dreamsaremywords: I don’t do fake love (but I’ll take some from you tonight) It was
dreamsaremywords: I don’t do fake love (but I’ll take some from you tonight) It wasn’t supposed to be like this.Clarke moans, splayed fingers and sweaty palms sliding with condensation on the floor to ceiling windows she’s pressed against. The sensation of the cold glass against her stiff nipples and the warmth of the body behind her has her shuddering, moans caught in her throat. Lexa’s teeth dig into her shoulders and the thick head of her strap bumps up against Clarke’s front wall and Clarke’s breath sobs out of her, head spinning with how unfair it is, how good this feels. How good it always feels.This was never supposed to happen.“Say my name when you come,” Lexa whispers, lips brushing the shell of Clarke’s ear. She noses at the back of her neck, nuzzling against the sweat-damp curls pressed there. She licks her way up to whisper again. “I want to hear you.”“Make me,” Clarke pants, the breath caught in her throat and twisting into a low groan when Lexa grips her hips and pulls her back, pushing deeper inside her, filling her up.“You know I will.” Lexa’s fingertips dig into her skin, and the idea of her leaving bruises gives Clarke far more satisfaction than it should. She wants them, wants this proof scattered all over her skin.She wants every reminder of Lexa to endure so that later, hours later after she finally drags herself out of Lexa’s bed and returns to the apartment she shares with her boyfriend, they’ll still linger like a ghost, a phantasm that floats around her and leaves her drenched in its warmth.“Fuck, Lex,” Clarke groans again, knees trembling beneath her, stomach tightening as everything in her seems to rise, clenching. “Fuck. Baby, I'm—”“I know. Come for me, Clarke.”This was never supposed to happen, this was wrong, but God, it felt so—“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Lexa, I'm— I’m coming—”It felt so fucking right.Read more on ao3 -- source link
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