I'm a little nervous writing this cause it's my first M-rated, but I had a consultant (thanks, Jack), so I feel a little better about this chapter. Let me know what you think and don't forget to favorite, follow, and review!
Enjoy!
Two nights later, when Bellamy is once again occupied and I can get away again, I find Lincoln waiting for me just outside the gate.
"What are you doing here? You could've been seen, and nobody knows about you yet," I admonish, wrapping my arms around his neck before kissing him. "I'm serious, Lincoln, it's dangerous."
"Just surviving on the ground is dangerous," he reminds me in response. "I thought I'd come meet you. A tree fell down on the way to my cave, and I didn't want you to have to cross it."
I glare at him, pulling away. "I'm not some fragile little girl that you have to protect, Lincoln. I was in prison, you know."
He smiles, kissing me again before taking my hand and dragging me away from the prying eyes and flashing lights of the Dropship. "I know that you're a warrior-"
"Damn right I am," I interrupt, stepping over a log on the ground. I'm tempted to point that out to Lincoln, the fact that I can step of fallen branches on the ground, but I resist. "But continue."
"-and I want to help you be a warrior," he finishes.
"Oooh, like X-Men training?" I inquire, but dismiss it when he seems confused. They must not have movies on the ground, why did that not occur to me? I didn't even see movies on the Ark (because I couldn't be seen at the occasional movie nights), but Bellamy would tell me all about them when he'd get home. "Never mind. But you training me in the art of fighting…sounds sexy."
He gives what I assume is the Lincoln version of a smirk. "It could be."
And that's all we say about that.
We get back to his cave (I love saying that. It sounds so mysterious!), where I settle down in front of the fire. Lincoln gets a little jar with a lid from a crevasse in the wall.
"What's that for?" I ask, my legs crisscrossed.
"To be a warrior, you have to look like a warrior," he tells me, kneeling in front of me and opening it. There's a pool of black paint inside, which he dips his fingers into.
"So you're putting face paint on me?" I ask as he smears the cold pigment across my cheekbones. "I never pictured you as a makeup artist."
He kisses me, effectively shutting me up. "It's customary not to talk."
"When am I ever customary?" I ask as his fingers go over the lines again.
He trails his fingers down my neck and I get goosebumps. Before he continues down my torso, he commands, "Take off your shirt."
I grin. "Are you just trying to get me naked, Lincoln?"
He leans toward me, close enough that I can almost taste his breath as he speaks. "Maybe."
"Ha! I got you to admit it," I cheer triumphantly. I take my shirt off, then my bra, baring myself to my boyfriend. Then I (attempt to) bite my lip seductively. "Happy now?"
"Very." He leans in to kiss me, then backs away to continue marking my body with the thick black lines. "Warriors are marked all over."
"I know." I blush as I remember the marks on his abdomen that I admired the first time we had a real conversation. I'm not a girl who's well-versed in attractive abs, but I'm sure that even by an expert's standards, Lincoln measures up.
His fingers are gliding down my skin, drawing swirls down my breasts, encircling my nipples. I expect him to stay there, but he continues down, making increasingly thickening lines down my stomach. Then he pauses, kissing me again.
"Now I look like a warrior," I whisper, pulling him toward me, suddenly breathless. I kiss along his neck and shoulders, and he arches into my warm breath.
"Not quite." He pushes me down onto my back and I start to object before he kisses me again. He undoes the buckle before he eases my pants off my hips and down my legs.
Ok, never mind the fact that I haven't shaved since I got to the ground (yeah, the list helpful things that they neglected to put in the dropship include razors and shaving cream. Also, eyeliner, which Marissa laments daily.), there's a more pressing problem at hand.
No, quite literally. Part of the problem has made itself apparent and is pressing into my thigh.
"Lincoln, I don't know if we're ready for this. If I'M ready for this, Lincoln, ok?" I stutter. I try so hard to be badass (and I am, just naturally), but even though I can start an argument with anyone, survive in a prison full of dangerous criminals (because my only crime was being born), and survive on the ground, I'm still a virgin. There's not much chance to have sex when you're living under a floorboard, and in Ark jail, they discourage the teenage prisoners from fucking each other. "Lincoln, I can't do this, not right now."
"I know," he says quietly as I bite my lip, this time nervously. For a second, he admires me in my underwear-only state before dipping his fingers into the jar of paint again.
He presses his fingertips to my ankle, creating a line of circular dots up my leg. I shiver, but relax, even as he approaches my underwear line. He does the other leg, and after a few minutes, I'm painted all over in a series of lines, dots, and swirls. For war paint, it's pretty beautiful.
"So, what do we do now that I look like a warrior?" I ask as Lincoln bends over me, his hands on the ground beside my hips so that he keeps his balance. We kiss, and his weight shifts onto me a bit as he uses one hand to slip my panties down my legs. I break out of the kiss reluctantly. "Lincoln…"
"I know, Octavia," he responds gently, trailing his fingers across the curve of my hips before dropping them lower and pushing them into me.
I gasp and a small smile plays with his lips as he kisses me again. After I've guided Lincoln's fingers exactly where I want them, I let my hand slip around his waist and then into the band of his pants. After a few minutes, we collapse next to each other, both still breathing heavily.
"You really are a warrior, aren't you?" He asks softly and I laugh, laying my head on his now-bare chest.
"Damn right I am, Grounder."
-What'd you think? Review, review, review! Just like I said on my Destiel story (which you should totally go check out), you don't even have to put words together into a sentence. Just leave a measly little smiley face like this, ok? :) It'll make me smile, too!