For the first time all week, Lexa woke to sunlight streaming in through her bedroom window rather than the jarring wail of an alarm clock. She very much appreciated the inventions Skaikru had introduced—or re-introduced—into her culture, but sometimes, they caused more problems (or more discomfort) than they solved.
She yawned, curling her toes and stretching her legs beneath the covers. It felt good to wake up naturally for a change. Though she would never admit it, she appreciated that Clarke forced her to take one day off per week, barring any emergencies. It had taken her a little over a decade to come around to the idea, but she was starting to see the wisdom in her wife’s ultimatum.
And where is my wife? she wondered, blinking the blurriness from her eyes. The empty spot beside her was still warm, so she doubted Clarke had been awake for long. That was unusual. If anything, Clarke was the heavier sleeper, in addition to her habit of taking ill-advised afternoon naps. Lexa almost always woke up first, alarm clock or no alarm clock.
Her question was answered by the sound of a flushing toilet from the adjoining bathroom, followed by the hiss of water. Another wonderful thing Skaikru had brought with them: indoor plumbing. Not completely unheard of before Clarke and her companions came crashing down from the sky, but certainly not as sophisticated as the set-up Polis, and her own bedroom, now boasted.
Moments later, Clarke strolled in, her naked body cast in panels of gold from the sunshine leaking in through the window. Her hair was a mess, and the flesh beneath her chin wrinkled and folded as she yawned without covering her mouth. Lexa had never seen a more beautiful vision in her life. Clarke had only grown more beautiful these past twenty years, and Lexa suspected she would continue to age in the same breathtaking manner.
“What’re you looking at, weirdo?” Clarke grumbled, obviously not happy to be awake. “I had to pee. Is that something I need supervision for now?”
Lexa rolled her eyes. “Did I leave our bed to find you? Did I gather a search party?”
“Smartass.” Clarke shuffled over to the bed, snuffling loudly and rubbing her eyes. Lexa’s overprotectiveness was more of a private joke these days. It had been years since anyone had made an attempt on Clarke’s life, or her own for that matter, and they spent much less time under the protection of bodyguards.
Lexa rolled onto her side, lifting one arm, and Clarke took the invitation, climbing back into bed and wriggling beneath its furs. She groaned, letting her head flop on the pillow as Lexa wrapped an arm around her waist. “Good morning,” she murmured against the back of Clarke’s neck, placing a soft kiss there.
“Hmm.” Clarke gave a slight shiver. “Morning.”
Lexa smiled and closed her eyes. She wanted to kiss her way down Clarke’s spine, along the traditional tattoos that now decorated her back, and devote as much attention to her wife as she would allow. But it was early, and Clarke was obviously sleepy, so Lexa contented herself with stroking her fingers idly along Clarke’s belly.
“What are we doing today?” Clarke asked.
“Well, I need to speak with—”
“Nope. Try again. What fun thing are we doing on our day off?”
Lexa snorted. “If you would let me finish, I was going to ask your mother when she plans on visiting Polis. Your birthday is coming.” Birthdays had never been all that important to Lexa before Clarke. She no longer remembered her own, although Clarke had forced her to select an arbitrary day for some limited celebration. But Clarke enjoyed celebrating hers—“Because it’s another year I kicked life’s ass,” she liked to say—and Lexa enjoyed seeing her happy.
“Oh. Uh, sure. You can call my Mom if you want. But that won’t take all day.” Clarke rolled around in her arms, and Lexa couldn’t miss the mischievous look twinkling in her beautiful blue eyes.
“I assume you have some suggestions, niron?”
Clarke leaned in, brushing her lips against Lexa’s with surprising gentleness. It was a slight departure from the way they usually kissed. Not that Clarke couldn’t be sweet or tender, but she wasn’t shy about making her needs known, either. The kiss was soft enough to make Lexa shudder, and she tightened her hold on Clarke’s hip without conscious thought.
Lexa didn’t bother asking Clarke for clarification. Twenty years was plenty of time for them to learn how to communicate without words. She opened her mouth, and Clarke’s tongue brushed her lower lip, only just slipping inside before withdrawing. The warm wash of Clarke’s breath was tinged with the smell of mint, and Lexa chased the taste with her own tongue.
Their kisses remained slow and unhurried. They were already naked, so there were no clothes to shed as Lexa guided one of Clarke’s thighs over her hip, allowing one of her knees to press between Clarke’s legs. Clarke stroked her hair, while she busied herself kneading the ample cheeks of Clarke’s backside—something she did, and never tired of doing, whenever she could reach them.
“Lexa,” Clarke moaned, breaking away from her lips to nibble the side of her neck. “You smell good.”
“I haven’t washed yet,” Lexa said, with a soft laugh.
“You smell like sleep and you.”
“At least it’s a pleasant scent?”
“Hmm.” Clarke took Lexa’s lips again, somewhat more insistently this time. Warmth gathered in Lexa’s lower abdomen. It was a slow, simmering build, which she had no desire to rush, but she did hiss and tug at Clarke’s ear with her teeth when Clarke tweaked the hardened point of her nipple. Clarke merely laughed. “You like that, huh?”
Lexa smiled. “I like everything you do.”
“That’s a dirty lie.” Gently, Clarke rolled Lexa onto her back, straddling her hips. “I annoy you all the time.”
Lexa took a moment to admire the view. If Clarke had looked stunning while trudging out of the bathroom, eyes still bleary with sleep, she looked twice as beautiful now, her hair even messier than before, lips swollen from kissing, heavy breasts capped with stiff pink nipples. “Not this morning.”
“Hmph.” Clarke bent down for another kiss, smearing her wetness against Lexa’s stomach in a way that could only be intentional. Lexa regained some control by caressing her rear, cupping loosely at first, then guiding Clarke in a slow grind that soon had her panting. “Tease...”
“Tease?” Lexa gave Clarke her best innocent look, a look she’d never needed before their meeting. Before they’d become intimate enough to joke and play with each other. “I thought we were only cuddling.” She pulled Clarke forward, causing her to hiss.
“Cuddling. Right. I’ll show you cuddling. I’ll cuddle you so hard you can’t see straight.”
But there was nothing hard or aggressive about the way Clarke proceeded. She merely stretched overtop Lexa, allowing their curves to meld, and kissed her lightly on the nose, sliding an open hand along her thigh. Up and down, up and down it travelled, without actually cupping between Lexa’s legs, until Lexa lost patience and stopped groping Clarke’s ass long enough to guide it into place and hold it there.
“Mm,” Clarke sighed against Lexa’s cheek, smiling in a very self-satisfied way. “You’re wet.”
“This surprises you?” Lexa said, trying to keep her voice steady. She managed for the most part, although the slippery movements of Clarke’s fingers as they peeled her lips apart and circled in search of her clit were very trying indeed. It was somewhat astounding, how easily Clarke could undo her with almost no effort at all.
“No. But I’m happy about it.” She buried her face in Lexa’s neck, as if to take deep breaths of her. At the same time, her fingers went to work, tracing around Lexa’s clit until it throbbed.
Lexa buried her own face in Clarke’s golden hair. She suddenly, desperately needed to come, and Clarke was being a tease despite accusing her of the same. But she also didn’t want to come, because that meant Clarke might stop touching her, if only momentarily. It was a comforting contradiction, though. Not the kind that brought her stress, but the kind that relaxed her, because she remained in Clarke’s arms all the while.
She did manage to make one request, however: “Inside.”
Clarke obeyed, sliding two fingers inside her without meeting any resistance. Lexa was more than wet enough, and she sighed at the stretch. Although she didn’t need quite as much penetration as Clarke preferred, she still loved the feeling of fullness. Of connectedness. She rocked slowly against Clarke’s hand, catching her clit on her wife’s palm and murmuring praise.
“You make feel so good, hodnes. So good.”
Obviously pleased, Clarke scattered a few kisses along her jaw. “Wanna make you feel good. Always.”
“You do. Jok, you do.”
Despite her efforts to draw her own pleasure out, Lexa came soon after. She could defend herself against any number of enemies, but Clarke knew how to pierce the very heart of her, how to exploit her every weakness. And Lexa didn’t even mind, because Clarke also made her stronger. She released in Clarke’s hand, bucking and shuddering and whispering words of love.
“I’ve got you,” Clarke murmured between closed-mouth kisses, just as gentle as the ones they’d started with. “Got you.”
Lexa went limp, sighing as the ripples in her core became aftershocks. She squeezed a few more times around Clarke’s fingers, riding out the last waves of her peak, but stilled the motion of her hips. She closed her eyes and smiled, basking in the sensation of Clarke’s warm, soft body pressed on top of hers. Then, she opened her eyes and reversed their positions, kissing a slow, winding trail down Clarke’s chest and sucking one of her nipples.
There was no way she would let Clarke get away with doing all the work this morning. It was supposed to be her day off, but that was no excuse for laziness. Besides, she thought as she slid three fingers inside of Clarke, who was absolutely dripping with wetness and more than ready to be taken, we have plenty of time. Years and years.