archenemy | clexa

thirty nine

Although Lexa thought that just like their last few times, it would start on spite and bloom into heated passion, this time is different. Clarke might have teased Lexa just like usual, but she's impossibly gentle with Lexa once they're naked on the bed.

It's like she has never seen Lexa's body before and wants to explore every bit of it, breathes of touches everywhere, soft but passionate kisses while Clarke skillfully braids Lexa's hair back a little. "What do you want, my love? My mouth?"

"Fuck," Lexa breathes unintentionally, fingers digging into Clarke's hips and creating little white spots. "If you keep calling me that, I'm going to marry you tomorrow and I won't care when other people do it. And your mouth, yes, please."

Clarke chuckles. "You got it."

-

It's strange, but Lexa has never felt as secure as she does when she falls off the edge and Clarke catches her. Her hands are on Lexa's waist, holding onto the hot and sweaty skin that moves with Lexa's every panted breath. For the first time, this isn't venting anger or desperation. For the first time, it's connecting with Clarke in a way Lexa should be familiar with after two years with Costia, but is entirely unprepared for nonetheless.

Clarke has a strange way of intimacy that makes her fuck Lexa with her tongue so well that Lexa is a mere mess and cannot control either her moans or her squirming. It makes Lexa's legs spread further and her muscles tense more and more until they finally relax like they haven't in days.

Clarke comes up then, after pressing a lingering kiss to Lexa's hipbone, and looks at Lexa with a tenderness that makes Lexa's eyes water. Clarke is still touching her, hands on her ribcage now and her body hovering close to Lexa's. She presses another one of her sweet kisses on Lexa's jaw, slowly, intentionally, before doing the same to Lexa's lips.

Then, she settles on simply looking at Lexa and stroking her cheek, yet before she can say something stupid that might make Lexa cry again, Lexa pulls her back down by her neck to kiss her. She helps Clarke straddle her, though before she can try to turn them around, she feels Clarke's hips buck. Wetness smears over Lexa's thigh.

She looks at Clarke when they part, almost questioningly. Clarke's eyes are only half-open and pleasure-filled, a dark, gleaming color looking back at Lexa. It's like her hips move on their own, though this time, the movement is stopped mid-way when Clarke sees Lexa's look. "Is this okay?"

"Fuck, yes, do whatever you want."

So Clarke keeps riding Lexa's thigh, legs spread, skin glinting with sweat, blond hair falling back when her head does, breasts moving whenever Clarke does, closed eyes and an arched back. Lexa's hands settle on Clarke's hips first, then, like Clarke always does, she leans up and presses a little kiss to Clarke's collarbone. "Can I touch your breasts?" she asks quietly and feels Clarke's movements falter alongside a soft moan.

"Yes, please."

So Lexa holds Clarke's breasts and peppers more kisses over them, eventually taking a stiff pink nipple between her lips and making Clarke shudder. "Oh fuck, yes."

The more Lexa tries out what Clarke likes, the more sloppy she gets on Lexa's thigh, until her body shakes and her moans grow more regular and high-pitched and eventually, she falls apart in Lexa's arms and more wetness coats Lexa's thigh than before. The high is extended longer than usual and it makes Lexa think that Clarke has been searching for an opportunity to get off like this.

Really, Clarke only has to ask. Lexa would readily lie there and offer her thigh whenever Clarke wants her to.

Clarke drops onto Lexa exhausted afterwards, who wraps her arms around the woman and traces her hand down Clarke's spine. "Oh shit, that was so good," Clarke breathes. "Fuck."