Chapter 9

Clarke fell asleep in her arms. She was warm and sated. She snuggled hard into Anya's body, enjoying the warmth and juxtaposition that the warrior woman offered.

When she woke, she was aware of two things. One, Anya was sleeping with her back to the desk, holding Clarke tight against her. Two, she was hungry. Her hunger was two-fold though. She wanted food, but she wanted Anya, too. She didn't think that it was fair that the warrior had gotten to claim her completely hours before.

Oh, she enjoyed it. She was delighted with the patience and the softness that Anya displayed as she ravished her. It wasn't a grandiose fucking. It was loving and thoughtful. She knew that Anya didn't pressure her to return the favor because she knew that she was still a virgin in this life. She didn't want Clarke to feel like she had to pleasure her if she wasn't ready. But, Clarke didn't want to their activities together to be one-sided. They were supposed to be in a partnership. They were union-ed now. But, she didn't think that they were completely union-ed. She needed to please Anya, first. And, she wanted to. She was hungry to feel the power that she would have knowing that she was the one that was making Anya feel pleasure and love. She knew how drunk she could get on that feeling.

Stirring just a little, she pushed her butt back into Anya's body and realized that she still had on pants. This just wouldn't do. Turning in Anya's arms, she rolled over to face her. As soon as she did, she couldn't resist looking at her.

Clarke took in the softness of her as she slept. She knew that it was deceiving. Anya was anything but soft when she was fighting or dealing with political issues. Clarke knew from first-hand experience. The delicate arch of her brow, the sharpness of her small nose, and the high rise of her cheeks made her exotically beautiful. She knew how hard and how soft Anya's golden-brown eyes were. She had to admit that she liked them better when they were soft and full of passionate desire than when they were hard and angry. Clarke made it a resolution, since they were now wed, to make sure that Anya never looked at her like that again.

"Niron, you're staring."

"You're beautiful," Clarke told her.

"Meizen," Anya said.

"What?"

"Meizen is beautiful."

"Oh," Clarke replied. "Yu laik meizen, Onya."

"Ai laik yuj en gona."

"Yes, you are a warrior. And, you're strong. I would never deny that," Clarke replied.

"Is there something that you need, ain houmon?" Anya teased her.

"Sha," Clarke answered.

"Chit?"

"I'm going to assume that means 'what' and say that you, my wife," Clarke told her. "I want to bring you into our second life. My spirit demands it for our union to be complete. I know that you let me rest because it was my first time, but that doesn't mean that I don't need to bring you the same pleasure."

"Very well then, niron," Anya replied with a smile.

"Will you take off your pants?"

"Sha, niron."

Anya got up. Clarke ran her hand down her legs. She was still wet, a little sore, but she wanted Anya. She watched her though, feeling her body respond as Anya finished disrobing. Keeping her hands to herself, Clarke barely remembered her removing her pants after she undid them for Anya, but she knew she had. She lay back on the bed, furs pulled back, all on display, as Anya dropped trow in front of her. She had to keep herself in the bed, but she wanted to reach out for her.

Anya turned back and looked at her. She could see the want and desire in Clarke's eyes. She knew that it was faked. Clarke wanted her as she was. She didn't want to make Anya soft. She cared for the warrior, understanding her need for honor, and want to be strong for Clarke, in any way she could. Clarke would do the same for her. She knew that now. Their union would be a good one. It would last because they would both fight for it. And, she knew that Clarke was hungry. She was as well. She knew that if Clarke touched her right, she wouldn't take long to fall over. She was still keyed up from the night before, or what she assumed was the night before.

"I need to add oil to the lamp and start something for us to eat," Anya told her.

"I want to eat you," Clarke replied with a teasing look in her eyes.

"Eat me?" Anya asked as she moved to the desk to add oil to the lamp.

"Go down on you," Clarke stated.

"I don't understand."

"I want to taste you," Clarke said.

"You've tasted me, Clarke, with your kiss," Anya replied.

"I want to taste you elsewhere with my kiss," Clarke explained as she flicked her eyes down towards the apex of Anya's legs.

Anya finally got the idea. She cocked an eyebrow and smiled at the younger woman. She gathered some of the food that was left on the table to make a stew. She quickly filled the pot with some of the wolf's meat and water. Adding just a few vegetables and spices, Anya set it to cook high above the lamps flame. She knew that low and slow would produce a thicker and better stew. She also wanted to give herself enough time to be with Clarke, maybe even tasting her, too.

She moved back to the bed. Clarke welcomed her. As soon as she was in the bed, Clarke made sure to put her on her back as she pulled the top fur over them. Smiling down at her warrior wife, Clarke leaned closer. She kept her lips hovering just over Anya's, teasing her, waiting to see how long Anya could be patient now that they were both nude. She didn't have to wait long. Anya reached up, wrapped her fingers around the back of Clarke's neck, and pulled her the rest of the way down to her lips. She quickly deepened the kiss to show Clarke how much she wanted her. They moaned to each other.

Clarke let her control it for a minute. She was still building herself up. She couldn't believe, still, that Anya wanted her. It just seemed so out of character, but she knew that Anya wanted her just by her touch. Giving in to her own desire was the only that she was going to prove to herself that she could handle this. So, she did.

She moved her way down Anya's face to her chin. She lightly nipped at it, causing the older woman to giggle. Enjoying the sounds that Anya made, Clarke moved up her jaw to her ear. She found the spot just behind Anya's ear that made her moan, softly, and grab at Clarke's person. She worked her way from that spot down Anya's throat. Nipping and sucking, Clarke wanted to mark her, but she knew now wasn't the time. She would do it later and make it big and dark. She would lay claim for all to see. Trying to not get lost in her thoughts, Clarke kept moving. She drug her lips across Anya's collar until she made to her shoulders. Then, she worked her way back again, all lips and teeth.

Anya just smiled as her little houmon worshiped her body. Anya didn't care that she was taking her time. She enjoyed because she knew it was another way for Clarke to show her how much she actually care. She knew that the younger blonde wasn't as experienced, so she would let her play for now. If it got to be too much, she'd just flip her over and have her way with her again as she rode Clarke's leg to completion. She wouldn't mind if it came to that, but she hoped that it wouldn't. She wanted the little fiery blonde to actually have her way with her. So, Anya shifted a little bit in the bed and got comfortable. She knew that she was in for a long and enjoyable ride. Which was another reason that she was glad she set the stew so high to cook. Clarke was proving to be a very thorough and tenacious lover.

As she worked her way down Anya's body, she couldn't help but touch her. She was baffled and intrigued by the softness that Anya retained as a woman and the hardness that she gained as a warrior. Her skin was soft and highly touchable, but it was littered with battle scars and tattoos telling of victories, defeats, sorrows, kills, and hard life. Clarke popped up for a second to look into her honey gold eyes. Smiling, she leaned down and captured one of Anya's harden nipples between her lips. She sucked on it, softly. This must have been one of Anya's "sweet" spots because she reached down and held Clarke by her ass. Cupping it, she pulled up on it, forcing Clarke to bite down to keep her position and her prize. Anya's moan turned from an almost begging whimper into a deep, throaty growl. It made Clarke swoon as she, herself, moaned against Anya's breast. Anya's hands were back on her backside with a playful tap. Clarke turned her head just enough to cock an eyebrow at the warrior. When she got no response, or more formal direction in what she wanted, Clarke start moving from one breast to the other.

And, as much as she enjoyed Anya's moaning growls, she wasn't going to be kept from her prize. Anya had already had her turn, and now Clarke wanted, no, needed her own. She somewhat understood Anya's plight when it came to "bolstering her spririt;" she felt it now. She wanted them to be equals. She wanted to ravish Anya's body as much she wanted Anya to ravish her, again and again...and again.

Clarke shifted. This meant that Anya had to let go of her luscious butt, which she voiced. Clarke smiled around her nipple and gave it a particularly hard bite. Anya was enjoying this playful side of Clarke, but she was starting to get to the point were it wasn't enjoyable, so much as it was torture. She'd failed to realize how turned on she actually was. While Clarke was moving on top of her, she spread her legs further apart. Clarke made herself at home in between her legs, shifting her weight until her body had slid down a little. This made it hard for Anya to reach her ass, but it put Clarke perfectly aligned with Anya's bosom. She went back to work worshiping her breasts.

"Klark, beja," Anya whined.

Clarke couldn't help the smile that crossed her face. Her own hips were moving in between Anya's legs and she finally felt Anya's wantonness painted against her stomach. She couldn't hold back the moan that escaped her throat. With each movement, more and more of Anya's slick was coated against her. Clarke's eyes rolled back and she released Anya's breasts from her hands and the worried nipple from her mouth.

She gazed over Anya's flesh, admiring the slight color that it had. She knew it was from working out in the sun. Her own skin would start tanning soon. But, she was always amazed at the coloring of the Grounders. With everyone on the Ark, it had been genetics really that determined everything. On the ground, that was just the beginning. The sun, work, and other environmental factors went into how everyone's skin and hair changed. Clarke could tell that her hair got lighter over the many months on Earth, which made her hair stand out more for its lighter shade of blond. She enjoyed the slight contrast between her own pale skin and Anya's sun-kissed skin. She watched as her hands moved around Anya's skin, mapping it, learning it, committing it to memory.

She let her lips and tongue surveyed every inch that they could from the base of Anya's breasts down her torso until they reached the divot of her bellybutton. Clarke's hands were still connected, and not letting go anytime soon, to Anya's breasts. The scent of Anya flooded her nose and brain. She could still feel the smear of it against her own body. She was so close now, she wasn't going to stop.

One of Anya's hand moved to rake through her hair. As much as Anya wanted to push her down, she didn't. She wanted to see what her lover would do. She swayed her hips a little to give Clarke a hint, a hint that she ignored. Her hips rose and fell, but Clarke wouldn't stop her silent exploration. To Anya, it felt like Clarke was waging war against her hips and abs, mapping them with her tongue, battling with her teeth, and finally claimed with her lips. The onslaught continued until Clarke found a very, very sensitive piece of flesh on the outer edge of Anya's hip.

This time, she wouldn't be denied the pleasure of marking her. Clarke bit down and sucked. She knew that this place would be hers and hers alone. No one should see it, even with the low rise pants that Anya seemed to favor. This was going to be her spot.

"Klark," Anya hissed as she continued to suck and bite at the skin.

Looking up, she realized that she needed to move lower. She could feel the wetness dripping and could smell Anya. She smiled at her, letting her blue eye dance. When she saw Anya meet her gaze, she kissed her stomach. Smiling, Clarke started to work her way down. Using her hands to hold Anya's hips still, Clarke moved until she she could part Anya's lips with her nose. She brushed her nose against Anya's clit. Flicking her tongue out, Clarke tasted Anya for the first time.

She moaned into her core. Lapping at her, Clarke started softly. Her hands kept gripping and holding Anya as she bucked and moaned. She wanted to draw it out. She wanted to give Anya so much pleasure that she couldn't see straight after she came. Anya reached down and buried a hand in Clarke's hair. She tugged and pulled as Clarke continued to enjoy her. Clarke learned quickly that moaning against her did something very pleasurable for her. So, as she kept lapping and licking at Anya, she moaned, long and deep.

"Klark, beja," Anya sighed out.

Smiling, Clarke squeezed her right hip hard. It was a silent command. Anya moved her free hand down to tangle it with Clarke's. She gave Clarke's hand a hard squeeze in return and then started pushing it down towards her core. Clarke got the hint and let her go, moving further on her own. Pushing two fingers into Anya, she started going in and out. She didn't give Anya a steady pace. She kept changing it up. She wanted to keep her guessing. She knew that doing this would keep her on edge.

"Klark, ain niron, beja," Anya begged.

Clarke smiled and sucked harder. She turned her fingers around and pistoned them a little harder. She was purposefully making sure not to hit that spot inside that would send Anya over. After a few minutes, she turned her hand again. In this turn, she brushed against that spot and Anya lit up. Smiling bigger, Clarke returned to tasting and sucking. Wrapping her lips around her clit again, Clarke kept her fingers against her spot. As she sucked and lightly bit, she moaned again. Fingers tapping against her, Clarke didn't let up. She kept going until Anya started begging her to stop.

"Klark!" Anya cried out.

Clarke didn't stop. Anya was bucking under her tongue and touch. Clarke was doing her best to hold her down and in place with only one hand. Anya couldn't care about that, she just wanted to find oblivion, and she knew that it would happen soon at the end of Clarke's tongue and fingers. She was chasing it down, hard, and Clarke just kept going.

Finally, Anya broke. She called out to the heavens and stars above as she fell of the edge. Clarke reveled in her delight and desire. She kept going and going. She wanted to make Anya cum again. And, she did before Anya had fully come down from the first. As she was trying for a third, Anya's hand flew to her head.

"Beja, Klark...beja...hod op...beja...Klark, beja, niron, ain houmon, hod op...beja...beja...beja...Klark!" Anya yelled.

Clarke popped up over her and rested her chin on her hands, folded, over Anya's heart and stared at her lover. Anya's eyes were blown as they finally rolled down to meet the mirth in Clarke's azure. They were both smiling.

"Do you feel better now, ain niron?"

"I do," Clarke answered.

"What is it, niron?"

"What does that mean?"

"Niron?" Anya questioned and Clarke slightly nodded. "It means 'lover.' It is a sweeter way to say 'houmon,' I believe."

Clarke smiled. She leaned up and kissed Anya on the lips. Tasting herself on Clarke's lips made her smiled, but then she remembered the stew cooking. Breaking the kiss, Anya turned and looked at the pot. This didn't seem to stop Clarke, though. She kept kissing Anya's neck as Anya tried to gauge if the stew was ready for them to eat.

"Clarke, I need to check the stew," Anya said as she wrapped her arms around the younger woman.

Clarke didn't let up. She kept going. She protested as Anya rolled just enough, hugging Clarke and pushing her into the wall, so she could escape the bed and check on the stew. Clarke lay there on her side admiring Anya's naked form and just couldn't help the smile on her face.

Anya checked the stew and pulled it off the tripod. Setting it on the desk to cool, she finally saw the spot that Clarke had sucked onto her hip. Laughing a little, she turned back to face Clarke more fully. Pointing down to the spot, she cocked an eyebrow.

"Sorry," Clarke told her, not meaning it at all.

"Just wait until I get to mark you, niron. It will never come off," Anya teased her. "For now, though, the stew needs to cool."

"Good. Come back to bed and cuddle me. We can kiss and make out until it's cool enough to eat."

"Make out?" Anya asked.

"Come here and I'll show you," Clarke answered holding up the bear fur and smiling at her freshly loved houmon.