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It has been an entire week since Clarke first went to the church, and to say that she had been… busy… would be an understatement. Something deep within herself was unlocked that day in the small confession booth.
Something Clarke really wanted to thank Lexa for.
She pulls her jacket tighter around her as her heels click on the sidewalk, filling her with a strong sense of déjà vu. The temperature has been steadily dropping during the week making the air around her start to feel bitter. She walks faster.
Finally, she stops in front of the church. She stares at the large doors, and swallows when she thinks about what happened the last time she walked through them.
Clarke only hopes her timing is as good as it was last week.
Lifting her head, Clarke walks up to the large doors, and makes her way inside of the church.
It still is as beautiful as she remembers it to be. The music is still playing, but a lighter tune this time, and the candles are still reflecting in the deep wood of the floors and pews. The biggest difference, however, was that instead of the confession booth being her destination, it was the altar.
Or rather, the person sorting through papers behind the altar.
Lexa.
The priest has yet to notice Clarke standing in the doorway, so Clarkes allows herself this chance to finally see what Lexa looks like.
And – fuck. If only she had a vivid image of her last week.
Lexa is hot. Like, really, fucking hot. She is wearing tight black slacks and a form fitting gray sweater. Her long, dark curly hair falls slightly in front of her face. And Clarke is still on the other side of the church, but she could see that jawline from a mile away.
Dragging her eyes up and down Lexa’s form, Clarke lazily dunks her fingers into the holy water, makes the sign of the cross, and begins the walk down the aisle to Lexa.
At the echo of Clarke’s heels, Lexa finally looks up. She stands up fully and straightens a stack of papers while smiling at Clarke.
“Hello, and welcome. Is there anything I can help you with?” She asks as she walks to the front of the altar. “Everyone has already gone home, I’m afraid, and I was planning on leaving once I was done with preparing next week’s sermon.”
Clarke smirks at Lexa, and she can see Lexa’s jaw clench.
She has no idea who I am. Perfect.
“I was actually hoping I’d run into you, Father,” Clarke replies. She sees Lexa grip the papers in her hands so tightly they crumble a little when Lexa hears Clarke’s voice.
“Oh… You’re… Oh.”
Clarke just continues smirking and slowly walking forward. When she steps up onto the same level as Lexa, the other woman matches Clarke’s every step with one of her own backwards.
Eventually Lexa bumps into the altar behind her, and Clarke stares her down. She stops about a foot in front of her, and she allows her eyes to slowly travel down the priest’s body.
Oh Lord…
She is even more attractive up close. Clarke can clearly see Lexa’s strong leg muscles thanks to her tight pants, and her fingers itch to slowly pull those pants off of her. She continues working her gaze up until she stops on the swell of Lexa’s breasts pushing against the gray sweater. Clarke bites her lip and flicks her hooded eyes up to look at Lexa.
“I wanted to thank you, Lexa,” and Clarke smirks when she sees Lexa gulp. “Our session last week really,” Clarke starts undoing the buttons of her jacket, “came through for me.”
“You are, uh…” Lexa clears her throat and sets the papers in her hands down on the altar. “You’re welcome…”
“Clarke,” she supplies.
Lexa licks her lips.
“You are welcome, Clarke,” and the way she says her name has Clarke ready to kneel down and pray.
“In fact,” she continues, “I wanted to make sure I gave you a very proper thank you.”
And Clarke grabs the sides of her coat, and slowly drags it down until it falls off and pools around her high heels. Clarke peers up at Lexa through her eyelashes when she hears her gasp.
Because Clarke is standing in the middle of a church in nothing but her lacy black underwear.
Lexa has a death grip on the altar behind her turning her knuckles white. She bites her lip as her eyes shamelessly travel all over Clarke’s exposed body. Her green eyes have almost turned completely black, and Clarke watches as Lexa’s chest begins to heave up and down.
“I figured since you couldn’t see it last time, I would offer you a perfect visual now.”
“I…” Lexa’s voice is strangled. The priest can’t say a word as Clarke slowly walks up to her. Lexa presses herself against the altar even further when Clarke reaches out to gently trace the silver chain around Lexa’s neck that holds a cross at the bottom.
“Do you like it, Father?” Clarke breathes out. And before Lexa can even attempt to answer her, Clarke tilts her head up and presses an open mouth kiss at the bottom of Lexa’s jaw.
“Fuck…”
Clarke chuckles as she continues pressing hot kisses down Lexa’s neck. She stops at the top of the sweater and kisses the clerical collar. Working her way back up, pausing only to suck and nibble on Lexa’s smooth skin, Clarke lets her hands travel down Lexa’s arms. She softly peels Lexa’s hands off from the altar and places them on her own exposed skin.
And the suddenly, with Clarke underneath of her palms, Lexa comes to life.
Before Clarke even knows what’s happening, Lexa picks her up and spins her around. Clarke is sat on the edge of the altar and Lexa is staring her down with hungry eyes. Clarke smirks at the predatory gaze, and crooks her finger, begging Lexa to come closer.
And she does.
Lexa surges forward and crashes their lips together. It’s rough with nothing but teeth and quick tongues, each woman trying to get as close to the other one as possible. Clarke threads her hands through Lexa’s hair, wrapping her legs around her waist. Lexa’s hands roam all over Clarke’s body. She pinches one of Clarke’s hard nipples through her bra, making Clarke throw her head back and gasp.
Lexa uses this opportunity to kiss her way down Clarke’s neck, making sure to bite and suck hard enough to leave marks.
Clarke can feel herself getting wet. She can feel herself throbbing, can feel the tingling spread throughout her body – following Lexa’s tongue and fingers. She can feel herself trying to rub against Lexa, desperate for any type of friction. She moans and grabs Lexa’s hair pulling her tighter against her.
Lexa palms both of Clarke’s breasts, alternating between massaging and pinching. She kisses her way back up Clarke’s neck, over her jaw, and sucks quickly on Clarke’s earlobe.
“Clarke,” she breathes out. And Clarke can do nothing but moan and cant her hips faster, hard. “Clarke,” Lexa begins again, “do you know your prayers, Clarke?”
It’s a devious thing to ask her, because she can barely remember her name. But Clarke tries to think back to when she used to go to church. Lexa has slowed down her hands, has stop tweaking her hard nipples, and, fuck – Clarke needs her to keep doing that. So she thinks. And she remembers.
“Yes,” Clarke croaks out. “Yes, I do. I – fuck keep doing that – I do.”
And it must be what Lexa wants to hear because she moves her hands again. But they move further down Clarke’s body, over her stomach, her hips, her thighs. All while ignoring where Clarkes wants her – needs her – the most.
Clarke unwraps her legs from around Lexa as she starts to kiss down her body. She kisses down until the top of Clarke’s lacy bra. Lexa squeezes Clarke’s hips and reaches back up to press a searing kiss to her lips.
“Recite them,” Lexa all but growls out, her fingers digging in harder on Clarke’s hips. Lexa starts kissing back down Clarke’s front as she moans and squirms on the altar.
“You’re – oh fuck – you’re fucking kidding me right now, Lexa,” she bites her lip and closes her eyes when Lexa finally slides her hands under Clarke’s bra. Her skin is smooth, but her motions are rough; she pinches Clarke’s nipples, tugging at them, pulling loud moans from Clarke. “Oh God.”
Lexa tuts at Clarke as she slips her hands out from under her bra. Clarke whines at the loss of contact.
“Now, now, Clarke. We don’t say the Lord’s name in vain, do we?” And Lexa is standing over her, and Clarke’s skin is flushed and burning for her touch. So she bites her lip and shakes her head.
“No. I’m sorry, Father,” Clarke replies, and she bites her lip harder at the way Lexa smirks at her.
“Good,” and she rewards Clarke by swiftly unclasping her bra, letting the lacy fabric fall to the floor. Clarke gasps at the sudden cold air that hits her chest.
But the cold air is suddenly replaced by Lexa’s mouth and her gasp turns into a strangled moan.
“Oh fuck that feels so good,” Clarke’s hands once again tangle in Lexa’s hair. Lexa kisses over Clarke’s breast before focusing on her nipple; she bites and sucks, swirling her tongue around the bud.
Clarke can feel herself throbbing, begging for something more.
Lexa eventually stops to start a slow trail over to Clarke’s other nipple. But she bites it hard and rough, and Clarke arches under her mouth.
“The prayers, Clarke.” And when Clarke only gasps for air, she growls again. “Now.”
Clarke needs Lexa’s mouth on her again. Needs to her kiss her, bite her, suck her – more, and harder. So she nods and starts reciting the first prayer that pops into her mind.
“Hail Mary,” she gasps, “full of Grace, the Lord is with thee,” her voice jumps up when not only does Lexa return to Clarke’s breast, but her hands also slides under Clarke, squeezing her ass.
“Keep going,” Lexa demands as she travels her kisses down Clarke’s stomach, fingers kneading into Clarke’s ass.
“Fuck, I need to – I need to take these – these off,” Clarke struggles, her head thrown back.
But it makes Lexa stop – stop squeezing, stop kissing, stop licking down her stomach.
“I will take them off when you continue with your prayer.” Clarke just gasps and frantically nods her head.
“Of course, Father.” She takes a deep breath and tries to remember where she left off. “Blessed are thou among - Lexa” Lexa chuckles when she kisses a sensitive spot on the inside of Clarke’s thigh.
“I don’t quite think that’s how it goes,” Lexa says, and her breath is hot against Clarke’s core. Clarke closes her eyes and leans back on her arms.
“Oh fuck me,” she whispers.
Lexa kisses the same spot on her thigh again. “Believe me – I will. Once you continue the prayer.”
Clarke looks down to see Lexa smirking between her legs. She groans and continues.
“Blessed are thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus.” Lexa moves until she is finally, finally, where Clarke wants her. She kisses Clarke over her underwear and her nose nudges Clarke’s clit, making her groan. Lexa takes a deep breath, and flicks her gaze back up to Clarke.
“You stop, I stop.”
Oh God. She can’t stop. Clarke will not allow her to stop.
She continues her prayer.
“Holy Mother Mary of God,” and she can feel Lexa gently tugging on her underwear, slowly pulling it down and over her thighs, over her calves, following the fabric with her mouth. Until finally, Clarke is completely naked sitting on the altar.
Lexa only kisses her thighs again and Clarke receives the memo.
“Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.”
And Lexa is finally there. She kisses both of Clarke’s folds before plunging her tongue deep within her. Lexa’s one hand wraps around Clarke’s leg, and the other starts to slowly circle Clarke’s throbbing clit. Clarke gasps and moans and threads her hands through Lexa’s hair, lets her free leg wrap around Lexa’s head.
“Amen.”
Clarke untangles a hand from Lexa’s hand to slowly skim her way up to her own breast. As Lexa switches and starts circling Clarke’s clit with her tongue, Clarke pinches her own nipple, rolling it under her fingers.
“Oh fuck, Lexa. Right there.”
Lexa dips a finger into Clarke’s soaked core, making Clarke throw her head back. Her moans fill the empty church, echoing back to her.
The sound only encourages Lexa.
But only for a moment before she looks up at Clarke, chin shining from Clarke’s wetness.
“Another prayer.”
“Yes, Father,” Clarke breathes out. But she’s so close, she can feel herself dripping over Lexa’s hand, she can the pressure beginning to build. And all she can think about is the feeling of Lexa touching her. All she can remember is last week as Lexa told her exactly what she would do to her. All she can do is moan as Lexa does exactly what she said she would.
But Lexa demands another prayer.
So Clarke is going to recite her one.
“Our Father,” Lexa adds another finger. “Who art in Heaven,” she quickens her pace. “Hallowed be thy name.”
Clarke moans and fucks herself against Lexa’s face. She is so close, she is so fucking close. And Lexa can tell, because she slows down at Clarke’s pauses, keeping her from reaching the peak.
“Clarke,” and it’s sharp and it pierces right through her.
“I’m so close,” she says instead. Lexa quickly reaches up and roughly pinches one of Clarke’s nipples, making her gasp sharply.
“Thy King-Kingdom – Thy Kingdom,” but Clarke can’t finish panting it out.
All she feels is Lexa, sucking her clit, flicking it back and forth with her tongue. All she can feel is Lexa’s long fingers pumping in and out of her. All she can feel are those fingers curling at exactly the right time hitting exactly the right spot. All she can feel is Lexa moaning against her.
All Clarke can feel is the orgasm building up so strongly inside of her.
All she can think about is Lexa.
So Lexa finishes it for her.
“Come.”
And Clarke does.
She grips through Lexa’s hair, holding her against her core as she shakes, and moans, and screams Lexa’s name. She clamps her thighs around her, and they quiver as Lexa continues to pump and lick through Clarke’s orgasm.
She comes naked and trembling on the altar, with Lexa between her legs.
Eventually, Lexa starts to slow down her motions, bringing Clarke back down. Clarke leans back on her forearms as she tries to regain her breathing. Lexa leisurely kisses her way over Clarke’s thighs, up her stomach, over each breast, and then up Clarke’s neck. Clarke shakily reaches down to cup Lexa’s face and brings their lips together.
She moans as she tastes herself on the other woman’s tongue.
The separate softly, and Clarke leans her head against Lexa’s shoulder, as Lexa slowly traces shapes on Clarke’s hips with her fingertips.
“Holy fuck,” Clarke breathes out.
Lexa chuckles and Clarke can feel her press a kiss to the top of her head.
“I think that is a pretty accurate description,” Lexa agrees.
Clarke closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She is surrounded by Lexa and she smells clean and warm. Clarke could stay like this for hours, but she lets her hands travel down Lexa’s sweater. She can feel taut muscles twitching under her touch, and Clarke pulls her head back to smirk up at Lexa, who simply raises an eyebrow at her.
“Would you like me to return the favor?” Clarke’s hands stop at the top of Lexa’s pants. She fiddles with the button, waiting for Lexa’s answer.
But Lexa just bends down and softly kisses Clarke. Her hands travel down Clarke’s arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake, until they grab Clarke’s hands.
“Maybe next time,” Lexa whispers when she pulls away from Clarke.
And Lexa’s eyes, which were once so hungry… Are soft when they look at Clarke. She feels herself melting under the gaze, and looks away with a blush.
Blushing not because you two just fucked on a church altar – but because of how beautiful she is? Wow, Clarke. Wow.
But Clarke just bites her lip and nods her head.
“Whatever you say, Father,” she replies with a wink. Lexa smirks and then laughs at her. She pulls away from Clarke (making Clarke frown) to bend down and pick up Clarke’s discarded clothing. Clarke hops off the altar onto very shaky legs and slowly redresses herself.
Lexa just stands back, folds her arms, and watches her.
Clarke holds eye contact while she rebuttons her coat.
“I hope that thank you was sufficient.”
Lexa laughs and rolls her eyes.
“Yes, Clarke. I feel very thanked.”
“Good.”
And they just stand there, gazing at each other. The church is warm, and dim, and the music is still softly playing.
Eventually Lexa’s eyes flutter and she looks away.
“Listen, I um… If you want, I could drive you home? Unless you drove here? I just don’t want you walking back home at this hour alone. Especially with what you’re wearing. Or, rather, what you’re not wearing,” Lexa stumbles through her offer, and Clarke smiles gently at her.
“I would love it if you drove me home, Lexa.”
They both share a smile, before Lexa shakes her head.
“Right, yes, of course. If you wait here, I’ll go and get my stuff.”
Clarke nods and Lexa jogs through a door that leads to the back of the church. Clarke watches her the entire way.
Alone, Clarke’s eyes wander around the empty church, until she stops at the giant statue of Jesus on the cross. Directly above the altar.
Clarke grimaces.
“Sorry about that,” she tells the statue.
Just then Lexa returns, her own coat on and keys in her hand.
“Ready?” She asks. And Clarke grabs her hand and they start walking back to the front of the church – out into the cold November air, out into a world filled with so many possibilities. Clarke squeezes Lexa’s hand and turns to her with a smile.
“Ready.”