Chapter Text
The following Saturday Lexa found herself knocking on Clarke’s apartment door yet again, standing in an old grey tee-shirt and black running shorts. This time she didn’t have any chips – just the extra change of clothes she was instructed to bring.
It didn’t take long till Clarke answered, wearing a big grin along with a paint splattered white shirt and matching jean cutoffs. “Lexa! You’re right on time, I’m just finishing getting ready, come on in.” She waved Lexa inside as she closed the door, and Lexa scanned the area for a third time. No remnants of the party remained from Wednesday, but her attention was mostly drawn to the large foam mat that lay in the center of the living room floor.
Lexa pointed with her chin, “Have you been practicing your break-dancing, Clarke?” She looked over her shoulder and grinned as Clarke came up beside her, “Because if you have, I’d like to see your progress.”
“Ha, ha, no, Miss Jokester, I have not been practicing my break-dancing – as if I need to practice, pff.”
“Oh, so you really can break-dance, Clarke?”
“Of course.” Clarke walked into the living room and picked up a large plastic sheet, “I break something nearly every time I dance.” She winked as she spread it over the mat.
Lexa stared at the plastic, “Well now, how messy do you expect this to be?”
“It’s better to over prepare than to under achieve, as my Granny always use to say.”
“Uh, I’m sorry Clarke, but I’m not sure that that saying makes any sense at all.”
Clarke shrugged, “Yea, but it’s an honored Griffin tradition to make up sayings to pass down through the generations.” She looked at Lexa as she stood up again, “Not all of them make sense or are even helpful, but that’s the beauty of it.”
“An honored Griffin family tradition, huh? Do you have one to pass down?”
Clarke walked over to her kitchen counter and picked up some tubes of paint before coming back and placing them on the edges of the plastic, “Well not quite yet, no.” She gestured for Lexa to come stand on the plastic with her and smiled, “But I’m brainstorming a few.”
Lexa stepped onto the mats and plastic, “Oh yea? Maybe I can help. What are your best brainstorms?”
“Well one is ‘You may be the Chancellor, but I’m in charge’, and another is ‘Right now, they think only one of us is scared’.”
Lexa nodded, “Well I can see where both get their merits – although I’m not exactly sure why you’re calling someone a ‘Chancellor’ in the first place, or who ‘they’ are.”
“Like I said, they don’t have to make sense. Besides, it rolls off the tongue nicely.” Clarke selected a tube of paint, “Now take off your shirt.”
~
Lexa had Clarke pinned on her back, paint partly smeared over her torso as she held Clarke’s wrists – and paint smeared hands - away from her body.
Clarke huffed a laugh, “Come on, don’t tell me The Big Tough Trooper is scared of a little more paint, is she?”
“Clarke it’s cold. I don’t like cold.”
“So cold you couldn’t hold still for five seconds without flipping us over?”
“Well I don’t see you shirtless and covered in cold paint, so no. I couldn’t.”
“Fine, let me up and I’ll take my shirt off and you can paint on me, seeing as you’ve already ruined what I was going to do any way,” Clarke said with a hint of disapproval as she looked at the dark blue smeared in a streak across Lexa’s abs. It was going to be such a pretty night sky, too.
Lexa got a twinkle in her eye as she grinned, and leaned back, pulling Clarke with her a bit. “Deal. Lift up your arms.”
“Excuse me?”
“Sit up and keep your arms out, I’ll help so you don’t get paint on everything.”
Clarke sighed and rolled her eyes as she complied, “You realize that’s why I told you to wear clothing you wouldn’t mind getting ruined, right? My clothes are no different, you know.”
“Ummhumm, of course.” Lexa grabbed the hem of Clarke’s shirt as she started to drag it over her body, only to stop when Clarke’s mouth and nose were free, leaving the shirt stuck on her head, covering her eyes and tangled around her upper arms.
“Hey Lex, you know the shirt’s still on, right? I can’t really see right now,” she waved her arms around fruitlessly above her head where the shirt had them trapped, “or get my arms free.”
“But Clarke, I can see, and I’m quite enjoying the view.” She was, Clarke was always lovely, but Lexa especially enjoyed it when she was sans shirt. “You know,” she paused and breathed into Clarke’s ear as her hands hovered over Clarke’s chest, not touching but close enough that Clarke could most likely sense they were there, “It would be a shame if you ruined such a nice bra with paint. You mind if I take it off for you?”
Clarke let out a breathy laugh, “Ever the thoughtful person, aren’t you?” Lexa grinned as she nipped at the ear she was talking to though the shirt. Clarke shivered a little at the contact, “Go ahead. If you can get it off while my arms are still stuck above my head, that is.”
Lexa leaned back a bit, “hum, I see your point. That is quite the dilemma. Well,” she moved forward and reached around Clarke, unhooking her bra in one easy motion, “We’ll just have to improvise, won’t we?” With that she pushed Clarke back down fully, and then raised her bra up over her chest, and up her arms as far as it would go, entangling it with the shirt and making it even more difficult for Clarke to move her arms. “There, all out of the way.”
“Yea, for you maybe. Are you forgetting that I still can’t see? Or move my arms?”
“Not at all. I remember just fine.” Lexa leaned lower over Clarke as her hands started exploring all the exposed skin, her mouth hovering over Clarke’s, “Maybe I don’t want you to be able to see the art I’m going to make right away, Clarke. Maybe I don’t want you moving your arms and ruining it.”
Clarke inhaled as she felt the warm breath brush her lips, as Lexa’s hands grazed the sides of her breasts. “Fair enough, I’ll try not to ruin any of your art then.”
“Good, thank you.” With that, Lexa closed the gap and kissed her, nibbling and sliding her tongue along Clarke’s bottom lip at the same time her hands moved to Clarke’s nipples, rolling them in her fingers, causing Clarke to inhale and arch into the touch. When Clarke opened her mouth to breath, Lexa took the opportunity to slip in and tease Clarke’s tongue with her own, starting a back and forth between them.
Lexa didn’t indulge in Clarke’s mouth long before running along her jaw to her neck, and sucking on the soft spot below her ear.
Clarke hummed in pleasure, “Not that I’m complaining or anything, but I’m not sure you’re understanding the concept of ‘Art’ here, Lexa.”
Lexa smiled into Clarke’s skin as she replied, “Don’t worry, I’m just getting warmed up. I’m familiarizing myself with the canvas, you know.”
Clarke nodded once as Lexa’s head traveled down toward Clarke’s right breast, “Good point – carry on.”
“Gladly.” With that, Lexa sucked Clarke’s nipple into her mouth, rolling it around her tongue as her left hand cupped Clarke’s head, thumb running along her jaw, and her right hand played with Clarke’s left nipple. One last twist to each, and Lexa switched her mouth and hands, giving each breast equal attention, while her hand kneaded the soft flesh.
“So if this is the warm up, when’s the actual art going to be happening?”
Lexa was happy to note that Clarke’s voice was a little breathy and uneven, causing Lexa to leave her tits and kiss her senseless while she held her head in her hands. When she came up for air, she finally sat back, scooting off of Clarke some, causing her to frown – “well Clarke, I’m so glad you asked. But before I can get started,” She tugged on Clarke’s paint splattered cut-offs, “these will have to come off. For art.”
“Well if it’s in the name of art, please, be my guest. Who am I to stand in the way of art?” She said as she arched her hips off the floor, giving Lexa the access she needed to unbutton them and slip them off, which she did, along with Clarke’s panties, before she settled on her knees between Clarke’s legs.
Lexa chuckled, holding Clarke’s red lace boy-shorts up, pleased with her discovery. “Well I certainly don’t think we should let these get ruined, should we?”
Clarke shrugged as best she could with her arms trussed up, “I like my underwear to be sexy, what can I say?”
“Humm yes, I can see that,” Lexa said as she ran her hand up Clarke’s now bare thigh, stopping at the hip and traveling back down to her knee, “The wrapping has to matched the wrapped, as it were.”
Clarke squirmed as Lexa watched, a slight red blush forming on her chest, announcing Clarke’s worked up state. “Yea, something like that.”
Lexa smiled as she observed Clarke laid out below her, slightly panting and moving her head side to side, probably hoping to get a look at Lexa, at anything really, that would let her know what was happening. She looked between Clarke’s legs, noticing the wetness that was starting to flow from her waxed pussy, and she felt a similar tug of longing between her own legs. She hummed, “Well Clarke, looks like you’re nearly all warmed up,” she paused, “and I see you weren’t lying about the regular waxing,” with that she swiped her middle finger between Clarke’s inner folds, collecting some juice and causing Clarke to gasp and buck a little at the sudden gesture. Lexa smiled and half closed her eyes, enjoying the silky feel of Clarke’s warm wetness on her finger. “You know, Clarke,” she said as she swirled her finger teasingly around her clit, and watched as Clarke writhed under the slight touches, “I’m a vagina connoisseur, of sorts.”
Clarke let out a breathy laugh, “Oh really. And what’s that? Similar to a food connoisseur, I’m guessing.”
“Well, there is eating involved, certainly. But not food, exactly.” She paused for a moment, as if to contemplate something, “Although you could consider it a dessert, I suppose.”
Clarke hissed as Lexa dipped her finger back into her opening, gathering some more juice and teasing her entrance, “I think I get your meaning.”
“Good. So you wouldn’t mind if I have a taste, would you?”
“Please, do.” Clarke almost whined when Lexa removed her hand, and Lexa smiled at the woman struggling for composure beneath her.
~
Clarke couldn’t see what was happening, but she could hear Lexa humming with approval and she wiggled back and forth trying to get a glimpse through her shirt to no avail. She felt more than heard Lexa move, and suddenly her voice was in her ear again, low and seductive, as one of her hands continued to massage and tickle Clarke’s lower stomach and thighs. “Clarke, you taste wonderful.”
“But you didn’t even taste me,” Clarke blurted before her mind could catch up with her mouth. She heard Lexa chuckle throatily in her ear.
“Of course I did, do you think I would lie about something like that?” Lexa’s chest, still clad in a bra, pressed into Clarke’s as she moved closer, “I could taste you on my finger.” With the hand that was on her stomach she moved down and swiped at her pussy again, and Clarke bit back a whine at the fleeting contact, “Why, what were you expecting, Clarke?”
“You damn well know what I was expecting, Lexa.” Clarke wanted it to come out firm, but she wasn’t sure she captured that with the low quality of her voice. It came out sultry and needy even to her. Damn it.
“Maybe I do. Maybe I want you to say it.” Lexa’s breath was still in her ear making it hard to think, and the hand that returned to playing with Clarke’s opening wasn’t helping the matter.
“Lexa.” Clarke tried to control her breathing but knew she was failing, “I want you to taste me with your mouth, not off your fingers.” After a moment of Lexa not changing positions Clarke added, “Please.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Lexa moved down Clarke’s body, with what seemed like agonizing slowness to Clarke, “I guess I could do that.” Clarke could feel Lexa’s hot breath on her sensitive and wet lower lips and she shuddered again, this time in anticipation as well as need.
~
Lexa had intended to draw this out more, but she was teasing herself as much as Clarke and after getting a taste, and then breathing in Clarke’s delicious aroma it was too much for her as well. She did manage to give a few light nips to Clarke’s inner thighs, but when she saw that brought a fresh fluid to flow from Clarke’s entrance, she couldn’t hold herself back; she had to have Clarke on her tongue.
Flattening her tongue, she began with a broad swipe that started at the bottom of Clarke’s opening and made her way up, stopping short of her clit, which was beginning to peek from behind its hood. She dragged her tongue back down, enjoying the taste, and the view she had of Clarke from between her legs; spread out and quivering, every now and then arching and moving about and making noise and crinkling the plastic, to try to get purchase or to get Lexa to go deeper, Lexa wasn’t sure. Probably both. She could also see that Clarke was working to control her breathing, making Lexa want to redouble her efforts. She swirled her tongue around Clarke’s entrance, barley dipping in, before moving to suck on her outer lips, nibbling and licking as she pushed Clarke’s thighs further apart. Clarke responded by pulling her heels in and bracing her feet as her knees fell wide, opening herself to Lexa as much as she could.
Lexa hummed, smiling, “How considerate of you.”
“Anything to help,” Clarke all but gasped, as she used her new leverage to buck a little higher into Lexa’s mouth.
Lexa gave Clarke’s lower lips one more sloppy open-mouthed kiss, before moving to Clarke’s clit. She latched on with her lips encircling her clit and hood, humming and sending vibrations through it as she gently flicked the soft tissue and nerve endings with the tip of her tongue. Clarke arched her back at the sensations, almost dislodging Lexa, but she held on and pushed Clarke’s stomach back down with one hand, while the other one came up to tease her opening, before slowly pushing her middle finger in and feeling Clarke clench around the digit. Lexa shivered at the feeling of Clarke warm and wet surrounding her, before she curled her finger and found her g-spot, stroking it as she continued to slowly lash Clarke’s clit with her tongue.
Clarke was panting now, a sheen of sweat covering her skin as she mumbled obscenities under her breath, multiple variations of ‘fuck’ and ‘so close’ from what Lexa could hear, so she increased the speed on her clit and stroked her finger faster. She was rewarded for her efforts when she felt Clarke clench and release her finger rapidly, and she watched as Clarke curled forward and slamming back down, causing the plastic to crinkle loudly again, unable to do anything but ride out the waves of her orgasm with her hands still tied and Lexa holding her hips down.
Lexa slowed her movements, milking Clarke gently through the gush of fluid as she recovered, body no longer thrashing around but still breathing heavy. “Well, fuck,” was all she was able to manage after regaining control of her breathing.
Lexa chuckled, pleased and now thoroughly worked up herself, “Well fucked indeed.” She leaned back on her heels, seeing Clarke smiling ruefully, arms above her head, knees spread wide, chest flushed, and Lexa’s own finger still buried to the knuckle deep inside her. She sighed, almost mournfully, “Too bad you can’t see this. Beautiful, really.”
“See what? Me in my debauched state? Yea,” she laughed a little, “I’m sure that’s an image for the ages.”
“It is, trust me.” Lexa grinned, “I think my art beats your art.”
“I am not your art, Lexa.”
Lexa snorted, slowly withdrawing her finger as she watched Clarke readjusted to the empty feeling. “Art that does not know it is art is still art, Clarke.” She popped her finger into her mouth, licking it clean, enjoying the tangy-salty-sweetness found there, and hummed, “this art even has the added benefit of tasting delicious.” She pushed her face back into Clarke’s pussy and cleaned the rest of her come up in long, gentle strokes.
Lexa heard Clarke’s breathing hitch at the suddenness of her hot tongue on her still sensitive flesh, but she soon relaxed into the feeling of the slow massage. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to eat the art, Lexa.”
“Well, the wonderful thing about my art, Clarke,” She said as she finished and crawled back up so they were face to face, “Is that even if it gets finished or ruined,” she started tugging on the shirt till Clarke’s eyes were finally free, even if her arms were not, “I can always start over. And that’s why my art is better.” She gave her a lopsided grin, presenting her face – eyes blown dark and wide with desire, cocky smile and the remnants of come still on her chin – as the first thing Clarke was able to see.
Clarke got a determined and challenging look on her face, “Oh, you haven’t even seen my art yet, Lexa.”
“Mmm, and I look forward to seeing it.” She eyed Clarke’s hands, still smeared in cerulean blue, “But first, I think a shower’s in order for you.” She grinned down at Clarke, “Because you’re kind of a fantastic mess.”
Clarke huffed, “Fine, I’ll shower, but only because you’re too childish for me to actually paint at the moment.” She wiggled her arms, “Now free me, childish wrench.”
Lexa raised an eyebrow, “Childish is not how I would describe what just happened. Besides, I’m not the one who resorted to name calling.” Clarke stuck her tongue out and Lexa chuckled as she reached out to help free Clarke, “Yes, I am definitely the one acting out here.” Once the shirt and bra were successfully off, Lexa mock bowed her head and flung out her arms. “Milady. I hope my services have been up to your standards.”
Clarke put on a haughty expression while she stretched her arms about, “They were passable. For a peasant.”
Lexa raised her head, earnest expression on her face, “Well now, I am just happy to serve Queen Clarke in any humble way I can. It’s an honor for such a lowly one as I to perform any menial task I can.”
They kept their expressions, earnest and haughty, for a few more seconds before both busted out laughing. Clarke spoke first, “Oh, so eating me out was a ‘menial’ task was it? So sorry to have you make such a sacrifice, although you seemed pretty eager to carry it out.”
Lexa shrugged, “I was playing along, thought it was appropriate.”
“Well I don’t know about that being appropriate, but I did like being called ‘Queen Clarke’. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
“Of course you’re a Queen.” Lexa sat up straight and put a hand to her chest, “After all, I only date the very best, and Royalty is certainly up there.”
“Ha, so what’s that make you then?”
Lexa stood up and stretched her arms over her head, “Me? Well I’m the Commander, obviously. You know that.”
“Right, well help me up Commander, I’ve got a hot shower to get to.” Lexa grabbed Clarke’s outstretched hand and pulled her up, bringing their bodies flush against each other. “It’s like a regular shower, but with me in it.”
Lexa grinned, “Well I can’t argue with that logic.”
Clarke turned and walked towards the bathroom, “No, you really can’t.” She paused when she got to the door and looked over her shoulder at Lexa, who hadn’t moved to follow her – well, except for her eyes which where currently on her ass. Clarke smirked, “Well are you going to stand there staring all day or are you going to join me?”
Lexa’s grin widened as she brought her eyes back up to Clarke’s face, stepping forward and reaching to unhook her bra in the process, “I thought you’d never ask.”