Control
She was in control of me, just like I was in control of her. But in this case I was surrendered to her. Her arms pinning me down to the cushions, her chest heaving with breath. Mine was too, pumping up and down as my heart slammed like it wanted out. I felt her lips, so warm and soft yet so fierce it was shocking. I kissed her back as best I knew how. We were both moving so fast it seemed as if we had to memorize the other but only had a few minutes to do so. I wanted desperately to reach up and run my hands through her hair, dark and spilling like a curtain of black wine on silk after she had taken it out of its hold. But her grip on me was strong, too strong for me to fight against. She let out a low growl when I tried to force against her, and her mouth moved down to my neck. I gasped in a high-pitched intake of breath and tipped my head back. It was so warm, it was all so warm, and I didn't want any of it to end.
I heard my name in her breath as if she was breathing me. I moaned hers; it was the only word I could remember. My mind was such a blank, an empty blank that was just telling me to go on.
Her grip left me to remove my clothes. I felt a rush of blood to my hands and arms, which I hadn't noticed go numb. I sat up and gripped her shirt, removing fastens with shaky tingly fingers; at last just resorting to tearing it. A flash of heat was at my side, so sharp it made me gasp and flinch. But it was just fire, burning a hole through my shirt so she could tear it and my bra off. At the time I didn't care, we continued to tear each other to shreds until first shirts then pants were gone, fragments littering the floor and bed. My hair slipped from its tie and splashed over the sheets when I flopped backwards. I lifted my head enough to kiss her again, running my hand up her bare thigh.
We flipped over several times, gripping sheets and bed post and each other, so numb with excitement and fear our muscles couldn't hold. Staying in one place ended up in cramping.
She was slick with moisture and warm. My fingers mimicked her pulsing, gently stroking the gasps out of her just like she was doing to me. Our breathing--thick with sounds that weren't words--made kissing become futile so that we quickly forgot about it.
We changed position again. Her hand pressed down my knee, the other one tracing the inside of my thigh. Her tongue dragged over me, and I shivered and moaned, the pulsations so strong it made me jump. The red fabric that was in fists was scarred and slightly damp when I unclenched it. I said her name over and over again. Azula was the only word in my mind, an empty ocean.
Things faded that night as we lost control.
This is the last chapter, but I might write more