A/N: This is all on Kay. All. On. Kay. She asked me to write a smutty story in response to AK-51 (personally, one of my favorite episodes), and to Gemma and rosary beads, and this is what came out. Probably one of the dirtiest things I have ever written- and also the final nail in my coffin to Hell.
Disclaimer: I own only some of the ideas; otherwise nothing else is mine.
Clay Morrow was a happy man. He was on his bike, he had his wife with him, and it was looking like he was going to get laid. Gemma's hand was around his waist, fingers slipping up underneath his black t-shirt to run her nails along his stomach muscles teasingly. He shuddered slightly at her touch, struggling to focus on the road and not get them killed.
He sped up, making it back home in record time. Getting off the bike after Gemma, he pulled her closer to kiss, not even caring that he still had his helmet on. She tasted like cigarettes and smoke, and he groaned against her mouth.
"You sound frustrated baby," Gemma said, pulling back from the kiss and smirking, her dark eyes glinting. "Should I call Cherry, have her come and help you out?"
"I got all the help I want right here," Clary replied, tugging her impossibly closer and hearing her breath catch in her throat.
"Inside," Gemma said, voice gone husky and making her sound incredibly sexy. "Now."
He smacked her ass as she walked past him, leaving him to secure the helmets to the bike and watch her as she sauntered into the house, shooting him a sultry look from the doorway. He groaned under his breath, taking quick steps into the house and locking the door behind him, hearing the satisfying click before making his way to the bedroom, where Gemma was in the middle of losing her jacket.
"Don't finish my favorite part without me," Clay said in a low voice, shutting the bedroom door behind him. His wife turned to look at him, dropping the jacket to the floor. "You know I love to unwrap you."
"Whatcha waitin' for then?" Gemma asked, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue. Clay growled low in his throat, stalking towards her and pulling her into a rough kiss. Her hands gripped his shoulders, tugging him closer as his hands slid underneath her tank top, reveling in her warm skin.
Gemma's hands shoved his jacket off, letting the leather pool on the floor.
"Take your coat off," she said, eyes gleaming in the lighting of the room. "Stay awhile."
Clay pushed Gemma onto the bed, holding himself over her and kissing her heatedly. She responded in kind, her hands running over his body, pressing him closer to her.
He easily pulled her shirt off, leaving Gemma in only a tight, black lace bra that showed off both her impressive rack and her scar. Clay kissed down her throat to her breasts, taking special care over her scar like always. Gemma's breath caught in her throat again, a moan leaving her lips as she began to pant.
Her hands scrambled along his back, looking for the hem of his shirt. When she found it she wrenched the fabric over his head, revealing his toned upper body and muscular shoulders to her wandering fingers. Her hands moved down his chest, tangling momentarily in the hair for a moment before reaching his belt buckle, struggling to undo it for a moment.
Clay pushed himself off of her, standing up and undoing his belt and jeans, letting them fall to the floor with a soft thud. Gemma's eyes studied his body even though she knew it well already. His eyes caught sight of the rosary beads on the dresser, and he smirked, an idea forming in his head.
Snagging the beads, he rejoined Gemma in the bed, kissing her belly button as he unbuttoned her jeans and lowered the zipper, sliding the denim down her legs, leaving kisses on her skin along the way. She was left in a pair of black lace panties, matching her bra. Clay's fingers easily disposed of the scrap of lace, leaving her bared for him to look at, which he did so hungrily.
"What're the beads for baby?" Gemma asked, propping her head up on her hands. Clay grinned up at her, slipping the beads over his head as he pressed kisses to the inside of her knees.
"Forgive me baby for I have sinned," he said, causing her eyebrows to raise, her eyes turning questioning. "I gotta repent."
"Oh, do you now?" she asked, laughter gleaming in her dark eyes now, her lips curling upward into smirk. "Say a 'Glory Be' and all is forgiven baby."
Clay's head dipped down to her skin again, moving along her thighs, the cross of the rosary trailing along her legs, the metal cool against her hot skin. Gemma tilted her head back, pressing it against the pillows as his lips moved higher and higher, the cool temperature of the cross contrasting sharply with the heat of his lips.
"Glory be to the Father," Clay said in a low voice, hot breath hitting her in all the right places and making her squirm, her breathing catching her throat as her heart race increased. "And to the Son," at those words he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, his teeth nipping her slightly and making her exhale sharply. "And to the Holy Spirit."
Gemma was dying slowly, her heart hammering against her ribs as Clay's mouth moved closer and closer to where she wanted it. She was wet, and she felt a surge of relief at knowing that this encounter was going to be remarkably different than yesterday morning.
"As it was in the beginning, is now," Clay whispered against her skin, kissing up her thigh and over to her hip bone, leaving her aching, causing a moan to leave her throat. "And ever shall be," now his mouth was now kissing a path back down her hips, over her stomach muscles that were quivering under his lips, "World without end. Amen."
The last word was said against Gemma's sex, causing her to arch into his mouth, his name leaving her lips as her hand fisted into his hair. His tongue was hot against her, and Gemma closed her eyes tightly, throwing her head back against the pillows, pressing her lips together to stop from crying out.
Her heart was hammering against her chest, thudding against her ribs as she desperately tried to re-grasp her control, but the things Clay was doing to her were driving her crazy. She gasped, stomach tightening as he turned his focus to her clit. She shuddered, digging her nails into Clay's scalp as she bit her lip even harder, practically drawing blood.
He kissed his way back up to her lips, nibbling on the side of her neck and giving her a small hickey before reaching her lips. She weakly raised a hand to smack his arm, but she was so drained she could barely do more than tap him. She turned her head to kiss him, shivering at the taste of herself on his tongue.
"Am I forgiven baby?" Clay asked, panting slightly as he pulled back from the kiss, pushing a few locks of sweaty hair off of Gemma's forehead. She rolled her eyes, leaning up to kiss him again.
"A couple repeats of the Lord's Prayer wouldn't do any harm," she replied, her voice breathless as she smirked, watching his eyes widen slightly before he grinned. He leaned down and kissed her again, feeling her smile against his lips.
"Yes ma'am," he said, reaching one hand up to her cheek, pressing his forehead to hers. "Love you, Gem."
"I know baby," Gemma said, touching his hand. "I love you too."
Clay turned on his side, pulling his wife to his side and pulling the covers over her, running his hands over her warm skin. Gemma kissed his chest, eyes closing as she relaxed. Clay thought she'd fallen asleep, but then she spoke again with quiet words, making him laugh into the silence of the room.
"You know I'm never gonna be able to hear the Glory Be prayer the same way ever again, right?"
