Baker and Jones Ch. 17

"Christ, Annette..." she mutters amorously as the pads of Annette's fingers circle mischievously over her clit, never quite resting on it for longer than a second.

"Easy, Miss Jones," Annette's voice purrs, "we wouldn't want me to get the wrong idea and conclude you like to be teased." She places a string of kisses along her neck. "If I learned something like that... I'd be incentivized to tease you far more often."

Cordelia moans as Annette's hand slides inside of her undergarments, her fingers drifting through the little hairs and adding a little more pressure. She places her palm against Cordelia's clit, gently rubbing against it while her fingers glide between her wet lips. She's careful not to allow them to enter, making Cordelia even more desperate for her.

"I... I see you've brought quite an energy with you... tonight," Cordelia sighs between heavy breaths.

"All the better to please you with," Annette smiles back, kissing her once more.

Cordelia switches which hand holds the back of Annette's head and carefully places her newly freed hand onto Annette's panties, causing the girl to gasp happily. "Perhaps... Perhaps Miss Baker is in need of some teasing as well?"

"Nonsense," Annette puffs, feeling her clit stiffen at Cordelia's touch.

"I believe she might disagree," Cordelia smirks, wrapping her fingers around the shaft and slowly stroking it.

The two of them rub one another in earnest, feeling light and free and lovely, enjoying the playful competition and the satisfying closeness between them. With each one of Cordelia's breaths that heave in her ear, Annette once again delights in the sweet bliss of unhurried time with her. Even with the impending dawn threatening their ardor, she could allow herself to rest in the simple enjoyment of this woman. And when Cordelia's thighs clench against her palm, locking it in place while the detective utters desperate pleas for more until she finally collapses into Annette's arm, it's difficult to resist the urge to kiss her once more, on and on and on as the fire crackles beside them.

"I told you once," Cordelia whispers, holding Annette and running a finger along her cheek, "that my mind is only ever quiet when I'm fucking, boxing, or investigating."

Annette smiles and places her own palm on Cordelia's face, gazing joyously on her beautiful features. "You did."

"I find it also settles when I'm with you."

"Cordelia..." Annette kisses her sweetly, Cordelia's hand gently running through her hair once more.

"It's true," she confirms, sitting up for just long enough to grab a blanket and pull it over their naken bodies. "You often speak as though I've revealed some grand capacity in you simply by believing in you and such."

"You have."

"Annette..." she sighs contentedly. "I often... I cannot..." She pauses, trying to let her words form properly while Annette looks fondly upon her. "It's as though my heart was a faulty machine, and you, a clever mechanic. I didn't realize how far I allowed myself to slump. I'd forgotten what it felt like to walk in stride, and to feel as though I am at my greatest capacity."

Cordelia closes her eyes for a moment and when they reopen, Annette is a little surprised to find them water ever-so-slightly. "Thank you," she says hoarsely, "I cannot say it profoundly enough: thank you. I want so desperately to be this woman you see in me."

Annette leans forward to kiss her cheek. "You already are her."

The detective laughs, not out of any sort of amusement, but out of relief. She leans back, resting her arms behind her head and staring contentedly at the ceiling. Annette lifts her own head to lay it on her shoulder, allowing herself to rest in the feeling of being near her for as long as she can.

It isn't until she hears the morning doves softly cooing outside their window that she finally forces herself up, stretching a little and whispering, "I... I suppose morning comes inescapably nearer, and with it, the day."

"Alas," Cordelia exhales, "it does."

Annette rises, retrieving her underwear and her shirt and slowly beginning to don them. "Shall I go gather our notes so we might work in earnest?"

"A moment," she sits up as well, watching her affectionately, "if you'll indulge me."

"Always," Annette grins.

Cordelia stands, stretching at the hip as rises. She pulls her own undershirt and trousers on, quickly strolling upstairs. She returns a few quiet moments later with a box in her hands, low and flat.

"I've told you I first thought I loved you when I saw you in my clothes," she says, offering the box to Annette. "But I feel it is time for you to have a proper set of your own."

Annette looks inside to see a freshly ironed and laundered set of clothes. There's a crisp collared shirt, a set of lovely slacks, and a matching vest, all tasteful and elegant. "Cordelia," she kisses her quickly, "This... this is so thoughtful."

"Do you recognize them?"

Annette's eyebrow pops up lightly. "Should I?"

Cordelia looks proud of her own cleverness, grinning and stating, "This is the outfit you took from me to go steal Brimwell's letter. I had them retailored to fit you properly. I've been waiting for the right moment to give them to you."

"Cordelia!" Annette exclaims happily, her voice almost squeaking.

"Put them on."

Annette quickly removes the clothes she had so hastily thrown back on, trading them out for the new set in front of her. She smirks with the realization Cordelia must've studied her more often and more closely than she realized, pulling the pants on to find that they fit better than some of her own clothes. She buttons the shirt, tucks it in, and choses to take Cordelia's suspenders instead of the vest.

"They're perfect," she sighs, quickly gazing in a nearby mirror.

"You look incredible," Cordelia smiles, delighted at her successful gift. "I shall rest easier knowing a part of me is with you."

Annette isn't sure how to respond, overwhelmed with appreciation and a warm tenderness in her heart. She kisses Cordelia, pulling away with a glow on her cheeks.

"I've another gift," the detective continues. She pulls a small key out from the pocket of the vest. "With Wemberly in chains... I took the opportunity to swipe this."

Annette's eyes narrow. "Is that..."

"Lean forward," she directs.

With a hand on her collar, Annette feels a small twinge of fear press forward into her chest. "Cordelia... this is what allows me to stay in your home. It's what prevents suspicion of why we're together so often. I..."

"You will always have a place here, so long as you desire it," the detective asserts, her face firm and kind. "If people require an explanation, tell them you're my official partner in my investigations."

Annette grimaces with a weak smile. "Must I escape from service twice?"

"When you are in front of the city today," Cordelia's voice sounds important and proud, "I should like you to be properly free and clear. A powerful woman in your own right. Allow me this, if you would."

"I will," Annette nods, feeling her own eyes water.

Cordelia leans forward, carefully placing the key inside the mechanism on Annette's collar. She feels the lock tick quietly inside, slowly giving way to the key, until the pressure from the band releases. Cordelia soberly pulls the collar away, gently setting it on the table beside her. From her pocket, she pulls out the signet ring that had recently adorned the band, and her eyes meet Annette's as she slides it onto the girl's finger.

"It need not represent betrothal," Cordelia whispers, "but I should like you to have a physical token of my love." She kisses Annette, lifting a hand to wipe away the small tear trickling down her cheek. "Now, let us prepare for the most important day of our lives."