A/N: Reviews are always very much appreciated.
Chapter 11
They go back to the bar where they met at the end of the week. Loud, deafening music rings in their ears as they walk, careless bodies bump into them while they go for the dance floor. Maura walks ahead of her and drags her along with their hands locked, moves with neat grace in the mess of bodies, smooth and graceful. The high neck, sleeveless black dress that hugs her curves is shorter than the others she saw on her. A glint of malice passed in Maura's eyes when Kate had landed eyes on her in her doorsteps and momentarily forgot to speak. The cut of her dress accentuated her neckline, her collarbones surfaced every time she laughed, delicate and striking.
What Kate was wearing was obviously not as seductive, but her pants fit her perfectly and her shirt felt comfortable. She made sure to leave a few buttons open and Maura has surely appreciated the sneak of the black lace of her bra underneath. Kate had smiled at the raise of her brow and held back from pointing out that she, on the contrary, was visibly not wearing any.
Maura slows her pacing in front of her, she meets her with two steps. She loosens her clutch and Kate frames her hips with her hands from behind, her thumbs pressing on Maura's back as they come to a halt.
Maura is already moving against her front; long, blonde hair tickles her chest as she sways and Kate just holds tighter, the fabric scratches her palm but the faint displeasure keeps her grounded. Her eyes drift down the curve of Maura's back and she takes in the picture of her bottom moving against the top of her legs.
She closes her eyes, breathes as deeply as she can in this heavy air. She feels warm. Her chest burns and her legs buckle, weak and unstable. She despises the hopelessness she feels, the inevitable turn things will take tonight - not because she doesn't want to take the step, but because she's used to being the one teasing, edging. Submitting that power to someone else makes her anxious, makes her feel less in control of her own body.
Maura is good, though, and admitting she wants her is so easy. Following her lead makes Maura smile so childishly. Kate wonders what that smiles turns into when she writhes in pleasure.
She shakes her head, blocking her thoughts now that she still can, wondering just how far they could take her. She wiggles her fingers while Maura turns under her palms; her hair follows the movement and Kate finds herself almost nose-to-nose with her. Maura caresses her way up her arms, taking her time to feel the fabric as she continues to move, slow and beautiful. She strokes the side of her neck as she proceeds, leaning in, letting her hands interlock behind Kate's head.
She bites her lip and Kate smirks, letting her hands wonder down her sides; her fingertips graze the skin of Maura's thighs and she falters, her smile fades into a small o. She wants to know which other places make her react like that when touched. The surprise is fleeting in her features, though, because it's a matter of seconds before Maura presses her body more fully against hers; her nose strokes her cheek as she goes for her ear.
"Why are you not dancing, Kate?" she whispers, accompanying her with her moves. "I remember watching you from the stool and dreaming of having you move against me as that boy had the luck to."
Somehow she still sounds so pure, even if the words leaving her mouth are filthy and her tone seems silk. Kate's hands skim the curve of her back over the fabric, her fingertips dip in the middle, feeling her vertebrae, making her straighten. "Am I not worth your -"
"I can't focus," she answers, touching lower. She can't help but clench her hands on her soft flesh, her nails dig briefly on her dress. It makes her purr against her cheek. "You play a dangerous game."
"Not a game. You are not a game, and having you is not the final destination."
Maura tilts her head back, the black pools of her irises burn fiercely in hers as her hands stop on the small of her back. Kate remembers perfectly the very specific urge to lean forward the first time they kissed, the life altering decision her mind registered too late. Looking at her now, ignoring the music and the bodies around them, another type of need makes her quiver. She thinks of undressing her and touching her and loving her and it feels natural, liberating.
Right. It feels right.
So she captures her lips with her owns, keeps her close with her hands at her nape as Maura's hands grip fiercely her hips. Kate bites lightly on her lower lip and she sighs, holding her harder.
She tastes of sweet alcohol and she makes her head spin exactly in the same way.
Maura has her mouth open when Kate uses her body to press the door closed, warm hands brace on her shoulders when her back hits the wooden surface. Kate swallows her moan, inches her legs open with hers to shift closer, her dress rising along her thighs.
She feels dizzy.
Maura surrenders and claims control back systematically, answers with equal vigor to her kisses. She doesn't give in, doesn't let her win like everyone else and somehow Kate just desires her more for that.
Maura feels different under her hands – she has all night long actually. Her moves seemed more confident and the voice she used to whisper in her ear definitely smoother. With her hands inching under her shirt, Kate realizes all over again that Maura is, in fact, a grown woman, comfortable in her skin and aware of her needs.
But it's easy to forget that part of her when she looks so innocent.
They part after yet another kiss, their lips red and glistening in the dark of Maura's room. Their eyes meet, blurry and fierce, and the look Kate finds in Maura's is so utterly new she has a hard time resisting kissing her again. She doesn't scare her, though, doesn't make her distance herself. She feels emboldened by the notion that Maura is like her, that she doesn't need to be more careful than usual, that she doesn't need to be different or censor herself.
So when she looks down between their bodies and sees the white porcelain of Maura's legs on each side of hers, she can't postpone what she's been dying to do all along. As her hands glide down the back of her thighs, she leans in and leaves a warning in her ear.
She hoists her up with her fingers pressing into her soft flesh and Maura whimpers with her mouth on her neck, letting her feel her smirk against her pulse point. Maura squirms against her to keep herself up and every little movement of her body sends a jolt of pure pleasure in her veins. A sharp thud echoes against the walls when she lets her heels fall to the ground and presses her feet against the back of Kate's thighs.
Kate's hands roam her skin, disappear under the black fabric of her dress. She closes her eyes and focuses on the hot press of Maura's mouth under her jaw line and the encompassing warmth of her body. She knows her hands are clasping a little too roughly, digging in her flesh, but Maura doesn't comment, just clutches at her back and kisses her from above.
She feels the muscles of her thighs tense to climb higher.
Her feet move backward, distancing them from the door. Their shadows ghost in the mirror in the low light and Kate groans, in awe with how good they look together, what a pleasing, perfect form their bodies make.
She falls on the bed behind her with Maura in her lap, straddling her, teasing and glowing in her glory. Maura combs her own hair to the side, tousling it, looking wilder, and Kate immediately arches toward her, searches her lips not to bite her owns.
Every kiss settles at the bottom of her belly, amplifies her longing, the light scratch of Kate's nails on her thighs makes her hum. Maura leans back, one hand on Kate's shoulder for leverage and her thumbs tracing her lower lip. It's tough to take distance, to stop, but the moment her gaze travels up and meets hers everything feels more real.
"I don't want to presume anything," she whispers, a little smile tugging on her lips. "Should we stop?"
"No," she mouths. She holds her gaze for a moment before leaning in. "No," Kate repeats muttering with her mouth at the base of Maura's neck. She breathes in her perfume while her hands caress their way up her back, reaching blindly for the zip of the dress.
As the teeth pop open and the dress peels off her skin in two, her palms cover the newly revealed skin of her back. With her eyes closed, she takes in the valley between her shoulder blades when Maura arches, she studies with neat diligence each downturn of her back, every ridge her bones create where they end. Maura keeps her mouth near her hairline, leaves kisses where she can, little sounds of encouragement leave her throat as the hands in her brown hair keep her in place.
She lets her hands wonder to the small of her back, over her goosebumps, where her flesh is easier to feel, where the zip ends and forces her to stop. She's patient against her, soft and warm and overwhelming.
Maura shifts back and meets her mouth halfway. She undoes the buttons of Kate's shirt slowly, opens her mouth for her, welcomes the work of her lips. She lets her fingertips graze the skin of her stomach, where the bruise must still be a little present, and as good as it feels to have her this near, blind touching is not enough.
"Stand," she whispers with her mouth against Kate's. Taking her hands in hers, she moves backward, rises from the bed and from Kate's thighs. Her shirt comes off rather quickly and Maura is already reaching for the clasp of her bra between Kate's breasts.
"You are so beautiful," Maura sighs, in awe, her bra drop at their feet and her fingertips reach out and draw the line of her sternum.
Kate sees her eyes take her in, her head tilts to the side and her lips move without actually saying anything. She still finds her admiration more pleasing than everyone else's, sometimes it's even amusing, but what she sees in her eyes is not as innocent as the other times. The tone of her voice gave her a shiver and now that Maura takes a step forward and strokes the underside of her breasts, lightly, teasing, she closes her eyes and exhales.
She tests the feeling of her breasts in her palms and her mouth claims her lips back. The force of the kiss makes Kate moan, her hands brace on Maura's hips – soon find their way to her exposed back – and Maura seems to smirk against her.
Their mouths open and work slowly while Maura pulls the black dress off her arms. It pools at her waist and Kate drags the fabric down, tugs it over her hips, down her legs. The fall is silent and Maura raises of her tiptoes, throw her arms around her neck, crashes their nude chests together and makes them collapse on the bed again.
She laughs against her lips, already giddy, and her stomach vibrates against Kate's.
She never stops surprising her.
TBC
A/N: I ended it here because I need a piece of advice: should I continue the scene or jump to the morning after?