Title: You Crawled Inside of Me
Genre: Smut
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Kate Todd/Maura Isles
Summary: Kate can feel herself spinning out of control.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, unfortunately. If I did, I would clone Sasha just so this could happen.
Author's Notes: I don't even know. I think I ship Kate/Maura (Tisles? Kaura?) way too much. I don't really like this, but I wanted to post it anyway.
XXX
Kate can feel herself spinning, spinning (outofcontrol). And she knows her mother always told her never to kiss on the first date but she doesn't even care anymore (This isn't even a date anyway, so does it even have to apply?). Time is too short, too empty and she doesn't want to wait anymore. Any day she could die in explosions or car wrecks or from a bullet in her skull. Life is a deathtrap and Kate doesn't feel like sitting back anymore.
Her lips are on Maura's (Maura, Maura. Such a…delicious name). Her mouth feels like perfection and she can taste strawberries ('andcherriesandvanilla,ohmy!' her mind chirps, and she knows Tony has rubbed off on her too much). Maura's body is writhing against hers on the dance floor and Kate never wants it to stop.
There are people packed around them but no one seems to care. The only thing that matters is the vibrating beat and the flashing lights. Kate's head is buzzing (is it Maura's kiss or the alcohol?) and her body is on fire. Heat is crawling under her skin and over her clothes (Is she burning? Has she caught on fire?). And oh, if Mother could see her now! Kate's hands are moving, shifting, searching. Every part of Maura's body is in danger of her touches.
(Kate can see her mother's face. She can hear her complaining for this 'sinful' behavior. But if Maura is sin then Kate will be happen to give up everything. Screw the ten commandments. Screw confessional. What is so wrong with pleasure, anyway?)
Maura's lips find her neck. She is in complete control and Kate is pretty okay with it. Kate was never the kind of person to submit to anyone. But Maura's lips are so soft and her tongue is so warm against Kate's pulse point. She will do anything this woman wants. She just wants to have her, completely and utterly. She wants to meld their bodies together and live inside of Maura's skin forever.
A hand slides up and cups Kate's breast. Ohmygod her mind cries out. So fast. Too fast. But Kate can feel the world spinning around her and she doesn't even give a damn. She just wants to hold this feeling forever, this heat settled between her hipbones ('Yes,Mother,Ican'tcontroltime.Wantingsomethingwillnotnecessarilyallowmetogetit.' Fuck all of that. Kate is on top of the world. Time is at her mercy as long as she is feeling like this).
Kate is floating (flying, soaring above the world). She is completely lost in her own thoughts, letting them scatter off inside of her skull. Her brain is working in overtime (Is she high? She hasn't been high since college. It feels like it. Maybe Maura is a drug. Maybe her lips are lined with it).
High or not, she wants infinity (forever, eternity) with this woman, like this. (God, she had too much alcohol. She is never like this. Her good-girl persona is dead in the ground, now. It is in a casket six-feet under, broken and bloody and no longer real. At least for tonight).
And soon the pounding music and the crowded dance floor shifts to the bright lights of the bathroom. Maura's fingers are inside of her and against her. Kate's head is thrown back against the bathroom stall door (ohmygodohmygod.She can't even think about how unsanitary this is). There are lips against her neck. Maura's voice is thick and wet. She presses French and Spanish and Italian and Portuguese into Kate's skin.
There's a coil tightening low in Kate's belly (What thehellis she doing? She is smashing all of her morals and she doesn't even care. It's exhilarating. ohmygod). She is making all sorts of noises she didn't know she could. Her whole body is throbbing in time with the beat that is still vibrating through her.
(She's out of control. Out. of. control. She can't tell what's real and what's not. All that matters is that feeling.
Maura's fingers.
In and out. Hard, rapid, perfect.
And maybe it's a dream but goddamn, it's a fantastic one.)
"Venez àmoi," Words. They slither across Kate's cheeks. They crawl through her parted lips and spread, vibrating, through the curves of her bloodstream. Her whole body collapses in on itself, falling downwards.
(It's like that old story. Sampson and Delilah. She's like that collapsing building. And it feels so good.)
Keening cries echo from her mouth. They fill her throat and tear past her lips. Her whole body trembles. Everything is a blur. All that matters is Maura. (No, this can't be a dream. It's too amazing to be a dream).
Nothing makes anymore sense that night. She remembers more kisses, more touches. She remembers a hotel room and her head between Maura's thighs. (She can still feel them gripping her head and the ache is wonderful). She remembers moans and gasps and screams. She remembers hearing Maura cry out so much that she forgot whether her name was Kate or God. She remembers Maura's incredibly talented fingers. It's all blurry and flickering, but it's locked in her brain like a movie.
Kate wakes up the next morning and Maura is still there (Her skin is a beautiful, soft tan marred by hickeys across the upper part of her chest and her neck. And Kate smiles because it's proof that it really happened. She can feel marks stinging deliciously on her own neck and she hopes they stay for a long time. Let DiNozzo wonder. It will still be her secret.) Her hair is falling across her face as she sleeps and Kate realizes she doesn't regret anything that alcohol induced.
And maybe infinity isn't real but Kate wants to make this last as long as possible. She wants to stay as long as she can in this hotel room, this bed. She wants to see Maura again and again because she's already that infatuated (The other woman isn't even awake yet, but Kate can't bring herself to stop getting ahead of things. She's enjoying this risk-taking. Time, like everything else, is limited, after all.)
So Kate settles back under the blankets. She curls against Maura's side and lets sleep stumble through her muscles again.
'Figuring things out' could wait until later.
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