Chapter 8
Anya growled. Her blood was on fire. She held herself up over Clarke. She felt every bit of Clarke below her.
She wanted to go slow. She wanted bring Clarke into their shared lives. She tilted her head. She could smell Clarke and it was divine. All she could think about was consuming her, marking her, and ravishing her completely so that no one else would even dare try. Anya wasn't the jealous type; she didn't share well, though. It was everything that she could do now that Clarke admitted to wanting her not to pin the younger blonde to the bed and fuck her until they had to leave the bunker. Anya didn't want to just fuck her. She wanted Clarke to understand what it meant to be loved by another. She wanted her touch to feel like a brand. She wanted to be Clarke's everything now. The animosity was gone and only desire, warm and wet, remained. And, Anya's honor told her that she had to be respectful and doting to Clarke. She had to go slow, for now.
Clarke was feeling more confident, but she realized that the more that Anya stared at her, the more she seemed to be worshiping her. It made Clarke feel good. She reached up and threaded her fingers through Anya's hair, enjoying the way it felt. Anya didn't move. It was like she was too afraid to break the spell between them.
Part of Clarke's brain was screaming at her at this was wrong. The other part, which was way louder, was telling her to go through with it. She'd already promised and accepted Anya as her "wife," so sleeping with her was a no-brainer. It was also that part that was telling her this was actually for the good of her people. Solidifying the union that she had with Anya would only prove to be advantageous for them both later. It was that same part that was telling her to indulge and be selfish because she deserved it. Lying with Anya and being together wasn't going to hurt anyone. They still had to convince Lexa to join forces and then attack the Mountain. It would take days, weeks even, for that to happen. One night of pleasure with Anya wasn't going to stop that.
And, she was just so damn touched starved, too. She'd been alone in her cell in the Skybox. She'd spurned Finn, for obvious reasons, in this life. She wasn't going to go through that again with Raven. She couldn't. And, she managed to keep Octavia from trying with him, too. And, besides Finn, no one wanted in the camp but maybe Bellamy, but Clarke had standards and wasn't just going to become another notch in his bedpost. It didn't matter how her helped her and that when he finally grew up in a year or five that he might actually stand a chance. (As long as Lexa lived, he never would, and well, Bell always found a way to screw things up, so...) She might think about it. But, now, she was with Anya. Being separated in the Mountain had reminded her of the Skybox. Then they were running for their lives. It wasn't like she picked the bunker as place to have some big rendezvous. She picked the bunker because of the storm and fog. They'd needed shelter. And, Anya was just laying there.
Her body was reacting to Anya's warmth. Her core was reacting to Anya's closeness. Her mind was lost to the power that Anya, still wounded and weakened (never weak) conveyed with each touch. She was calling out for Anya's spirit and Anya's spirit was answering in kind. Clarke had to admit that she'd never felt anything like this, except with Lexa. It was consuming, and she didn't know what it was about the two, but she craved it.
Part of it was selfishly because she wanted Lexa to live. And, if staying away from Lexa meant that she had a relationship with Anya, then she would suffer greatly. This life was so different than the last few. And, maybe that is why she was so drawn to Anya. Maybe it has always been meant to be Anya. Her spirit and power were similiar to Lexa's. After all, Anya was her teacher. It made sense, but Clarke realized too late that she was losing herself in her head.
Anya decided to fix that for her. Noticing that Clarke was drifting, she leaned down to Clarke's ear. Growling, slightly, she felt Clarke shiver as she said one word: "Ain." (Mine)
"Sha, yun," Clarke replied.
Anya shifted slightly to her left side. This put her back to the table again, but it gave her full use of her right arm and a gorgeous view of Clarke in the bed. She reached up and brushed the hair out of Clarke's face. She smiled down at her. She let her right hand wander until down Clarke's unclothed left side. She could feel her skin react to her touch. Flicking her eyes up, she met wide pupils surrounded by a darkening blue. Smiling at her again, Anya leaned down and kissed her.
Clarke smiled into the kiss. It was soft, but she could feel Anya's desire and power behind. Knowing that she would have to push Anya, because she was just being too sweet, Clarke reached up and buried her hands in Anya's hair. Holding her against her mouth, she deepened the kiss. Anya moaned against her lips.
Understand that Clarke wanted her just as bad, Anya moved the kiss from her lips to her jaw. She followed the line of Clarke's jaw down to her right ear and nibbled a bit on the lobe. Clarke moaned softly. Anya was not deterred by her sounds. It just spurred her on. Coming down the side of her throat, she landed on Clarke's shoulder.
Leaning up more, she looked down at Clarke, again and smiled. She ran her hand up Clarke's left side then across her torso. She lightly moved her fingertips up Clarke's sternum. She rested the palm of her hand between Clarke's breasts for a few moments. She could feel the rapid heartbeat below, and she knew that she was the cause. Looking up into Clarke's eyes again, checking in to make sure that younger woman was still comfortable, she shifted until her weight was on her hips and elbows. Snuggling her hips between Clarke's legs, she leaned down and kissed her again. Needing the contact and rush before she went further.
When she broke the kiss this time, she was just inches from Clarke's face. Her eyes darted back and forth with both of Clarke's. Her hands however moved to Clarke's shoulders. She toyed with the straps of her bra. With a slight nod, Anya brought them down over the curve of her shoulder. She looked down and watched as the material moved, exposing a little more of Clarke's breasts to her. Without breaking her gaze, she reached over and raised Clarke's head. Pulling some blankets and the pillows under her neck, Anya made sure that she could see what she was about to do.
Kissing her again, thoroughly, she allowed Clarke to deepen the kiss again. When she thrust her tongue in Anya's mouth, the older woman didn't question it. She just went with it and lightly sucked on Clarke's tongue. Anya wasn't a fool. She knew that Clarke was old enough to have to kissed, even if she hadn't coming fully into her second life yet. Clarke amazed her. The desire that she gave off was addicting to Anya. The older woman knew that she could lose herself in Clarke if she allowed it, and for now, she was going to allow it. She wanted to know everything about the younger blonde and how she sounded when she came. Spurred on by this thought, she shifted until she could worship and lave the top of Clarke's breasts. Running her tongue across the creamy, unmarred skin, made Anya drunk.
Clarke's hands would scratch at scalp and pull at her hair. Anya quickly realized that scratches meant it felt good, but pulling meant it felt too good. Pulling was also usually accompanied by a breathy moan. A moan that Anya was quickly realizing made her dizzy with lust and wantonness. Carefully, one hand at a time, she reached up and pulled down the cups to Clarke's bra. She didn't bother to remove from Clarke's person. She just got it out of the way. Now with her nipples exposed, Clarke gasped when Anya took one in her mouth. Suckling hard on the flesh, they both moaned.
One of Clarke's hands moved from her head and down her back as far as it could. Anya felt the slight tug on her breast wrap. Flicking her eyes up to meet Clarke's, she saw her want reflected back at her. She knew what Clarke needed. She shifted her weight, but never removed her mouth from Clarke's breast. She pulled and tugged until the wrapping came loose enough that she could lay back down and throw it to the floor. When her breasts were free, she laid back against Clarke and loved the feeling of skin on skin. She sighed as she went back to loving on Clarke's chest. Realizing that Clarke's bra was still in her way, she raised up and grabbed the two cups and just pulled until the cloth gave. She couldn't be bother to let Clarke undo it and remove it on her own.
"That was my best bra," Clarke lamented.
"It is silly. I will teach you how to wrap your breasts. More efficient and comfortable that flimsy piece of cloth. Besides, it was in my way," Anya told her as leaned down and kissed her again.
Getting lost in the kiss, Clarke forgot about her bra and let herself feel. She couldn't believe how nice it felt to have Anya on top of her. She wrapped her arms around Anya and placed her hands on her back. She rubbed them up and down and felt all the scars, especially the kill marks that Anya had. There were enough to prove Anya's prowess on the battlefield. She knew enough to not ask, especially while they were kissing. She could ask later when they weren't together, in bed, doing things of a passionate nature. She mentally shook head and let herself enjoy Anya's ministrations.
Anya wasn't going to let her worry about anything else. She moved down her throat again, over her shoulders and down to her breasts. Anya couldn't help but smiled when she took Clarke's nipple in her mouth again. The soft sighs and moans that Clarke gave her just made her stay there, suckling, laving, and nibbling on Clarke's abundant breasts. After a while, one of Clarke's hands moved from Anya's back up into her hair again.
"Come here," Clarke demanded with a small tug of her hair.
Anya moved back up her body. Kissing her over and over again, Anya moved them a little to their sides. As they moved Anya ran her hands down Clarke's torso. She was enjoying the way that Clarke felt and reacted to her touch. Clarke sighed again. Not to be out done, Clarke reached up and held Anya's cheek as they continued to kiss. The kiss wavered from deep to light, passionate to sweet, hard and raw to soft and tentative. They both smiled in theiber kisses.
Soft and slow, Anya ran her hand down Clarke's body until she was on her hip. The pants she wore were now an offending barrier between them. Anya worked her hand back up and then slightly under the waistline to get at the skin there. She was stopped not too far under it. Her fingertips only just brushing at the extremely soft skin hidden below. The tightness of her pants was keeping Anya from getting anything.
Giggling a little, Clarke reached down and grabbed Anya's hand. She pulled it back up to her breast and gave it a squeeze. Anya broke their kiss and looked into her eyes. There were questions there, but Clarke's actions became her answers. Giving Anya's hand another squeeze, she reached down her own body and undid the fly. When she opened her pants wide enough, she grabbed Anya's hand again and dragged it down her body. Slowly, she eased Anya's hand into her pants and to her core.
Anya gasped at Clarke's brazenness, but she didn't stop her. She moaned as she felt the heat coming from Clarke's core. Kissing her to the point where she was sucking on her tongue, Anya toyed with the almost scalding flesh of her mound. She didn't let her fingers dip inside. She was teasing Clarke, pleasing her, and waiting to see how long she was going to let Anya play. Softening her kiss, again, Anya tasted Clarke's mouth.
"Touch me," Clarke demanded.
Anya smiled against her and pushed her hand down. She cupped Clarke, just holding her mound in her hand. Her fingers spread so that they were touching the apex of her thighs. Just holding her, she started kissing her way down. While her lips searched for places that made Clarke moan out, Anya would flutter her fingers. She could feel the growing wetness between Clarke's legs. Kissing her deeper, she let one finger slip and touch the wet warmth. Moaning into Clarke's mouth, Anya shuttered against her.
"Klark, by the spirits, my beautiful houmon," Anya sighed against her.
She buried her head in the junction of Clarke's shoulder and neck, nipping slightly at the soft skin there. Clarke whimpered at the feeling, basically begging for more. Anya didn't hold back anymore. She dipped her fingers in between Clarke's lips and ran them up and down. She felt the warmth moving with her fingers, lubing up her entire core.
As Anya's fingers started to dance against her core, Clarke needed more of a connection with her. Reaching down, she took Anya's free hand and brought it up between her breasts. Holding it there, she allowed Anya to feel her heartbeat again. She kept it there and felt Anya shift her weight to get more comfortable. Now, Clarke had Anya feeling her heartbeat in two place, and she was completely connected to her new lover. With one hand on her heart and the other at her core, Clarke moaned, long and loud for her.
Anya's fingers began to move. The entire time that she had been mapping Clarke's body, her fingertips dreamed of mapping her core. Now there, Anya didn't want to leave. She wanted to feel everything that Clarke had to offer. She wanted to sneak down and taste her, but she knew that she would have to wait. It was like she knew that Clarke had to have this connection for their first time. She wanted Clarke to see who was taken her and bringing her into their second lives together. Anya hadn't felt this turned on and needy in years. She wasn't especially wanton when it came to being with a lover, but Clarke broke every rule. They beauty that she was exuding wrapped Anya in a blanket and held her tight. She didn't want Clarke to let her go. She didn't realize how much she needed this, needed Clarke, needed this type of want and dare say love in her life. She'd become so used to war and fucking that the softness of Clarke's touch had become her undoing. And, she didn't care. She craved it and wanted more.
Slowly, Anya's fingers traced around Clarke's clit, never giving it direct stimulation. Clarke ran her fingers around Anya's neck. If Anya was going to tease her, Clarke was going to touch her. Seemingly accidently Clarke found a sensitive spot on Anya's neck. She worried with her fingers, drawing moans from the older woman. Anya looked up and kissed her. Clarke buried both her hands in Anya's hair.
Tugging Anya's braids, she told her, "Fuck me, Anya. Meik ai yun. Beja."
In her need, Anya didn't ask where she'd learned to say please. She was only to happy to give Clarke what she wanted. Clarke saying please in her language instead of Gonasleng was more like a boon. She knew that Clarke was a quick study, and she was learning her body just by touch. A few words between them meant nothing, it was the kisses, touches, and need growing between them that meant everything. Anya pushed two fingers inside Clarke, knowing she was ready now, by her need and moans.
"Yu laik ain," Anya told her as she kissed her. "Our spirits will be one. Our union will be complete soon."
Clarke had no idea what she was saying. She didn't care. She needed Anya to take her. She wanted to Anya to make her cum. She needed Anya to push her over the edge.
"Onya, beja," she begged as Anya moved her fingers.
Anya knew what she needed. She shifted her hand so that she could reach deeper inside Clarke's bounty. It was everything that she could do to keep her eyes from rolling back. Clarke was so warm and inviting. She was getting drunker and drunker on her moans. The saltiness of her skin and Clarke's smell was driving her crazy. She could feel their bodies sliding against each other. The heat between them building to a fever pitch, Anya found the spot inside that would push Clarke completely over the edge and into oblivion. Clarke's body bucked up off the bed and Anya had to shift her weight, without hurting Clarke, back down onto the bed, to the furs.
Anya watched her as she started to fall. Wishing for nothing more to share this act with Clarke beneath the stars, she began to plan a place to take her once they were in Polis. She would take her there and then take her there. First, she had to make Clarke scream out.
"Let me hear you," Anya stated as she sped up her fingers.
Brushing against that spot, over and over again, Anya pushed her over. Clarke scratched down her back, but Anya didn't care. She was so far gone in her passion for Clarke, that nothing else mattered but her lover.
Clarke's eyes went wide as Anya kept playing against her spot. Each stroke was deeper than the last, each tap a little harder, and then Anya's thumb grazed over her clit sending her soaring.
"Sha, Onya, sha, beja...please, please don't stop," Clarke begged of her.
Anya didn't stop. She kept going. She wanted to make Clarke see the stars again.
She wasn't disappointed. As she continued to worry that spot and brush her thumb against Clarke's clit, her blue eyes went wild. Her body bucked and Anya had to use her own to keep her on the bed. When Clarke finally fell over the edge, she throat strained but no words came out. Her fingertips dug into Anya's body, pulling it down on top of her, grounding her and keeping her in that bed of furs with her.
Anya didn't stop her movements. She slowed them down as she watched Clarke's face. She knew that the younger woman had just come into their second life together and she wanted to make sure that she was sated completely. Their union was now complete, their spirits had bonded. And, Anya wanted to welcome her to it.
"Heya, ain meizen Klark, monin hou, ain houmon," Anya told her. (Hello my beautiful Clarke, welcome {back}, my wife.)
Clarke was still trying to catch her breath. But, she looked up at Anya. She'd called her that word again, and even though Clarke couldn't think very well having been thoroughly loved, she wanted to know what it meant. Kissing Anya and pulling her to lay against her side, almost spooning, but facing each other, Clarke finally asked her what it meant.
"Anya?"
"Hmm?"
"What does 'hoe-man' mean?"
"Wife," Anya told her.
Clarke hummed and then smiled. Oh, yeah, Octavia and Raven are so never going to let me live it down. Honestly, now, I don't care as long as she keeps loving on me like that, I'll deal with all the ribbing.
"I like the sound of that," Clarke replied. "Onya kom Skaikru, ain houmon."
"Sha, Klark, sha," Anya bade her. "Reshop."
"What about you?"
"We have time, Clarke. Reshop. Tomorrow is another day...together."