’s ear that it sends a frantic shiver racing down her back. Jasnah’s hand glides up the back of her thigh, brushing past the hem of her skirt and up, fingers toying lightly with the edge of her underwear.
Shallan’s throat is so dry that she has to swallow, thickly, before she can get the words out. “Jasnah, can I—can I please—”
She doesn’t know how to ask for what she needs so desperately. She can barely think straight when Jasnah’s fingers are teasing her so deliciously, but it’s not enough, it’s not nearly enough and she needs to move so she does, rocking her hips back into Jasnah’s hand in a gentle request.
Jasnah understands immediately, because Jasnah is smart and so good to her. She kisses a searing trail from Shallan’s ear down to her jaw and around before tilting her head with her other hand to capture her lips again.
“Yes, sweet girl, you can move. But keep your hands on the wall. You can do that for me, right?”
The heady feeling of obedience is already settling like a blanket over Shallan’s thoughts, so she just nods eagerly instead of trying to speak. Jasnah really is being so good to her, because she doesn’t even make her say the words out loud, just guides her by the hand still on her jaw into another heady kiss.
Shallan can taste tea, bitter and herbal, in the tongue Jasnah slips into her gaping mouth to play along her lips. Her perfume, something light and floral, surrounds her at such close proximity, so when Shallan’s eyes slip shut again Jasnah is dominating all her senses. The rush of that thought is so exquisite that she doesn’t know what to do with all of it, feeling like she’s about to overflow.
Without breaking their kiss, Jasnah’s hand slips down, only pausing for a moment to tease Shallan’s slit through her underwear before she nudges it to the side and slides the tip of her finger into her.
The broken sound Shallan makes is shocking in the quiet of the tiny room. It’s not enough, it’s barely anything, but after waiting for so long it’s incredible. Jasnah said she could move so she does, rocking herself back in a silent plea for more.
Maybe Shallan isn’t the only one feeling impatient, because Jasnah responds by slipping another finger in, and the sudden stretch makes Shallan cry out again, needing an outlet for everything she’s feeling, her hands curled into fists but still resting on the wall.
Her head falls helplessly against Jasnah’s shoulder, moaning what she hopes sounds like encouragement as Jasnah curls her fingers, rhythmically stroking the area inside her that makes the pleasure come more urgently, starting to coalesce into pressure and heat in her core.
“So wet for me, Shallan.” Jasnah’s other arm braces against her torso, palm ghosting along her breast, trailing possessive fingers feather-light across her throat. “Were you sitting in my office like this? Thinking about my fingers in you while the other students were sitting right next to you?”
Shallan moans pathetically in response, and she gets even louder when Jasnah traces a finger around her clit, gentle and teasing.
When she slips a third finger into her, the fullness is so wonderful, so needed that she can’t control herself. “Feels so good, Jasnah,” she gasps. “Ah- you’re so good to me- oh!”
The heat is building in her core, the delicious pressure and friction swirling tighter with every brush against her clit, every perfect drag against her walls. Jasnah gives her breast one last caress before sliding up her throat and gripping her jaw again.
Jasnah’s voice is breathless, heavy with an emotion Shallan is too overwhelmed to read. “You’re doing so great, Shallan.” She pauses, then, a lull that Shallan eagerly moans into as Jasnah’s fingers drag against her walls. “Can you open your eyes for me?”
It’s hard, but Jasnah is making her feel so good. Shallan desperately wants to be just as good for her, needs to be the good girl Jasnah says she is, so she forces them open. Jasnah is staring into her eyes, violet irises almost swallowed by her pupils, and the intensity Shallan finds there would have made her feel small if not for the naked arousal on Jasnah’s face, arousal that Shallan, miraculously, makes her feel.
“There you go.” Jasnah’s praise is so tender, even as she keeps up the steady in-and-out of her fingers, the pressure on her clit building, dragging Shallan closer to that edge. “What do you want, Shallan?”
Shallan gapes at her, overwhelmed, too deep in that velvety, heady warmth Jasnah is so skilled at bringing out in her. Jasnah’s hand comes to a halt inside her.
“Be a good girl and tell me what you want, Shallan,” she repeats, her voice firm, impossible to ignore.
The sudden stillness hits her almost like a physical blow, like she’s missed a step on a staircase, and Shallan can feel tears gathering in her eyes at the sudden absence. Jasnah gazes back at her, kind but firm, and the heady combination of desperation and a fierce desire to please, to live up to Jasnah’s expectations, helps Shallan force out the words that would normally stay hidden in her throat.
“Can you tell me how good I’m doing? I mean—if I am—I just want to be good for you Jasnah, fuck, I—”
Even with her inhibitions basically gone, being so open about her desires makes her want to hide, but Jasnah’s grip on her jaw holds firm.
“Look at me.” Jasnah’s voice is lined with steel, and between the rush of shameless heat coursing through her at the command and the fingers of Jasnah’s other hand resuming their pace inside her, Shallan thinks for a frantic second that she’s going to fall apart.
Her legs do, in fact, nearly collapse, but she manages to brace herself against the wall with her forearms, Jasnah taking most of her weight. Jasnah’s eyes never stray from her. Shallan drinks in her burning focus greedily. She wants to stay trapped in Jasnah’s burning gaze forever, feeling like her soul has been stripped naked, yet feeling completely secure, knowing Jasnah will take care of her.
“Look at you, Shallan, hell.” Jasnah surges forward to swallow her in a kiss, and the way Jasnah’s lips devour hers makes her feel possessed, treasured. Jasnah’s hand leaves her jaw, letting Shallan’s head fall back on her shoulder. She palms Shallan’s breast, hard, the way they both know Shallan loves when she’s so close.
“You’re always so good for me. My smart, beautiful, perfect girl.”
Firm, delicious swipes across her clit, perfectly in sync with Jasnah’s strokes inside her, have Shallan seeing stars and moaning her appreciation loud and filthy in Jasnah’s ear. She couldn’t have stopped if she wanted to, but why would she when Jasnah’s looking at her like that.
Hazy, incoherent, Shallan thinks she just might see herself the way Jasnah always says she does. If beautiful, flawless Jasnah says she’s perfect, who is she to disagree?
“Jasnah, fuck, I’m–” the rest of her sentence gets lost in another broken moan, but Jasnah’s already nodding. The strokes inside her and the pressure on her clit reach a peak Shallan didn’t realize she was waiting for, sending hot, almost painful jolts of pleasure through her.
“Come for me, Shallan,” Jasnah says, and she does, like her body was just waiting on Jasnah’s order.
She’s been wound up for so long, so desperate to please, and she rides that edge of white-hot pleasure for longer than she ever can alone. Her whole body is shaking, and she’s dimly aware of Jasnah holding her up as she starts to collapse, knees incapable of holding her weight.
Jasnah’s fingers are still moving inside her, teasing out residual little sparks of pleasure as she kisses her neck, her face, her forehead, murmuring bits of praise that make Shallan want to wallow in this bubble of safety and warmth forever. She’s vaguely aware that she’s whining in response, turning her face into Jasnah’s affection like a plant turning towards sun.
Somewhere, in the tiny corner of Shallan’s mind not completely overcome with pleasure, she finds the thought amusing, and she laughs, giddy and breathless.
Eventually the last of her orgasm fades and she reluctantly eases herself back to standing. Even then, Jasnah lingers for a final moment before finally, gently easing out of her with a lingering kiss to her forehead. Shallan turns back to Jasnah on weak legs, still shaking, overwhelmed on every level.
Jasnah meets her with a hand cupping the side of her face and a lingering kiss, and suddenly the tenderness catches up to Shallan and she doesn’t know what to say, throat clicking painfully in the silence.
Jasnah seems to understand, because she lets her have her moment of silence, tugging her over to an old armchair stuffed in the corner, sitting down and pulling Shallan with her to curl across her, head tucked into the junction of neck and shoulder.
After a few minutes of Jasnah silently trailing her fingers through her hair and dropping kisses on the crown of her head, Shallan feels more solid, if still a bit fragile.
It’s a strange combination, the euphoria still settled heavily in her bones mixed with the rawness of what they just did, the vulnerability of letting another person have such power over her soothed by knowing it’s Jasnah, who cares about her, who would never hurt her, who thinks Shallan is beautiful and wonderful and tells her so often.
The awareness of how Jasnah feels about her, how strongly this fierce, intelligent woman believes in her, is so much harder to ignore or shrug off when she feels this good—after Jasnah just made her feel this good. Right now Shallan is too warm and content to even imagine hating herself.
“Who knew the view was so nice inside a storage closet,” Shallan murmurs, voice shockingly hoarse, from where she’s essentially tucked herself into Jasnah’s chest.
She can feel the puff of air from Jasnah’s laugh, where she’s still laying her head on Shallan’s.
“I’ve spent enough time watching your line of sight during lecture to know that you’re certainly not depriving yourself of the view otherwise.”
Shallan grins, not even bothering to deny it. “They’re one of the great wonders of Roshar. I’m just watching history happen in real time. I’m studying, Jasnah.”
Jasnah sniffs, going for an irritated tone mostly undermined by her fingers still running gently through Shallan’s hair. “I don’t suppose you’re planning on taking a break from your studies anytime soon? My legs are falling asleep while you watch history happen.”
Shallan full-on snorts at that, leaning up to give Jasnah a peck on the mouth before snuggling back into her breasts with a very blatant yawn. She’s warm, and Jasnah’s arms around her are heavenly, and she can feel the smile Jasnah is pressing into her hair.
“In a minute.”