And Clarke did the only thing she could think of to shut her up, engagement be damned. She kissed her. She slammed her lips into Lexa's so hard that Lexa went crashing backwards into the door. Barely a second went by and Lexa's tongue was in her mouth, and she was grabbing Clarke by the back of the neck and pulling her even closer. It was violent, it was angry and it was sexy as shit. Clarke ground her hips into Lexa, lifted her leg up, and Lexa grabbed it and pulled her closer still. Their mouths slanted across each other, teeth knocking together, they moved apart, took quick gulps of air and went right back to it. They couldn't get enough of each other. Lexa moved Clarke backwards, her free hand grabbing Clarke's ass, sending them both banging into a shaker cabinet, sending its contents all over the floor. Lexa's lips and tongue found their way to Clarke's neck, leaving a hot, wet trail down to her pulse point. Clarke moaned and pulled Lexa's lips back to hers, sucking on them, thrusting her tongue inside.
Then, as quickly as it started, it stopped. Clarke pulled away. Horrified at herself. "Shit." It took all her might to disengaged her body, which wanted things she couldn't have.
"Holy fuck, you kissed me," Lexa said, clearly stunned by the whole incident.
"I did not, you kissed me!" Clarke tried to deflect.
"What? My lips stayed over here the whole time. They didn't move."
"Oh, they moved." Clarke ran a shaky hand through her hair. "Jesus Christ. We were drunk, that's what it was."
"You said you weren't drunk."
"Well, obviously I was wrong."
Lexa looked down at her thumb, "You sew pretty good when you're drunk," Lexa said to try and lighten the moment. She leaned against the wall for support, her heart still pounding in her ears.
"Look, this didn't happen, got it?" Clarke was trying hard to banish this whole episode from her mind, as she paced around the small space. "There was no kiss."
"Oh, there was a kiss. A pretty, fucking, good kiss." Lexa felt like grabbing her again, her pacing was making her dizzy, and her lips were lonely.
"I can't be kissing anybody, I'm engaged! There was no kiss." She glanced at Lexa and saw she was getting no help.
"Maybe we should kiss, just to make sure that it wasn't a kiss." Lexa's drunk logic made perfect sense to her drunk self.
Clarke took time out from her pacing, and stood in front of her. "Really? That's your solution? That we kiss again?"
"Yes," Lexa said. God, she wanted to bury her face in the cleavage that had been haunting her all...night...long.
Clarke felt a little panic rise in her chest, because right now, that's exactly what she wanted to do. "It would be stupid to kiss again." God, so stupid she was engaged.
"Stupid is a red flag word, Clarke," Lexa said, liking the way Clarke's name sounded on her lips.
Clarke gazed at Lexa, battling her inner demons, battling this sudden hunger that had flared up, that was suddenly consuming her. She was feeling her will power ebb away. Maybe Lexa was right, maybe they needed to kiss again to establish that the first time was not a kiss. Sound logic. It was really quite scientific, wasn't it? Fuck it.
And she moved in and captured Lexa's lips with her own, her tongue making its way into her mouth, both of them stumbling into the shaker cabinet once again, and the last remaining bottles and lotions fell on the floor. Clarke pressed her body, full length into Lexa's and she heard the brunette moan into her mouth. Suddenly Lexa's lips were gone, and she felt them on the bare skin of her exposed chest, felt her hands grasping at her breasts, teasing her nipples, and she sucked in her breath. All she wanted right now was take her shirt off and feel Lexa's lips all over her skin.
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Love Hate Relationship
FantasyClarke is a surgeon who's engaged to her best friend Finn. Lexa owns a dog boarding business and she's a little salty about relationships and surgeons. Clarke's a cat person, Lexa's a dog person, so of course they hate each other until they dream a...