Clexa One Shots

Knots

The Commander's fingers play across her sweat-sheened back, a fleeting caress that is gone before it has a chance to fully register.

"Impressive." Lexa adds without warmth.

If asked, Clarke would have no problem admitting that it was been her temper that landed her in hot water. One moment the Azgeda Ambassador was throwing a barbed remark her way, and the next she was at his throat - verbally and physically.

How she'd gotten into his personal space, Clarke can't recall, that part of the meeting absent from her memory.

"You get to kick people off the tower." She mutters under her breath, somewhat seething at the unfairness of the situation.

Her face is so smushed into the furs, Clarke is sure Lexa won't hear the words, but the fingers pushing the slicked knot against her core, tell her she is wrong. Lexa forces the knotted rope inside of her and, when she feels it pop past her entrance Clarke whimpers, hips bucking as heat shoots up her spine.

"I am Heda." Lexa's voice is almost soft.

Almost.

"I think you have learned nothing." Lexa continues conversationally. "I think I'll have to teach you."

The finger holding the knot inside of Clarke is removed, but her walls have clamped down so hard around it, that it remains in place. It drives her mad with need, big enough to part her walls and rub against them whenever she moves, but not nearly sufficient to reach all the places she needs pressure to be.

Lexa hand closes around a handful of her hair, pulling Clarke's head off the furs. The Commander is standing over her now, legs brushing up to the side of the bed, and she feels diminished by her presence.

There is no other place Clarke would rather be.

She allows her eyes to rove up the length of Lexa's body, knowing that her lover will be able to read hunger on her face.

Lexa's smile widens, her free hand falling to her belt buckle, and the sizeable bulge tenting the front of her pants. Clarke can only wonder how she'd failed to notice it before.

She watches, mesmerized, as Lexa undoes her pants, fishing out the strap-on. Clarke is familiar with it, and how it would feel, having been on the receiving end before.

She must have moaned, because Lexa tilts her head back with a laugh, the hold she still has on Clarke's hair slackening.

The Commander guides her head back down, fingers lingering to scratch at her scalp once she is resting on the furs again.

"Not so fast. Patience, remember?"

Lexa moves away, the room falling quiet around them, and Clarke begins to think she's left again. She whimpers, heart clenching so hard that she can taste it beating on her tongue, and she has to swallow a few times to hold back the tears welling in her eyes.

"I'm here." Warmth returns to Lexa's tone, unannounced in the way spring does just when it looks like winter will last forever and, when her hand splays soothingly across Clarke's perked up ass, she sags against the bed in relief.

Her teeth bite into her lower lip until it bleeds, but Clarke doesn't cry out, and - perhaps because she's been one breath away from breaking down - it makes her oddly proud.

Lexa starts slow, hands working away the numbness that had settled over Clarke's bones, making her feel as if her muscles are carved from lead. She has grown so stiff that she can barely feel Lexa's touch in the beginning but, after some time, blood returns to its normal flowing, pins and needles spreading across Clarke's skin as sensation comes back to her flesh.