AN: This story is for decaheda. She asked for a power struggle between Clarke and Lexa, along with a generous helping of Lexa's dick. Lexa kind of ends up on top in the end, but that's exactly the way Clarke wants it. ;D Warning for some feels near the end.
Just as a warning: this story involves Lexa with a cock. Whether that interpretation is trans!Lexa (which I'm all for) or more along the lines of omegaverse/G!P Lexa is up to you.
Please follow me [a]raedmagdon on tumblr, and my coauthor [a]ohhedamyheda. We write a lot of fic together.
Also, we're taking suggestions for Part 2! Please feel free to leave suggestions in the reviews.
. . .
Surrender
with N1ghtWr1ter
. . .
Lexa runs her tongue over her lower lip, trying to ease some of the dryness in her mouth. The day is only a little hot, but watching Clarke train with the Nightbloods has sent every drop of moisture in her body elsewhere. It isn't that the Sky girl is particularly good with a sword. Her movements are precise, but slow and obvious, and her sparring partner is able to block every one. Still, the way Clarke holds herself is strangely captivating. The strokes of her arms are graceful, and the turns of her feet fluid.
The fact that Clarke has chosen to remove her jacket isn't doing Lexa any favors. With her hair pulled back in braids and piled on top of her head, the graceful line of Clarke's neck and shoulders is exposed, along with a considerable amount of cleavage. It's there that Lexa's gaze keeps getting stuck, especially since the tops of Clarke's breasts are already shimmering with a fine coat of sweat. The mere sight makes her mouth ache for want of salt, and she catches herself swallowing down a groan.
It takes considerable effort to tear her eyes away, and even then, she isn't entirely successful. No matter how hard she tries to watch her other students, her gaze always wanders back to Clarke. A sticky pool of her own sweat gathers at the base of her spine, causing her shirt to cling there, and each time Clarke lets out a low grunt of exertion, Lexa finds it more and more difficult to breathe. Her heart is pounding somewhere in her throat, and also between her legs, heavy and insistent.
Soon, she can stand it no longer. She isn't in any position to teach like this, and even Heda cannot remain stoic and impassive forever in the face of such temptation. As strong and detached as she likes to think she is, Clarke knows every one of her weaknesses. Clarke is every one of her weaknesses. She has long since given up trying to deny it. "Em pleni," she shouts, raising her voice to be heard over the clash of blades. "Miya, Natblida. Yo ste odon gon sintaim."
At her command, her students lower their weapons, turning to her for further instructions. She gives them a slight smile of approval, and though the young Nightbloods duck their heads in short bows, she catches several of them smiling in return. "Well done. You have all worked hard..." Once more, her gaze slides over to Clarke. Unlike the others, she hasn't bowed, and her blue eyes are sparkling with a light Lexa recognizes. Apparently, Clarke is well aware of the fact that she has been closely observed. "Go clean your weapons and prepare yourselves for the evening meal. You are dismissed."
One by one, the children file out of the clearing, Aden last of all. Lexa catches his eye before she leaves. "Thank you for working with Klark today," she says before he can slip out with the others. "Learning to teach is the next step after a student has mastered his art."
A big grin spreads across Aden's face, and his eyes twinkle in a look almost as mischievous as Clarke's. "I think Klark kom Skaikru would have preferred to train with you, Heda, but I'm happy to help. She is improving."
"As are you," Lexa said. "Go and join the others. Hos op."
Aden trots off after his fellow Nightbloods, but Lexa doesn't watch him leave. Instead, she returns her attention to Clarke, who is waiting almost expectantly behind her. "I'm improving, huh?" she says, sliding her sword into its scabbard and setting it aside. Lexa can't help but notice that she's swaying her hips more than necessary. "Good to hear. Aden's not wrong, though. Training with you is more fun."
Lexa snorts, hoping she doesn't look as desperate as she feels. Without her students as a buffer, Clarke has become even more of a distraction. Simply standing in close proximity to her lover has left her skin tingling, and her clothes feel strangely constricting, especially the front of her pants. "The kind of 'training' we do is hardly appropriate in front of the Natblida."
Clarke begins to stalk closer, her gait nothing short of predatory. "It's a good thing they're not here anymore, huh?"
Lexa darts a swift glance around the training ground to make sure it is deserted, then closes the remaining distance between them. "A good thing indeed," she murmurs, before her hands are on Clarke's hips and her mouth is on the Sky girl's, eager and devouring. She'd felt her cock stir all afternoon as she watched Clarke train, jealous of the beads of sweat trickling into Clarke's clothing, but now it's growing harder by the second. She presses her body flush against her lover's, making certain that Clarke can feel what she's doing to her. Her reward is a gasp against her lips, and she pulls back to give Clarke a toothy smirk.
It disappears into a groan when Clarke leans forward and seizes her bottom lip. The Sky girl's hips grind deliberately into hers, exerting deliciously torturous pressure against the place she wants it most. All of a sudden, the pleasurable throbbing between her legs becomes something else entirely, her shaft swelling and thickening. She pulls back for a second time, panting, her grin gone. "Jok," she hisses between clenched teeth. "All right, enough. We'll go back to the tower, I'll make some excuse to Titus, and then we can have a late supper after—"
For a moment, a look of worry flashes across Clarke's face, an unusual expression that leaves Lexa concerned. However, it quickly disappears, melting into a seductive pout. "No," Clarke says. Lexa's gaze zeroes in on her lower lip, and it's a struggle to keep from leaning closer to sink her teeth into it. The only thing that stops her is Clarke's next phrase: "I need you now."
Lexa blinks, not quite certain she's heard properly. There is something hidden beneath the thick coat of desire in Clarke's voice, and she can't quite tease it out. "Now? What do you mean?"
"Here," Clarke insists. "I don't want to wait. There's nobody here, and nobody should be coming…except us, of course."
Lexa's jaw drops, and her eyes frantically search the training ground. She's not certain what she's looking for— people who might have overheard them, someone coming to find them and rescue her from Clarke's clutches—but as before, the area is deserted. Desperately, she attempts to draw herself up, clutching at the ragged threads of her decorum in an attempt to dissuade her lover from this truly terrible idea. "Clarke, we can't. It's entirely open here. If someone comes looking for us, or wants a late training session, anyone might see—"
"Not if we're fast," Clarke purrs, but her eyes carry an edge of silent desperation. "And quiet. I don't know what the word is for it in Trigedasleng, but where I'm from we call it a quickie." She arches an goading eyebrow, her tone mocking. "I'm sure the big bad Commander isn't afraid of a little cultural convergence, right?"
Lexa barely lets her finish her sentence before she's reaching out and drawing Clarke close again, swallowing her delighted gasp with a low growl of her own. Clarke's got a truly impressive ability to turn her on, to draw out the animal inside of her and make her want to do things that Heda shouldn't even consider doing…and yet here she is, struggling against the urge to take her lover on a grassy knoll in the late afternoon sunlight, where all of Polis might see.
The thought sends a spike of panic to her brain and a pulse of arousal straight to her gut. She pulls away one more time, drawing in great gulps of air. "Clarke, we shouldn't. Titus is expecting us and he might send someone to find…us…"
Her words of caution dry up in her throat when Clarke drops to her knees. "Isn't there anything I can do to convince you to forget about Titus for one afternoon?"
Lexa is utterly lost. All she can do is let out a low groan as Clarke's fingers make short work of her fly. Titus who? Her mind has gone completely blank, and she can't even summon words. All that comes out is a soft moan as Clarke unfastens her pants. She starts to say no, to insist that Clarke stop what she's doing, but she can't manage. Something about Clarke's expression is off, frantic in a way that has nothing to do with desire. The pieces click together in her head. Some part of Clarke needs this for reasons beyond sex, and she knows she can't stop until she discovers what those reasons are.
It doesn't take much work for Clarke to ease her out of her open fly. She was straining against it to begin with, and at the first squeeze of Clarke's palm, her shaft gives a needy pulse of approval. Her mind might realize that indulging out in the open is a terrible idea, and she is still worried about Clarke's strange behavior, but her body clearly hasn't gotten the message.
Clarke, however, has no such reservations. The tip of her soft pink tongue peeks out to run over her lips as she admires her prize, and Lexa swallows at the promise in the gesture. "I think you want to do this more than you'll admit," Clarke murmurs. Her fingers curl a little tighter, a teasing squeeze, and Lexa fights to keep her hips still. She hasn't quite had the courage to look down at her cock, but she knows her desire must be obvious from the way she's throbbing in Clarke's fist.
At last, she finds her voice—but not the willpower to remove Clarke's hand. "What I want to do and what I should do are two different things," she rasps, staring down into Clarke's eyes. They're filled with burning need, a desperate, almost frightening fire, and some part of her already knows who will win in this struggle of wills.
"That isn't a no." Clarke begins to play with her, pumping from base to tip, and Lexa gives in. She can't pretend this isn't happening forever, especially since every time the top of Clarke's fist draws close to the head of her cock, wetness starts to well from her aching tip. Soon, she's dripping all over Clarke's fingers, making each stroke slippery. Clarke notices, because she makes a pleased purr in the back of her throat. "Seriously, Lexa. If you want me to stop, just say the word..."
Again, something in Clarke's tone urges her to say yes. It speaks of deep needs beyond the physical, and Lexa tries ask what has driven her to this, but Clarke's thumb swipes over her sensitive slit at precisely the wrong moment, spreading her slickness around. A cry comes out instead, and she's much too late to stifle it. She can only choke around the tail end of her groan as her face burns in embarrassment.
"But I don't think you want me to stop." Clarke leans forward, still gazing up with a taunting look, and Lexa can feel the hot wash of her breath. It coaxes her to further hardness, and a shudder races down her spine, only stopping at the pool of heat deep in her belly. "Maybe Heda thinks she's too dignified to have sex in the dirt, but Lexa..." The very tip of Clarke's tongue flicks out to taste her, and both of Lexa's hands shoot out to grasp her golden hair. She simply can't keep them at her sides any longer. But all too soon the torturous tongue is gone, and she's left with only the memory of its warmth. "Lexa really wants to do this."
She does. Every fiber of her being is crying out for Clarke's touch, and Heda's legendary control has completely deserted her. She has devolved into a being of pure need, and she knows what her answer will be before she can even form it. While Clarke waits for her agreement, she gathers the last of her willpower. If they are going to do this, she is going to make sure Clarke gets exactly what she's asking for. Whatever is bothering her lover underneath this display of passion, she wants to get to the bottom of it.
"Klark," she growls, in a voice she knows will make her lover feel nearly as desperate as she already is. "Yu lan teisa op. We have to be quick."
She has a very brief moment to savor the sight of Clarke squirming on her heels, clearly affected by the rough need in her voice, before she's engulfed in the wet heat of her lover's mouth. It only takes a few seconds of Clarke sucking teasingly on the head of her cock before she's struggling to keep from pumping her hips forward. Clarke's tongue teases her dripping slit and she loses that fight, just once—but it's enough to push a few more inches of her shaft into her lover's torturous mouth.
A long, drawn-out groan unfurls from her throat as Clarke slowly lets her cock slide out with a slick pop. Lexa nearly moans at the loss of tantalizing warmth and suction, but then Clarke murmurs, "I guess quick isn't something we have to worry about, huh?"
Lexa gives her a dark look and holds back her noises of pleasure, unwilling to let Clarke know just how effective her teasing is, but the smirk the Sky girl gives her just before she bends her head suggests that she knows exactly what she's doing. And then Clarke's mouth is sliding down her shaft again, sending harsh bursts of pleasure straight up her spine with every downstroke and dragging torturously against all of Lexa's most sensitive places on her way back up. Clarke always takes a moment to suckle the tip, tongue eagerly lapping at her slit for the beads of precome that are spilling forth with increasing speed. It's the slowest, most exquisite form of torture Lexa has ever experienced. She's fairly certain Clarke is going to kill her, but it's a death she will welcome gladly.
Still, she's unable to ignore the passage of time. The sun is lowering over the hills beyond Polis, and every moment more that they spend out here increases the likelihood that their presence will be missed. "Clarke," Lexa groans, exerting the tiniest bit of pressure on the back of the Sky girl's head in the hopes that it will convey her message. To her mixed fury and arousal, however, Clarke just raises her head again, her hand taking up the work her mouth has abandoned, stroking slowly and firmly.
"Yes, Commander?" she says, and Lexa feels a growl rumble through her chest. She narrows her eyes again, struggling to concentrate through the haze of lust and furious need clouding her brain. Clarke's deliberately playing dumb, pretending she doesn't understand what Lexa's asking. That usually means that the Sky girl wants something in return, but of course Clarke won't just tell her what it is. She'll have to figure it out on her own.
At her lack of response, Clarke lowers her head again and resumes sucking, lashing the sensitive spot under the head of her cock with agonizing flicks. Lexa can't hold in a strangled grunt, and she sees Clarke's eyes brighten with delight. Lexa growls at her again, and is rewarded with another squirm, the slight vibrations of Clarke's answering moan, and a stroke that takes her all the way to the back of Clarke's throat. The sight of herself embedded so deeply is nearly too much, and she throws her head back, yelling silently to keep from bursting. When she's regained a modicum of control over herself, she has her answer to what Clarke wants.
The way she'd reacted when Lexa's hands slipped into her hair, when she'd thrust forward inadvertently, every time she's growled… And, of course, the way Clarke had said her title when asking Lexa what she wanted, instead of her name. She adores the way her lover says her name, her beautiful lips wrapping around its two syllables in much the same way that Clarke's clothes hug her curves, and she never tires of hearing it spilling from the Sky girl's lips. But the times that she uses Heda, or Commander…
Clarke wants her to take control. In fact, Clarke is probably hoping to be 'punished' for this infraction, for tempting her into such a risky position. Lexa spends most of her days ordering other people around, and keeping such tight control over her subjects can grow wearisome. But when Clarke asks... she feels a burst of energy, as well as a surge of arousal from the simmering pool in her lower belly. She supposes it's only fair that Wanheda is allowed to lay down her burdens once in awhile. Perhaps something has driven Clarke to this—a worry or some sadness she doesn't yet feel ready to express with words. There are times when it is difficult for Clarke to express her emotions, and she often uses rough sex as a simple way to pick that lock.
For a moment, love and affection make Lexa forget her arousal. She cups Clarke's cheek, smiling down in understanding. They share a silent look, communicating without words, and Lexa knows her message has been imparted: I understand. It's all right for you to need this. I'll help you. Then, she hardens her expression, putting on the mask she knows Clarke requires in order to surrender. "Hod op."
Clarke freezes, although she doesn't withdraw. Her lips remain sealed half way down Lexa's shaft, and she makes no effort to remove the rest from her mouth.
"I've had enough of that wicked tongue of yours," Lexa says, in a tone that she hopes will be stern enough for Clarke's liking. "Lower your leggings and get on the ground."
To her surprise, Clarke obeys with unusual eagerness. The speed with which she pulls back and shoves her leggings and smallclothes down to her thighs is impressive. She must have been planning this, Lexa realizes, a suspicion further confirmed by the look of urgency on Clarke's face. Her cheeks are rosy with an exhilarated blush, and she's already trembling. But Lexa is soon distracted by something else: the beautiful flesh Clarke is displaying for her.
She hasn't ordered Clarke to spread her legs yet, but she's veryglad her lover decided to do so anyway. The neat, trimmed triangle of golden curls at the 'v' of Clarke's thighs does little to conceal the swollen, glistening pink lips beneath, and the red bud of her clit is nearly popping out from beneath its hood. Lexa feels the sudden urge to drop to the grass as well and drape Clarke's knees over her shoulders so she can suck it into her mouth and roll her tongue over it, but she knows that would ruin the moment. Perhaps later, once Clarke's need for Heda is satisfied and she has helped her lover purge whatever demons she is carrying, she can indulge herself that way.
"Lexa?"
Lexa blinks. Clarke's gleaming chest is heaving with shallow breaths, and the stiff peaks of her nipples are peeking through the thin material of her undershirt. She is practically squirming with impatience, and Lexa stifles a smile of pride. She has to admit, it does flatter her ego to think that Clarke is as desperate for her as she is for Clarke. It makes her feel a little better about her earlier staring during the training session.
"Shof yu op," she says in a clipped tone, trying not to let her amusement show through. With all the effort she's put in, and as long as she's dragged this out despite the persistent ache in her cock, she doesn't want to ruin things now. "Hands and knees. Now."
Clarke flips into the requested position, although not without another whimper of dissatisfaction at the pace. Once more, Lexa allows herself an admiring glance. The swell of Clarke's ass is a beautiful sight, one she will never tire of looking at. But soon, the urge to touch overwhelms her—as well as the realization that they have to be fast. Thanks to Clarke's charms, she has almost completely forgotten how exposed they are in this clearing. She drops to her knees, pulling her pants further down to avoid staining them. With Clarke, it's a distinct possibility.
"Lexa," Clarke whines again, shifting her hips back in search of sensation. Lexa rewards her impatience with a slap to the ass—more noise than force, but it has the intended effect. When Clarke had first informed Lexa of her desire, the Commander had blushed deeply at the thought of spanking her lover, but when she'd finally bucked up the courage to do it, the reward had been very much worth it. She doesn't do it as often as she thinks Clarke would probably like, but she can't deny how much she enjoys the way Clarke responds to a little rough treatment. Like right now: Clarke moans loudly, lifting her hips higher and spreading her legs wider so that Lexa can get an even better look at the delicious treasure in between.
She can't resist the urge to run her fingers through Clarke's dripping folds. Her Sky girl is wet and so, so ready, and her hand is drenched almost immediately. She plays with Clarke's clit for a few moments, rubbing it between her fingers and rolling gently over the hard tip, enjoying the way her lover moans and quakes. When she drags her fingers down the length of Clarke's slit and toys with her entrance, she's amused to see the Sky girl attempting to surreptitiously shift backwards to take her inside.
Lexa delivers another sharp smack to Clarke's other cheek this time, and withdraws her hand before taking a firm hold on Clarke's hip. "If you can't be patient, this isn't happening at all," she hisses, bending low over Clarke's back so she can deliver the words directly into her ear. "We'll get dressed and go to dinner and you'll have to sit through the whole thing, dripping and swollen and unable to think of anything except what you're missing."
It's ridiculous, of course. As she strokes herself with the hand that's still soaked in Clarke's juices, the pressure pounding along her length informs her that there's no way she's getting back into her pants. Not without an orgasm, at least. But Clarke doesn't need to know that.
"No!" Clarke gasps, writhing even harder in her grasp, and Lexa suppresses a shudder.
"Hold still," she orders, and after a final round of squirming, Clarke does. Knowing that she's not going to make it through another of the Sky girl's attempts to up the pace, Lexa lines up the tip of her cock with Clarke's entrance and pushes inside, filling her lover with one long stroke. Clarke moans louder with each inch that slips inside of her, and arches her back to take Lexa even deeper. The silky heat and pressure of Clarke's inner walls, the sensation as they relax to take her in, the way they cling to her and attempt to draw her further, has Lexa's head spinning within seconds. By the time she's hilted all the way inside, her groan mingles with Clarke's.
"God, Lexa, so full," Clarke moans, rocking back against her hips and making Lexa have to strangle a whine. "You feel so good…"
"Wait until I'm fucking you," Lexa promises, and is instantly glad that Clarke can't see her grin: it's the first time she's managed to say the Skaikru expletive without stuttering. She's not sure what it is about the word, but it just sounds so much filthier than its equivalent in her own language. Her grin drops almost instantly, however, when Clarke ripples around her, clearly excited by Lexa's harsh speech. She has to dig her fingers even harder into Clarke's hips in order to avoid spilling herself instantly like a nervous teenager.
Luckily, Clarke is lost even further in pleasure. Her hips stir despite the clear instructions to remain still, and Lexa doesn't have the heart to punish her for it. Besides, it feels so good every time Clarke's rear rocks back into her pelvis—much too good for her to demand that the Sky girl stop. Instead, she folds her hand around Clarke's generous hips, finding a firm grip and pumping her own hips forward. At the very least, she can make her lover yield to her rhythm.
Before long, she's pumping into Clarke at a pace that has them both gasping. Pulling out from the clinging silk of Clarke's inner walls is torture, but pushing back in is blissful enough to make the loss worthwhile. She hisses through gritted teeth, and only the reason she manages to stifle her cries is because of where they are. Despite how wonderful it is to sink in and out of Clarke's smooth heat, she can't forget that they're in the middle of a clearing, where someone could come upon them at any moment...
That gives her an idea. She is already certain that Clarke had other reasons for seducing her out in the open besides mere desire. She did this on purpose, Lexa thinks, bending further over Clarke's back to get more leverage. She's rewarded with a low, sweet cry and a further arching of Clarke's graceful spine. Surely she had this planned all along. She probably even removed her jacket to make sure she caught my interest during the training session. Does she actually want to get caught? Or is the idea of someone discovering her in this position enough?
Either way, she is determined to find out. "You couldn't wait until we went back to the tower, could you?" she mutters, placing a wet kiss at the juncture of Clarke's shoulder to punctuate the question. "You wanted me to take you here, right in the middle of the training grounds where anyone could see you." Clarke squirms and pants beneath her, and the tight muscles around her give a needy flutter, a clear sign that she's on the right track. It fuels her newfound boldness, and she pushes the boundary a little further. "Is that what you're hoping for? For someone to come along and see you on your hands and knees before Heda, taking every inch of me?"
That suggestion earns her a loud wail. Clarke is almost thrashing beneath her, pushing back into each thrust with raw urgency. She hasn't come yet, but she's dripping with hot trails of wetness, and her body is shuddering from head to toe. Lexa can't help but feel a surge of pride. This isn't precisely her fantasy, but seeing Clarke come undone absolutely is, and she is more than happy to play the part.
"Tel ai op, gafa," she growls into the shell of Clarke's ear, trapping the lobe between her teeth for a swift tug. It's a useful distraction from the heavy pressure that pounds along the length of her shaft each time she sinks all the way in. It aches terribly, but she knows she has to ignore the fullness until Clarke comes. It's simply a matter of pride. "I want to hear you admit it. Tell me I'm right."
Clarke almost howls at the words. Her head hangs forward, sending her wavy golden hair spilling everywhere, and she heaves through several breaths before she manages to speak. "You... you're right," she whimpers, her words almost a sob. "I wanted this. Wanted you to take me here... where someone might..."
Lexa stifles a groan as Clarke ripples heavily around her length. It takes her a moment to recover her rhythm, but when she does she pounds into Clarke with a particularly brutal thrust that makes the Sky girl cry out. "You wanted them to see that I can have you wherever I want, use you however I please," she whispers in Clarke's ear, rough and low. Clarke doesn't answer, only shivers, and for one dizzying moment Lexa is terrified that she has overstepped her bounds, misread what her lover desires. But then Clarke whines and clamps down even harder around her shaft. Lexa knows that sound: it's the sound that Clarke makes when she's teetering on the edge. One more push, and she'll fall to pieces.
Lexa leans over Clarke's back, pressing her breasts to the fabric of the Sky girl's shirt and shuddering at the feeling of the rough drag against her nipples. She's not able to thrust as fast, but she can pump in hard and deep, which she knows will keep Clarke on the edge of her orgasm for just a little while longer. She keeps one hand on Clarke's hip, using it to pull her back onto her cock every time she thrusts forward, and reaches around with the other to toy roughly with her clit. The bud is hard and swollen and pounding with pressure that echoes what she can feel racing along her shaft, and the moment her fingers touch it, Clarke throws back her head and keens.
"Look at you," Lexa hisses. "You're not even trying to be quiet. You'd let me take you on my throne in front of all of Polis, and you'd like everything I did to you. And why is that?" She stops thrusting for one torturous, trembling moment, letting her breath unfurl hotly against Clarke's neck and holding still so she can feel the way her lover's inner walls are wrapped so tightly around her shaft. The Sky girl mewls and pushes her hips back, begging wordlessly for her to continue, but she holds tight to Clarke's hip and keeps working her clit.
Clarke squeezes down impossibly tight around her and she has to throw her head back and shout wordlessly to the sky. When she recovers, she glares down at the flare of her lover's hips and the pleading arch of her back, but she can't be quite certain whether the Sky girl was being disobedient or whether she was simply unable to help herself. Either way, Clarke isn't going to last much longer, and neither is she. It's time to finish this.
Leaning back over so she can nip at Clarke's ear again, she redoubles her efforts on her lover's clit. Then she growls, low, "Tell me, Clarke. Tell me why you want everyone to see you being fucked by me, with my cock splitting you open. Tell me why you'd get down on your knees and suck me in the middle of a clan meeting if I told you to."
Clarke's getting tighter and tighter with each one of these scenarios she sketches out, until her entire body is like a taut bowstring begging to be loosed. Lexa craves giving her that release, with everything she is. And if saying these things to Clarke—things that she'd never dream of saying to her lover in a million years, but that Clarke swears are what she needs sometimes—will bring her that release, then she's willing to do it. To pretend to be harsh, to take control, to make her lover writhe and beg and break with her hands, her mouth, her cock—these are all things that do not come naturally to her, but she will do it if it will make Clarke come as fully and beautifully as she's building to now.
"I'll tell you why," Lexa hisses into Clarke's ear, feeling her lover's body quake beneath her own. "It's because you want everyone to know you belong to me."
It's the final push Clarke needs. The Sky girl's body locks up, but instead of screaming, she goes completely silent. A powerful shiver courses through her, strong enough for Lexa to see as well as feel, and then Clarke releases the softest of moans as her inner walls spasm. It's almost enough to drag Lexa over the edge as well, but she holds back just a little longer. She gives one last thrust, driving directly into the full spot against Clarke's front wall and trapping the twitching bud of her clit.
"Ron ai yu strikwan op," she commands, knowing Clarke will prefer the order in her language. "Come for me, Klark."
At last, she gets the flood she has worked so hard for. A surge of slick heat splashes out around the base of her shaft, trailing down her thighs and running everywhere. It's a mess, but one she doesn't mind, especially when she hears Clarke let out a grateful sob. She isn't sure whether her lover is crying out with physical relief, emotional relief, or even both, but it's still a satisfying sound. She knows that she has brought Clarke some pleasure and some peace, and that is enough.
Once there is no stopping the harsh ripples of Clarke's climax, she finally gives in to her own. Lexa heaves a sigh as the pressure pounding along her shaft shoots free in thick spurts of come, pumping deep within Clarke and coating the Sky girl's tight, trembling walls. She sags forward, unable to remain upright as she empties herself. Although sex with Clarke is always amazing, even overwhelming, this is her favorite way to come. It's not the sensation so much as the intimacy of the act—it makes her feel as though Clarke truly loves and accepts her.
Her orgasm strings Clarke's out even longer, and they come down from their high together. Each time her cock pulses and spills, Clarke's muscles clench around her, as if pleading for more. It's enough to make Lexa forget the role she's supposed to be playing. She breaks down, letting other words spill free, words she has forced herself to hold back in order to give Clarke what she needs. "Klark, ai hod yu in. Ai hainofi..."
At last, Clarke goes limp beneath her, dropping forward onto the ground and splaying out on her belly. Lexa follows, smearing comforting kisses along the line of her shoulder, inhaling the slight scent of sweat along with Clarke's unique sweetness. "Princess, huh?" she says in a weak, trembling voice. When she turns to look over her shoulder, Lexa can see that she is crying. "What happened to calling me a slut?"
Although she knows they shouldn't be having this conversation here, still joined, where anyone might come upon them, Lexa knows Clarke isn't ready for her to pull out. Her tear-streaked face is evidence enough. "I will call you whatever you wish as long as I can call you mine," she murmurs, placing a soft kiss on Clarke's slack lips. That makes the tears come faster, until they're dripping from Clarke's chin, and she hurries to brush them away. "Would you like to tell me why you wanted this? What is bothering you?"
Clarke can't answer at first. She tries several times, but her lips only shake. It isn't until she turns away, shielding her red-rimmed blue eyes and burying her face in the pillow of her forearm, that she is able to speak. "It's all this new training. I'm getting stronger. I'm... becoming a warrior, I guess." She pauses, but Lexa waits, knowing she isn't finished. "I just can't help wondering... what if I had known how to fight sooner? What if I'd been braver back then? Would it have changed things?"
Lexa can hear the question Clarke isn't quite asking. "You wonder if the past might have been different. If you might have been able to rescue more of your friends with this new knowledge."
Clarke doesn't deny it. The slight hitch to her breath tells Lexa that she hasn't stopped crying.
Thankfully, Lexa has some idea of what to say. She knows all too well how heavy the burdens of leadership and responsibility are, and how hard it can be to carry them alone. "You are not Wanheda, Clarke. Others may see you as some mythical being, a spirit of destruction or salvation, but you are only a woman. You do not have a responsibility to save the entire world. It is admirable that you want to better yourself. Take pride in that instead of questioning the past."
Clarke turns to look at her once more, sniffing slightly, and Lexa smiles.
"Besides, you were a warrior before you drew a sword, ai hodness. You have done much good, for your own people and for mine."
"For our people," Clarke says with growing confidence.
"Yes." Satisfied that the worst of Clarke's depression and anxiety has passed, she glances once more around the clearing. The glowing orange sun has sunk to the line of the horizon, but thankfully, it seems that they are still alone. "And speaking of our people, we should return to them before they discover we're missing."
"I think they've already noticed," Clarke says. Her smile is weak, but genuine. "We've probably missed dinner."
"This was more important." With a soft moan, Lexa pulls out, drawing her hips back. The shaft of her cock has softened, but it's still dripping with the remnants of Clarke's release. Making a face, she tucks it back into her pants. She will need to change as soon as she returns to the tower, and she suspects she is in for an uncomfortably sticky walk.
"Lexa?" She looks up to see Clarke still sprawled on the ground. Her lover has made no move to pull up her pants, but she looks a hundred times more relaxed. "Thank you," the Sky girl says, swiping away the last of the tears clinging to her cheeks. "I know you aren't always comfortable being that rough, but sometimes there's this knot inside me that I just can't untangle without—"
"You don't have to thank me," Lexa says. She brushes aside Clarke's damp hair, tucking it fondly behind her ear. "I would give you the sun, moon, and stars if I could. Giving you pleasure is much easier."
Clarke's face takes on some of the sunset's warm glow, and her lashes flutter. "Since you brought out Heda for me, are you sure there isn't some way I can pay Lexa back? We've already skipped dinner. We might as well go back to our rooms and relax..."
Lexa grins. Now that Clarke is happy once more, she is willing and eager to take her lover up on that offer. "Perhaps there is. I wouldn't mind setting down my own burdens for a few hours as well."
Miya, Natblida. Yo ste odon gon sintaim. = Come here, Nightbloods. You're finished for the day.
Hos op = Hurry
Hod op = Wait
Shof yu op = Be quiet
Tel ai op = Tell me
Gafa* = from 'gafen' (thirsty/horny); slut*
Ron ai yu strikwan op = Give me your orgasm
Klark, ai hod yu in. Ai hainofi = Clarke, I love you. My princess...
Ai hodness = my love
