The Couch

 

Clarke kept pressing forward, and Lexa could do nothing but continue to kiss the woman of her dreams and take stuttered steps backwards until her knees bumped into her couch. The sudden stop ended their makeout with a start. Clarke’s eyes darted back and forth over Lexa’s face, her expression hard to read.

 

“Are you all right?” Lexa’s voice sounded breathy and raspy and entirely not like her. She pushed aside the foreign sound, more concerned with the woman standing bare-chested in front of her.

 

Clarke nodded fervently, taking both of Lexa’s hands in her own and playing with her fingers as she gazed into Lexa’s eyes. The warmth radiating through the gaze was overwhelming, and Lexa’s heart reacted appropriately pounding even harder as the seconds ticked by.

 

“Is this still okay?” Clarke asked as she untangled their fingers and hooked them in the waistband of Lexa’s pants. It took Lexa less than a second to nod her head fervently. Because Lexa was pretty damn certain she loved Clarke, and she wasn’t sure if this was just about sex. She wasn’t sure if Clarke wanted more than just one night like she did. So if Clarke didn’t feel the same, if this was to be the only chance she got to be with her, Lexa was going to take full advantage.

 

Clarke gathered the waistband in her hands, hooking under Lexa’s boyshorts as well. She dragged the fabric down Lexa’s legs, and the coolness of her apartment send shivers along her overly sensitive skin. Clarke traced her fingers up, letting her nails scrape gently up Lexa’s body, and when she reached her hips, she gave an encouraging shove, urging Lexa to sit back.

 

The fabric of Lexa’s couch was rough against her hypersensitive flesh, but all thoughts of discomfort were soon forgotten as Clarke stood in between her spread legs and pushed her own sweats off. The pants pooled at Clarke’s feet and when her underwear joined them, she kicked them gracefully off to the side before straddling Lexa’s lap.

 

Lexa’s hands had minds of their own and gripped at Clarke’s exposed hips as she settled down. Clarke’s weight was perfect and comfortable on her thighs, and the following kiss was heated and delicious. Their chests pressed against one another as Clarke wrapped strong arms around Lexa’s neck keeping them close as their tongues danced together.

 

Lexa wasn’t even aware of her own body’s movements, her hips rising and canting searching for friction, until Clarke pulled back with the coyest, bordering dark look Lexa had ever seen. The blue of her eyes was almost unrecognizable with the black pool of desire engulfing her irises.

 

“Fingers or mouth?” Clarke asked without any preamble whatsoever. Lexa swallowed thickly as she contemplated that excellent question.