Warning: contains spanking
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"Clarke."
The way Lexa says her name like that, the 'k' popping against the roof of her mouth, makes Clarke shiver. If she wasn't already wet, she'd be slick just at the sound. The casual dominance lacing every syllable.
"Look at me," Lexa says, her voice softer, but still firm. Clarke bites her lip glances up, finally, feels her face flush with welcome heat. Lexa's gaze is soft, like it always is when she's looking at Clarke, but there's authority in it, too, something unflappable and determined that makes Clarke's knees turn to jelly. "Lie down across my lap."
The soft command makes Clarke's heart skip a beat and suddenly she can feel the organ hammering in every part of her body, fingertips to toes. Lexa doesn't smirk, but there's a gentleness in her eyes, something practically shy, that reassures Clarke that it's going to be okay. That this is safe. That she's loved.
This is different for them, new, and Clarke is feeling just as timid about this next step as Lexa is. Lexa pats her lap gently, and Clarke nods, exhaling shakily as she moves to stretch herself across Lexa's naked lap. The boxspring groans and squeaks in protest and she lets out a nervous chuckle, trying to adjust her position so her forearms and knees take some of the weight off of Lexa's thighs.
"Just relax," Lexa says softly, running her fingers through Clarke's hair gently, tickling the back of her neck with her fingertips before tracing soft, loving patterns down her spine. Clarke feels the tension slide out of her shoulders and upper back, following Lexa's soothing trail. Lexa's fingers still at the waistband of Clarke's boy shorts where she teases under the elastic for a moment before skipping over the material entirely and continuing her trek down Clarke's legs.
"Stretch your legs out, Clarke."
Clarke complies wordlessly, feeling boneless already as Lexa's fingers smooth down to the backs of her knees and over her calves. Any worry that she's crushing Lexa's lap flutters out of her mind and follows the spiral of pleasure Lexa's fingers leave in their wake.
"You're doing so good, sweetheart," Lexa murmurs, running her hands back up Clarke's back and then down again to her ass. She massages gently, never gripping too roughly. Clarke hums with delight at the attention, wriggles a little so her position on Lexa's lap is more comfortable, and sinks back into the mattress, crossing her ankles. Lexa chuckles quietly and pats Clarke's ass lightly, sending a little thrill up Clarke's spine. "Ready?"
"Uh huh," Clarke sighs, turning her head to look over her shoulder at Lexa, "hit me, Lexa."
Clarke watches long enough to see Lexa's face flush and her bottom lip disappear between her teeth. Grinning, she turns back and braces her forehead against her arms and waits, trying not to tense in anticipation. Lexa's fingers thread through Clarke's hair and she tugs, gently, anchoring them together. Clarke moans with delight.
The first hit is soft, almost too gentle to do anything but make Clarke gasp at its suddenness. The next ones are just as light, practically teasing a sting against her ass, and Clarke groans quietly in frustration after the fifth blow is still just as gentle.
"Babe," Clarke sighs and lifts her hips, "I want you to beat my ass, okay? Don't fucking hold back."
The words have their desired effect. She hears Lexa moan and curse under her breath, feels Lexa's palm smooth over her ass quickly before it's gone. A whine is cut off in Clarke's throat when Lexa's hand comes down, harder, makes contact with Clarke's ass and burns.
"Fuck ," Clarke chokes out, a tremble rocking through her entire body.
"Is that—"
"God, yes, Lexa," Clarke gasps, "just like that, hit me like that, please."
