Author's Note: Some major NSFW coming ahead. Yeah, I did post smut before, but this is the first time I write an unapologetic PWP. You have been warned.

-=oOo=-

Better Than Meditation

Raven toned the lights down to a glimmer and sank slowly until she was up to her neck in the almost scalding but delightfully swirling water. The hot jets lapped against her skin, lightly massaging her tense muscles while the profusion of churning bubbles boiled around her, touching her with a myriad tiny, light, feathery fingers.

The huge hydro-massage hot tub was a new addition to the Tower, and it was an immediate success. So much so that it had to be booked a couple of days in advance by any Titan wishing to enjoy its relaxing, stress-relieving capabilities. Raven had reserved three hours of its time; she hoped it would be enough.

"Mmmmm!" she purred and shifted, her legs parting and allowing the sparkly burble to brush around the insides of her thighs. She gasped slightly when she felt a new sensation creeping up over her knees, complementing deliciously the tickling bubbles of air and the fondling streams of water.

Her hips rocked slightly, impatient. A small frown crossed her features; her body was telling her that she was wound up quite a bit and that she needed this release. But the frown soon faded. She had time, and she was going to make the best use of it.

Her arms emerged from the water and her hands wrapped themselves around two of the several chromed handholds so conveniently provided around the hot tub. For an instant she wondered if Cyborg made them only to aid in getting in and out of the hot tub, or if he had other, naughtier ideas on his mind.

The touches on her thighs alternated from one leg to the other, never leaving any part without attention for too long. They inched slowly up, first conquering new territory with almost shy, exploratory hesitancy, only to get stronger and harder and nippier as they marked their presence with undeniable fervor, then shifting up again gently, tenderly and very, very slowly.

Again her hips heaved, this time almost greedily. It made the feeling disappear and tore out a frustrated whimper from her throat. She forced herself to relax and parted her legs further, inviting the sensation back.

It soon returned, beginning lower than it had left. It was both a scolding and a warning for next time. She grumbled, gripped the handholds tighter and eased back to enjoy it.

Her breathing had by now quickened quite a bit. She could feel the touches getting closer to her core and she so wanted to make them sink into her and take away this terrible need that she felt building up and clawing at her insides. Rationally she knew she was going to be rewarded, but it was becoming difficult to control the body that demanded the release, now.

"Oh, Azar!" she gasped as she felt the touches circle languidly around her center, carefully avoiding the most sensitive parts. Her muscles tensed and trembled; if she was not immersed up to her neck in steaming hot water she'd be covered in sweat. Small, sharp flashes of pain flared up and were immediately soothed away by soft caresses. "Nnnngh!" she protested, trying to release some of the pent-up craving vocally.

And then came a long, slow stroke between her labia that made her hiss in a sharp breath and arch her back. Her hips rocked forward again, impossible to control any more, but this time she was not punished. Instead, she was allowed to seek a slow, steady rhythm that made the water surge backwards and forwards in a series of waves that splashed over the edge of the hot tub.

The tidal rush of displaced water streamed over her submerged breasts, their taut nipples drinking eagerly every touch of the tiny water bubbles swirling around them. By Azar, how she wanted to pry her hands away from the slippery chrome and fondle and squeeze and pinch herself and moan at the sensation, but she was unable to do so. Her fingers were cramped in a death-grip, allowing her body to continue its slow rocking without sinking into the deep water completely.

Soon the touches became bolder, but at the same time more teasing. They would slip inside her for a short while, searching and taunting and tormenting her just to slide quickly out and leave her whining her disappointment. Her sensitive nub was being scourged by cruelly playful flicks, in quickening synchronicity with the hungry heaving of her hips. Shivers ran down her spine, her muscles spasmed and her body shuddered. Moans escaped her throat, cut short by the clamping of her jaws and replaced by the needy sibilance of her breathing, only to return in an even stronger volume when her muscles relaxed again, her mouth opened and her head fell back in ecstasy.

The soft but strong texture of the strokes over her clit increased and became aggressively dominating. Her inner muscles sucked the probing presence inside, where it quickly found her oh-so-receptive bundle of nerves and played with it mercilessly. The double stimulation caused starbursts to flash behind tightly shut lids; the knuckles on her fingers whitened as they cramped around the handholds while she gnawed her lower lip. Her hips were now convulsing with starving eagerness, careless of all the water they were forcing over the edge of the tub. Her head was thrown from side to side, mouth open and tongue curling, while she tried to gulp in air through a series of fast "Hah! Hah! Hah!" gasps pulsing in choked bursts that quickly turned into wailing moans and then cries and then screams as she shook with the violence of the high-voltage delirium that tore her body apart and blasted her mind into a reeling, numbed daze.

But the touches were not letting her go. They kept her shaking and writhing and quaking for a long time, until her totally exhausted muscles gave up and her supersaturated nerve endings dampened the searing torrent of rapture they were sending into her brain. She was brought back slowly, gently, tenderly, and left in a panting, quivering, boneless heap submerged to her chin in hot water, her hands still desperately tight around the support bars.

A mess of wet, green curls broke the surface of the water and rose, followed by two green, pointy ears, a pair of playfully sparkling green eyes and a green face split in a huge grin that allowed a fang to gleam in the subdued radiance. Gill slits on his neck closed and were reabsorbed into his skin. He leaned forward and kissed her lovingly.

Her hands finally managed to pry themselves away from the holds and her fingers dug through his wet hair. Her tongue probed deeply into his mouth, seeking to taste the ephemeral wisps of her own essence that remained inside. A rumble came from his chest and he pulled away.

"So," he spoke through equally quickened breathing. "Wasn't that better and more relaxing than meditation?"

"Hmmm," she hummed into his ear. "Not really."

He frowned, a little hurt by her barb. She stifled a giggle and moved her lips again to his ear.

"I'm an empath, Gar. That means I can feel your… dissatisfaction." She seized his shoulders and in a surprisingly strong and agile twist turned them around and straddled his hips. "It affects me, you know. I can't be fully at peace unless you are also… relaxed."

His eyes darkened and his voice growled. "Well, then, I suppose you'll have to do something about it, won't you?"

"Absolutely," she agreed and locked her lips with his, while her hand searched for and closed around his erection, guiding it to where it belonged.