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The cool breeze blowing in from the shore of the lake makes the flames of the campfire dance in the air, casting shadows all round in the dimness of the evening. Clarke and Lexa had ventured to the lake with some of Clarke’s friends in tow as a surprise for Clarke’s birthday. Now, they all huddle around the fire Lexa and Lincoln had made, and nearly everyone present is nursing an alcoholic beverage. It feels like the first time in a long time that any of them had gotten the chance to just sit and talk. And drink. Monty had brewed some moonshine special for the trip, and Lexa had managed to sneak some berry wine and vodka from Polis. It was a decent enough selection to see them through on their little camping trip. And the selection seems to be doing its job, for the chatter around the fire is growing more raucous with each passing second and each shot downed.
Each teenager and young adult is in varying degrees of drunkenness. Clarke is two drinks in and sitting sideways in Lexa’s lap, head on Lexa’s shoulder, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other hand clutching a nearly empty cup. Lexa’s face is illuminated by the orange glow of the campfire, all pouty lips and jawline. Clarke can’t help but place a small peck on the bump on the bridge of Lexa’s elegant nose, a giggle escaping her lips.
Lexa grins back toothily at Clarke as she pulls away, pleasantly buzzed from the drinks she’s had, aware that Clarke maybe shouldn’t be sitting on her lap in public, but not all that worried about it. Lexa is content to hold her niron, basking in the warmth of her body, the comforting weight of Clarke in her lap. She figures it’s just chaste enough for the setting. That is, until Clarke’s hands start to wander.
Clarke’s right hand moves from Lexa’s hip to under her shirt, scratching lightly at the soft skin below, leaving goosebumps on Lexa’s back in the cool night air. Clarke’s hand drifts, tickling Lexa’s side, causing Lexa to snort in laughter. Smirking, Clarke drains what’s left of her drink in one smooth gulp and tosses the cup to the ground, freeing up her other hand. Hearing Lexa’s laughter has spurned Clarke on and now, Clarke is desperate to admire more of Lexa at once. Her newly freed hand makes its way daringly under the front of Lexa’s shirt, tickling Lexa’s toned stomach, fingertips tracing the taut muscles there.
Lexa gasps, “Clarke, what are you doing? Raven is staring at us.”
Clarke looks over her shoulder and across the fire at Raven. Sure enough, Raven is looking their way, eyes wide and a goofy grin plastered on her face. Raven shoots Clarke a wink and a thumbs up, grinning even wider somehow.
“Shh, Lex, she approves see? Thumbs up, it’s all good,” Clarke murmurs, shifting her legs about to properly straddle Lexa. Once re-settled in Lexa’s lap properly, Clarke wraps her hands around Lexa’s long neck, pulling her closer. “Now,” Clarke breathes, “Kiss me Lex.”
Before Lexa can answer, Clarke’s lips are on her own, insistent and oh so soft, just like Clarke’s hands which shift from Lexa’s neck to cup her cheeks possessively, trapping her in the kiss. It is a trap Lexa is more than willing to fall prey to and Lexa can’t help but kiss Clarke back deeply. She sneaks her tongue out, pressing against Clarke’s lips, sliding inside to meet Clarke’s tongue. Clarke smiles at the very welcome intrusion and moans into Lexa’s mouth, delighted that Lexa is kissing her back.
Lexa’s hands find Clarke’s hips and grip tight, anchoring them both. Lexa feels herself go even more lightheaded when her fingers dig lovingly into the soft flesh of Clarke’s sides. She feels like she’s downed another drink or three. Their kisses turn sloppy, teeth, tongue, saliva, and obscene sucking noises. Neither of them hear Raven’s celebratory whooping or Octavia’s wolf whistles.
Lost in the feeling of Lexa’s lips moving against hers, Clarke catches Lexa’s top lip between her own, sucking and teasing, her tongue tracing the plump shape. Not to be outdone, Lexa pulls away with wet pop, and catches Clarke’s bottom lip in between her teeth, nibbling softly, then biting down, just hard enough to pull a whimper from Clarke. Reluctantly they pull away from each other, foreheads together, panting and trying to catch their breath.
Lexa finds herself far from sated however, and whilst Clarke is still gasping for breath, she lowers her head and attacks Clarke’s neck with abandon, teeth and lips nipping and sucking at Clarke’s pulse point. If Lexa had forgotten to care about their audience before, now she barely even remembers their friends being present. She trails the tip of her tongue from Clarke’s throat, up to where her neck and her jaw meet, before sucking the sensitive flesh there hard enough to leave a mark. Lexa feels Clarke’s hands in her hair and then, Clarke is tugging Lexa’s mouth away from her neck.
“Lex”, Clarke pants, looking her love in the eye, smiling at how Lexa’s pupils have blown in undeniable arousal, “Take me to bed. Now.”
Lexa doesn’t need to be asked twice. She stands, picking up Clarke as she goes, hoisting Clarke up over her shoulder. Clarke squeals happily as Lexa shifts her, perfectly content that she is being saved from the effort of walking to the tent on legs that aren’t just shaking from alcohol consumption. Lexa is a woman on a mission, and she stalks towards her tent in silence, ignoring the rest of the Skaikru. Her mission, however, is interrupted by one Raven Reyes.
“Clarke!”, comes Raven’s shout, “where are you going? The party’s just getting started! You two can’t leave now, it’s your birthday!”
Clarke lifts her head from where she was admiring Lexa’s ass as she walked, unable to continue her gawking because Raven has captured her attention. Clarke manages to not roll her eyes at Raven and tries to play it coy, “Yeah, Rae, about that. Lexa isn’t feeling well so we’re just going to um, call it an early night. But you guys have fun,” Clarke replies, annoyed.
Raven laughs. “Oh, Lexa’s not feeling well. I see. Is that why she’s got you tossed over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes? And is that her hand I see on your ass?”
Clarke blushes, and rolls her eyes this time. “Ok, so she’s not sick, we’re just gonna- we’re gonna go, right Lex? We’re gonna go,” Clarke stammers, caught in her own, admittedly, terrible lie.
Smirking, and eyes gleaming, Lexa turns around to face Raven. “Raven, Clarke has requested that I take her to bed. I am merely fulfilling her wish,” comes Lexa’s cheeky reply, “It is her Birthday, after all.”
Raven laughs loudly, tears in her eyes. “Finally, one of you can be honest. Get it Lex!”
Lexa turns around and starts back toward her tent, Clarke is stuck where she is, face in her hands. They are almost to the entrance of the tent when Raven’s voice comes one last time, “Use protection! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! Have fun!”
If looks could kill, the look that Clarke gives Raven would kill her thrice.
Lexa chuckles as she strides through the entrance of the tent and makes her way to the bed, plopping Clarke down on the middle of it.
“Lexa,” Clarke grumbles, “Raven isn’t funny. I need to go yell at her. Defend your honor.”
Lexa laughs again, climbing onto the bed and straddling Clarke. “Clarke,” Lexa begins, “you can go yell at Raven, or,” Lexa grabs Clarke’s left hand and puts it firmly on her right breast, “you can finish what you started.”
Clarke squeezes the pert tit in her hand, bringing her right hand up to do the same on its twin. “You know,” Clarke hums, warming immediately to Lexa’s sound logic, “I can yell at her tomorrow. Right now I have work to do.”
Lexa gives Clarke a lopsided smirk at that, and leans down to kiss her, picking up where they’d left off outside. Clarke sucks Lexa’s bottom lip into the warm wetness of her mouth, pulling a moan from the Commander. Using Lexa’s distracted state to her full advantage, Clarke rolls, pinning Lexa on her back.
Lexa smiles, content with Clarke taking control for the moment, trusting Clarke in her vulnerable position. Her hands bury themselves in golden hair and Lexa tugs Clarke’s mouth back towards her own. The kiss is sloppy and sweet, all tongues and humming into each other’s mouths. Lexa lets out a purr against Clarke’s lips when she feels Clarke buck her hips, seeking out friction.
Clarke finds herself locked in position when Lexa’s long legs wrap around her hips, keeping her right where she is. Encouraged, Clarke rolls her hips again with more purpose and she moans as Lexa pulls Clarke closer with her legs, rolling her hips in time with Clarke’s. Clarke starts to grind against Lexa with abandon, the alcohol fueling her to continue even when Clarke knows they could be doing other things. Things involving less clothes. However, lost in the barest amount of friction she is getting, Clarke buries her face in Lexa’s neck, inhaling the scent of her lover’s skin as she moves.
As if thinking on Clarke’s behalf, Lexa’s hands go to Clarke’s hips, sneaking under the hem of her shirt, long fingers caressing soft, pale skin. She trails her hands higher, up Clarke’s sides, then back down again. Clarke’s eyes flutter shut at Lexa’s touches, whole body shivering under the light brushes of Lexa’s fingers, always left just that little rough from a life of wielding weapons.
Remembering what she’s meant to be doing, Clarke still her hips and forces her eyes open, lifting her head from Lexa’s neck. She swats Lexa’s hands away, grabbing them and pinning them above Lexa’s head. Then, because she can’t trust herself not to just keep grinding against Lexa all night in her current state, Clarke forces herself out of Lexa’s leg lock and shifts until she’s straddling Lexa, the apex of her thighs left hovering wisely above Lexa’s person.
“Lexa,” Clarke murmurs from her new higher vantage point, “I want you so bad, babe.” Clarke catches the way Lexa’s gorgeous eyes widen at her words. The sight of Lexa underneath her, gazing up at her so lovingly and openly, like Lexa might be seeing angels, makes Clarke ache. “Fuck. You’re so beautiful it hurts. Why are you so beautiful? And you’re mine. All mine.” Clarke is rambling and she knows it, but she is also powerless to stop it. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she releases Lexa’s hands and grabs the hem of Lexa’s shirt, intent on revealing more of Lexa’s beauty. “Off,” Clarke mutters, “you’re overdressed.”
Lexa takes a few seconds to comprehend the request, for she is so enamoured with the sight of Clarke sat atop her. Lexa can still feel her cheeks burn from Clarke’s rambled compliments and she can’t help but think to herself that if Clarke really wanted to see beauty, she’d need only look at her reflection. Hazy brain finally understanding what Clarke had said, Lexa shifts and props herself up on her elbows so Clarke can pull her shirt over her head. Clarke’s hands find Lexa’s abs like they had by the fire. She traces them with her fingertips, feeling the muscles jump under her teasing scratches. Clarke lets her hands wander up, over Lexa’s small, pert tits, blissfully uncovered as Lexa didn’t bother to wear anything under her shirt today.
“No bra, babe? You know that makes me crazy,” Clarke husks, palming Lexa’s tits and rolling puckered nipples in between her fingers.
Lexa smirks and raises an eyebrow. “Happy birthday niron, I did that for you,” comes her whispered reply.
Lexa feels her skin burning under the intensity of Clarke's gaze. Blue eyes rake over her exposed upper body and Clarke bites seductively at her bottom lip as she shamelessly ogles Lexa. The Commander decides that it's only fair that she gets to enjoy the sight of her niron in the same way. Lexa sits up and reaches for the hem of Clarke’s shirt. She is momentarily distracted by the sight of Clarke’s lips so very close to hers now that she is sitting, and Lexa places a sweet kiss on Clarke’s mouth before pulling back with a smile that is filled with promise. Her hands move upwards, taking Clarke’s shirt up with them. Before she's pulled it more than a few centimeters however, strange music starts blaring at a deafening volume from outside the tent. Lexa’s hand freezes, caught off guard by the suddenness of the music, the panic at the noise receding as she realises that it is old-world music that the Skaikru play in their rover. She rolls her eyes.
“I think this is Raven’s idea of a joke,” Lexa states with a sigh, her hands dropping from Clarke’s shirt.
Clarke has to laugh at the pout on Lexa’s face. She feels her hips start to move just slightly to the sound of the music, the beat catching Clarke even though she hasn’t consciously recognised the music. With a frown of concentration, Clarke tilts her head, listening as the song really kicks in. It doesn’t take her long to place the song as “Let Me Blow Ya Mind”, a favorite of hers and Raven’s whenever they find themselves in the rover together. Clarke’s brow relaxes and she and breaks out into a huge grin as she remembers why she likes the song so much, how she’s always thought the tune perfect for a particular kind of dance.
“No, this is her idea of a gift,” Clarke corrects Lexa, “Lex, I need you to sit in the chair, hurry,” Clarke urges, scrambling off of Lexa and the bed, darting for the chair on the other side of the tent and pulling it to a clear spot in the center of the space.
Lexa follows Clarke off the bed and obediently sits in the offered chair, not knowing why she’s sitting, but following instructions all the same. “Clarke, why am I sitting?” Lexa questions, making herself comfortable on the seat.
“This a great song Lex, one of my favorites. It’s great for dancing to,” Clarke says, swaying her hips to the beat.
“Clarke, I can’t dance with you if I’m sitting! I don’t understand why this is so great--oh” Lexa is interrupted as Clarke turns and grinds her ass into Lexa’s lap. Lexa’s hands immediately find Clarke’s hips, pulling her closer for more contact, more friction.
“No touching Lex,” Clarke murmurs, removing Lexa’s hands from her waist and dropping them to her sides.
Clarke can’t see Lexa’s face, but she’s certain she’s pouting when Lexa mumbles, “That’s not fair, Clarke.”
Clarke stands upright and turns again, so she’s facing Lexa now. “It’ll be worth it babe, I promise,” Clarke says, straddling Lexa and sitting in her lap, never stopping the grinding of her hips.
Lexa hisses at the contact of Clarke on her lap, and her eyes go wide when Clarke reaches down to the hem of her shirt then pulls it off in one smooth motion. Lexa’s eyes fall right to Clarke’s breasts, so round, so full, so frustratingly covered by Clarke’s black bra, and Lexa under strict orders not to touch. Lexa doesn’t think it can get any worse. She’s wrong.
Clarke laces her fingers around the back of Lexa’s head and pulls her toward her tits, burying Lexa’s face in her cleavage. Even though she’s not supposed to, Lexa can’t help but plant hot, wet, open mouth kisses to the breasts under her lips. Clarke too seems to have forgotten about the no touching rule, as she doesn’t push Lexa’s head away. Clarke is soon whimpering and, in fact, pulling Lexa harder to her chest.
Clarke lets go of Lexa’s head and pushes her back against the chair by her shoulders. Clarke is smirking and she rights herself before reaching to undo the clasps of her bra, pushing the straps off her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Clarke resumes her grinding and undulating against Lexa, wrapping her arms around Lexa’s neck, pulling her closer, her breasts brushing against Lexa’s with each movement of Clarke’s hips.
Lexa, hypnotized by Clarke’s dancing and the sway of her breasts, finds her voice. “Clarke, you’re really good at this. I didn't know you could move your hips to move like that.”
Clarke lets out a laugh, and leans in to whisper into Lexa’s ear. “Oh babe, it’s about to get so much better,” comes Clarke’s reply, hot and wet against Lexa’s ear.
Before Lexa can respond, Clarke is on her feet again, in between Lexa’s legs. Clarke slips her shoes off, toes off her socks, grateful she’s not wearing boots, and kicks them across the tent. Clarke’s nimble fingers pop the button on her jeans and pull the zipper down ever so slowly. Clarke shimmies out of her trousers to the beat of the song, keeping eye contact with Lexa the whole time, or attempting to, but Lexa’s eyes quickly wander to creamy pale thighs and shapely calves before Lexa drags her gaze back up to Clarke’s face.
“Meizen,” Lexa manages to get out, her voice a cracked whisper now for she is so enraptured by the sight before her. Her throat feels tight and every nerve in her body is on fire, waiting, agonising over when she’ll finally be allowed to touch the skin her niron is revealing to her.
Clarke flashes Lexa a wide smile and hooks her thumbs in the waistband of her light grey knickers. Lexa’s eyes follow Clarke’s hands, and Lexa is not surprised at the wet spot on Clarke’s undies, knowing that hers are likely in a very similar state at the moment. Clarke’s hips never stop swaying and she spins, so her back is to Lexa again.
Clarke pulls her knickers down, ever so slowly, teasing Lexa with the briefest glimpse of her cute ass before pulling them back up, then, before Lexa has a chance to complain or whine, pulling them all the way down to her ankles, bending at the waist to do so, providing Lexa with a delicious view of her ass and dripping pussy folds, nestled in between thick thighs.
Lexa lets out a wanting moan and Clarke spins around again to face her. Clarke leans down to undo the button on Lexa’s pants, pulling down the zipper in one quick motion. Lexa lifts her hips automatically so Clarke can pull her trousers down around her ankles, then kicks them off along with her boots as soon as she is able. Clarke straddles Lexa’s thigh, grinding into her in time with the music. Clarke’s hands snake up her own body, over her soft tummy, between her breasts, up and up to sweep Clarke’s errant blonde curls back from her face in the most delicious, erotic display. Clarke is grinding all the while, her head thrown back, eyes shut and lips parted. Clarke slides her hands back down over her chest, pinching and pulling at her already puckered nipples, moaning at the sensation.
Lexa’s head spins as she watches Clarke playing with her own tits, her whole body seems to tremble with every moan that escaped Clarke’s lips. It’s abundantly clear that Clarke is starting to lose herself in her movements and Lexa finds herself compelled to help despite the rules Clarke has set. Lexa dares to press a hand between her own thigh and Clarke’s pussy. She doesn’t linger there, though she is tempted, instead she uses two fingers to part Clarke’s ample lips, so that when she pulls her hand away, Clarke’s hidden clit and the copious arousal collected between Clarke’s folds make contact with Lexa’s muscular thigh,
Lexa gasps when she feels Clarke’s wetness spread over her skin, and she can’t help but pull on Clarke’s hips, pulling her harder against her, urging Clarke’s thigh to meet her own hot, wet center.
Clarke finally makes a grab at Lexa’s hands, holding them in her own, “Lex, I said no touching. You aren’t listening very well, you know that don’t you?”
“I’m listening as well as I please, Clarke,” Lexa shoots back, her tone similar to one she would use to chastise an errant Ambassador. Clarke is the most errant of the lot, after all.
“Cheek,” Clarke hisses, “Do I have to punish you? Is that what you want? Do you want me to smack that pretty round ass?” Clarke questions, looking into Lexa’s eyes.
Lexa doesn’t answer back this time, she just weasels her hands out of Clarke’s and palms Clarke’s tits, raising an eyebrow in a dare.
Clarke shakes her head and jumps to her feet. “Breaking rules. On my birthday, too. You’re going to pay for that, babe,” she says, pulling Lexa to her feet and taking Lexa’s spot in the chair, thighs together and back straight. Clarke motions to her lap and says, “You know what to do, get in position.”
Lexa is unable to keep the satisfied smile off her face at getting her way as she drapes herself over Clarke’s lap, head down, palms on the floor, her ass thrust in the air within perfect striking distance of Clarke’s left hand.
Clarke runs her hand over Lexa’s ass, half covered by the lacy boy shorts Lexa loves to wear, but the generous swells of Lexa’s ass cheeks are not at all fully contained by the material. Clarke pulls her hand back and delivers one sharp blow to Lexa’s ass, watching the wobble of the muscle as her hand connects with it. She soothes the cheek with her palm a moment.
“I love your ass Lexa.” Another smack, harder than the first comes with those words, “I love the way it jiggles when I smack it, I like the noises you make when I eat it. Your ass is perfect, Lex,” Clarke brings her hand down again and again and again, each smack harder than the one before, until Lexa is moaning needily and squirming, her ass bearing Clarke’s hand print and her panties riding up exposing more of that glorious round muscle. Clarke is addicted to the sight and so she halts her spanking a moment, just to grab at the material of Lexa’s shorts and yank them up into the seam between Lexa’s cheeks so that the muscles are at last on full display. She hears Lexa moan at the feeling of rough lace scratching sensitive skin and gives another tug before quickly following up with one more smack, loud and hard.
“Jok, Clarke,” Lexa curses, the glorious mixture of pleasure and main making her delirious. The sting left on her ass by Clarke’s palm is wonderful and Lexa knows she’ll feel tender come the morning. She loves being claimed like this.
Clarke rubs gently at the handprint she’s left on Lexa’s ass, soothing the angry skin, and then lets her fingers dip in between toned thighs. Clarke smirks when she feels the damp spot on the front of Lexa’s shorts. She rakes her fingers over Lexa’s eager clit through the fabric, knowing that the scratch of the lace over the sensitive bud will drive Lexa wild.
Lexa moans at the friction on her clit, and swallows hard. “Sha, Clarke,” she croaks.
“You’re so wet Lex, just like me. Fuck, making you feel good gets me so turned on you know?”
Lexa feels her mouth begin to water as Clarke’s words immediately get her thinking about how hot and wet Clarke had felt whilst grinding on Lexa’s thigh. She can only imagine the state Clarke is in now, for Lexa knows that Clarke wasn’t lying when she said she loved giving Lexa what she wanted. Lexa lets out a growl, arching her back and peering over over shoulder at her niron. “Clarke, bed, beja. I need to taste you,” Lexa says, her eyes wide and pleading, dancing with lust.
“How can I say no to that babe?” comes Clarke’s cheeky reply, as she lets Lexa get to her feet.
Lexa throws Clarke over her shoulder again, and Clarke notices that the view is much better when the only thing Lexa is wearing are her barely there shorts and Clarke's handprint on her ass cheek. Lexa drops Clarke with a huff on the middle of the bed and Clarke lets out a giggle at Lexa’s eagerness.
Lexa climbs atop Clarke and kisses her soundly on the lips. It isn’t an eager kiss, but a grounding one, one that Lexa hopes lets Clarke know how much Lexa loves her. “Clarke, you are so beautiful and amazing,” Lexa says, pulling away from Clarke’s lips, “I’m so fortunate to be with you.”
Clarke, not wanting Lexa to get overly emotional, pulls Lexa back toward her face, “Lexa, shut up and kiss me more, don’t be mushy,” Clarke demands, humming when Lexa’s lips meet hers, when Lexa sucks on her top lip and moans into her mouth. Clarke’s hands find the waistband of Lexa’s shorts and she tugs, Lexa maneuvering her hips so Clarke can slide the material down.
Clarke tries to flip Lexa so she’s back on top, but Lexa plants her feet on the mattress and Clarke can’t budge her. “Lex,” Clarke whines, “come on, flip.”
Lexa laughs and shakes her head, “No Clarke, remember what I said? I need to taste you.” Clarke pouts as Lexa peppers kisses on her neck and across her collarbone. Of course she wants Lexa’s mouth on her, Lexa is so good with her tongue. But Clarke also wants her mouth on Lexa.
“Lexa, baby, I know you do,” Clarke murmurs, hands on Lexa’s cheeks. “But I want to taste you too, and, you know, it is my birthday,” Clarke pleads, complete with pouty lips and puppy dog eyes.
Lexa smirks as she considers Clarke’s plea. She’s made it to Clarke’s tummy now. “Yes, it is your birthday,” Lexa purrs against Clarke’s soft skin, tickling Clarke’s stomach, “but that doesn’t mean you automatically get what you want, niron. Besides, I have an idea.”
Clarke is about to protest, but then Lexa is crawling up her body, towards her head. Confident that she is going to get what she wants and that Lexa is going to sit on her face, Clarke settles back into the mattress, a smirk planted firmly on her face. That smirk falls when Lexa stops her upward journey and climbs off of Clarke so that she's simply kneeling to the side of her, thoroughly confusing Clarke. “Lexa, what you doing? Get back here you noodle,” Clarke whines, exasperated with Lexa’s behavior.
Lexa laughs at Clarke's impatience but does not bother to explain herself. Instead, she turns around and very carefully lowers herself down atop of Clarke, her ass near Clarke’s face and her face near Clarke’s pussy.
Clarke, finally catching on to Lexa’s plan, echoes Lexa’s laughter and pulls Lexa closer to her mouth. She pauses to admire the sight before her, Lexa’s gorgeous pussy in her face. Most of Lexa is hidden between soft outer lips, but Clarke can just see the shiny pink of Lexa’s neat inner lips, and above them, Lexa's proud clit is swollen and peeking out just slightly, begging for attention.
Wasting no more time, Clarke runs two fingers up the length of Lexa’s slit, gathering Lexa’s wetness and putting those same fingers in her mouth, finally getting a taste of her lover. Lexa shudders at the touch and whines when Clarke takes her fingers away.
“Lex, I like your plan,” Clarke huffs out, spreading Lexa open with her fingers, losing her train of thought when she feels Lexa’s fingers spreading her just the same.
Lexa is faster than Clarke, eager to get her tongue on Clarke’s delectable pussy. She runs her tongue firmly through Clarke’s generous folds while Clarke is still admiring Lexa’s wet, swollen, shiny pussy. Clarke gasps as Lexa’s pillowy lips suck eagerly at her folds, tasting as much of Clarke in one go as Lexa can manage. Then, Lexa burrows deeper and her mouth wraps around Clarke's hooded clit, Lexa’s tongue lapping hard and slow at the shy nub. Clarke bucks her hips unashamedly, grinding up into Lexa's mouth, encouraging Lexa to lap and suck even harder.
Clarke breathes through the electrifying pleasure of having Lexa's mouth on her and brings her own lips to Lexa’s pussy, immediately pushing her tongue inside Lexa's invitingly wet opening, drinking Lexa right from the source. Clarke fucks Lexa with her tongue, thrusting in as deep as she can, matching Lexa’s rhythm on her clit. Lexa's taste coats her tongue and makes Clarke's eyes roll to the back of her head. She groans in pleasure.
Lexa’s hips match the movement of Clarke’s tongue, Lexa rocking unabashedly against Clarke’s face. Her rocking makes it difficult to keep her own mouth’s pressure on Clarke constant enough and so Lexa releases Clarke's clit with a wet pop and changes tactic. Lexa easily slips two fingers into Clarke’s wet pussy, eyes widening at the sight of her fingers burying themselves so deep inside her niron. She revels in the hot tightness of Clarke and curls her fingers just right to hit Clarke’s front wall. Lexa begins to pump her fingers, hitting Clarke’s g-spot on each thrust.
Clarke squeezes her eyes shut as Lexa eases two fingers inside her and starts to fuck her. Those beautiful long fingers know exactly what to do and Clarke knows she won’t last long because Lexa is fucking her so good. She gasps when Lexa’s mouth returns to work against her clit.
Not wanting Lexa to fall behind, Clarke slides her tongue out of Lexa, replacing it with two fingers of her own, and takes Lexa’s clit into her mouth, sucking hard. She moans as Lexa thrusts into her, the vibrations running right through Lexa’s clit and earning Clarke a grateful hiss of pleasure from her lover.
Lexa is thrusting into Clarke with abandon now, dizzy from the slapping sound her fingers are making in Clarke’s pussy and from the remaining alcohol in her system. Lexa feels Clarke suck her clit harder, keeping pace with her, and Lexa pulls her mouth away from Clarke’s clit with a wet pop, quickly replacing her tongue with her thumb, suddenly feeling the need to tell Clarke how good she’s making her feel.
“Sha, Clarke. You feel so good inside me. Your fingers fill me up. Sha Clarke, fuck me.”
Clarke is surprised at Lexa’s words, not used to her lover being so chatty, but she doesn’t make her surprise known. Instead, emboldened by Lexa’s words, she does what Lexa has asked of her, and fucks her hard.
Lexa is louder now, much louder than she normally is, chanting Clarke’s name, curses falling from her lips seemingly in the place of breaths. Clarke, used to being the one providing the dirty talk, is enjoying this noisy Lexa immensely. Lexa manages to keep her pace, somehow finds the concentration to add a third finger inside Clarke, and Lexa can feel Clarke grow wetter as she pumps into her roughly, her fingers still curling expertly with every thrust.This only makes Clarke respond in kind and Lexa's coherent body trembles as Clarke buries her fingers all the way inside Lexa’s deliciously tight pussy and starts to massage Lexa’s g-spot with her fingertips, providing that constant and firm pressure that Clarke knows will drive Lexa wild. Lexa lets out a loud groan, and then barely coherent words are pouring from her lips.
“Sha, Clarke, jok,” Lexa chokes out, her voice breathy and an octave above normal. “Clarke, fuck, Clarke, jok, Clarke,” Lexa is a mess of curses and Clarke’s name, so close to tumbling over the edge, knowing that Clarke is too. In the few moments where Lexa is not speaking, her head drops towards Clarke's tummy and she peppers hot, messy kisses over the beautifully soft flesh around Clarke's navel.
Clarke sucks Lexa’s clit hard, humming into it, and Lexa is done for. Lexa tenses, but never stills her fingers inside of Clarke, still enamoured by the obscene slapping noises her fingers are making. Clarke is close, and it's Lexa’s needy cry of “Sha, Clarke, shaaaa,” as she climaxes that does her in.
Clarke falls over the edge barely a second after Lexa, her pussy clenching and trapping Lexa’s fingers, a whimpered “Lex,” falling from her lips as she burrows her head back into the pillow, succumbing to pleasure. The two of them shake through their orgasms in unison, both of them reaching out with their free hands to find each other. Clarke and Lexa ride out the last, blissful waves of their orgasms with hands clasped tightly together, the contact sweet and safe and grounding as their movements still.
Clarke feels like she's become one with the mattress and her eyes droop shut the moment she gently pulls her fingers from Lexa's pussy. Lexa is less eager to leave Clarke's warmth and she keeps her fingers buried a while as she flops her weight down onto Clarke, confident that her lithe frame will do no damage. Lexa nuzzles into the softness of Clarke's thighs.
Lexa regains her faculties before Clarke, and pulls her fingers out of Clarke's opening before picking her head up to clean up Clarke’s soaked folds with her tongue. She continues, slow and gentle, until Clarke stops her by squeezing her thighs together, too sensitive for Lexa to continue. Lexa rolls off Clarke and rearranges herself so she’s facing the same way on the bed as Clarke, pulling Clarke into her arms and kissing her forehead. Clarke’s breathing is still fast and uneven, and Lexa is content to hold her until she catches her breath. Occasionally, she feels Clarke's body shiver with the lingering effects of her climax.
When Clarke’s breathing eases, Lexa squeezes her closer and says, “Are you alright, niron?”
Clarke laughs and nods, “I’m great Lex,” Clarke pulls away from Lexa’s chest to look her in the eye, “When did you get so chatty my love?”
Lexa frowns, “Did you not like it? I thought you might enjoy--”
“Lexa, stop,” Clarke interrupts, “I loved it. It was a wonderful surprise. Thank you.”
Lexa gives Clarke a lopsided smile, “I’m glad you liked it. It was part of your birthday present.”
Clarke kisses that lopsided smile off of Lexa’s smug face, “It was a wonderful present, thank you. Wait, part of, there’s more?”
Lexa chuckles, “Of course there’s more, niron. It’s your birthday.”
Clarke snuggles into Lexa, content, and says “Well, I’m too tired for round two Lex, you’ll have to wait.”
Lexa snorts, “Then sleep a while, the night is young. Your cake can wait.”
Clarke sits up like a shot at that, “Lexa? There’s cake? Get dressed, we’re having cake.”
“Clarke, the cake is outside with our friends. They’ll know what we’ve been up to. It’s obvious. Your hair's a mess, niron,” Lexa tries, wanting Clarke to stay in bed for more cuddles.
“Lexa, they already know. You made more noise than Raven’s music. Besides, if you feed me, I won’t have to nap and we can get back to it,” Clarke says with a wink.
At Clarke’s words Lexa is off the bed in an instant, pulling on clothes haphazardly. “Well, get dressed Clarke, we’re going to have cake,” Lexa says when she notices Clarke hasn’t moved.
“Lex, babe, I can’t,” Clarke replies, eyes twinkling with mirth.
“What? Why? This was your idea,” comes Lexa’s frustrated reply as she pulls up pants around her hips and goes to button them. They feel strangely loose and barely graze her ankles.
“Because, you’re wearing my pants,” Clarke snorts, “I can’t wear yours, I’ll trip. If I can even get them past my calves.” Clarke laughs even harder when Lexa pulls the pants off with a huff before bundling them up and throwing them at her head. “Look at you babe, so eager for cake,” Clarke hums, pulling on her pants now that Lexa is out of them.
Lexa gives Clarke her best Heda stare, “You know it's not cake that I really want. Now hurry up. We have a birthday to finish celebrating,” Lexa says seriously, as though nothing else matters.
It takes Clarke another five minutes to find the shoes she had uncaringly kicked away earlier, but then the couple rejoin their friends and cake is had.
Ten minutes after cake is had, the pair make their second untimely retreat of the night and Clarke is had again, and again, and again.