An Encounter

2

Clarke is intrigued.

This gorgeous woman -with the sad, beautiful green eyes- can’t keep her hands off her. She didn’t even have to flood her with pheromones like she usually did. Just a glance and a tiny puff of her natural perfume, and the woman was immediately enthralled. This is exciting; usually the blonde has to work at it a little to get someone this worked up. Not that it mattered if her, uh, donorswere sexually charged really. It just helped get them somewhere private, so she could feed in peace. Feeding on people’s memories isn’t exactly something she can do without drawing attention to herself, especially if there are people around.

She finally gets her key to turn in the lock, the door open, and the woman attached to her neck into her apartment. The green-eyed beauty pushes her against the door once it’s closed, grinning into the tender skin of her neck before sucking on that one spot that always makes her knees weak. Everything is hot, muscles are clenching in anticipation, and she’s in that headspace she gets into when her senses are overwhelmed with pleasure. There’s nips and kisses and licks, hands roaming, clothes being tossed off, hair being tugged, slick skin against slick skin.

Clarke attaches her teeth to the soft spot between the girl’s shoulder and neck, biting gently, then harder when the girl lets out the most filthy sound she’s heard in awhile. She catches her as her knees give out, letting out a throaty chuckle as she leads her to her bedroom. The brunette tries to take charge, pushing against her towards the bed. Clarke shakes her head, a smirk on her lips, and turns them so the girl lands on her back with a huff. The stranger’s legs are hanging off the side, and Clarke stares down at her for a moment.

She’s gorgeous, all tan skin stretched over toned muscle. Her breasts are the perfect size to fit one in her palm, and she proves it as she bends down, licking up the girl’s neck as she kneads the flesh in her hands. She leaves her right hand where it is, the other moving down to the apex of her thighs, slowly, slowly. She rests her fingers on the curls she finds there, moving her mouth up to nip along the girl’s sharp jaw.

“I don’t normally do this,” she says, and Clarke sits up a little to look into green eyes. She rolls the hardening nipple in her fingers, tugging just a little, scratching at the curls below, dipping her fingers closer to the heat there, but not quite touching. The girl moans and pushes up into her hands, and Clarke smirks.

“We can stop, you can go if you want,” she offers, leaning back in and scraping her teeth under her jaw.

“No! Don’t- I-” She can’t seem to get the words out, and Clarke chuckles.

“If you’re sure,” she husks out into her ear, licking at the shell of it, “then I’ll just continue.”

“I- I’m sure, don’t stop,” the brunette chokes out, clutching at Clarke’s shoulders, threading long, slender fingers through her hair.

Clarke grins and kisses her way down a slender neck to collarbones, nipping at them, biting them, sucking the succulent skin between her lips. The noises leaving the green eyed beauty’s lips makes the blonde shiver, and she moves down to attach her lips to the nipple her fingers aren’t pulling at, scraping her teeth over the bud just barely before running the flat of her tongue over it. She shudders at the heat and slick she feels when she pushes her fingers lower, revelling in the desperate moan that spills from her lover’s lips. The moan pitches higher as she takes the other woman’s nipple between her lips and sucks, just a little, kneading the other breast with her whole palm.

The brunette whimpers as Clarke pulls away, making her way down the toned, slender body under her, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses in her wake. She nestles in between the woman’s legs, pushing her thighs apart and revealing her prize.

Clarke doesn’t do this, normally. She doesn’t talk, cuddle, or any of the post-sex things couples do, because she’s never part of a couple, not really. But here she lay, her arms wrapped around the brunette she’d spent most the night ravishing, stroking her skin and tracing her tattoos with her fingers. She’s spooning her, her body wrapped around the younger woman’s, soaking in her warmth as they lie there.

“I never do this,” the brunette says, quietly repeating her earlier sentiment and unknowingly voicing Clarke’s thought. She’s caressing Clarke’s arm with her fingertips, carefully, softly, like she’ll bruise the skin if she presses any harder. The movements raise goosebumps on the blonde’s skin, but they’re ignored. “This, sex with a stranger thing, I mean.” Clarke stays quiet, figuring if the woman spoke up, she had something to say. “I, I’m trying to, branch out, I guess. Experiment, find new ways of, of doing things. Trying new things.”

Clarke hums. “Nothing wrong with trying new things,” she says against the woman’s shoulder before kissing the skin there, tasting salt.

The woman is quiet for a bit again, and Clarke thinks she fell asleep. Then she speaks again, an obvious pain in her voice. “My gir- my girlfriend left me. Um, ex, I guess. For someone else.”

She says nothing else, and soon pulls away and starts looking for her clothes. Clarke stays in the bed for a bit longer, watching the gorgeous creature in her room as she pulls on her jeans and tee-shirt, enjoying the view for just a bit longer. Then she sighs and gets up as well, going to the bathroom before digging out a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt for herself. She goes to the woman, standing close, pressing against her back as she trails her hands up and around, feeling the muscles that are hidden under the fabric of the shirt. “Take a walk with me?”

The brunette agrees, and they leave the apartment, walking down the street arm-in-arm. They stay silent, just enjoying each other’s proximity, taking in the evening as the sun sets behind the cityscape to their left. It’s almost a pretty sight, but that’s not what Clarke is looking at.

She’s studying the brunette in the dying light, how the shadows make her jaw sharper, make her cheekbones more prominent. The transformation is breathtaking, even with the pain and sadness clouding those green eyes. Clarke chews on her lip before opening her mouth, the words just slipping free without her permission. “If you could forget it, would you want to?” She doesn’t specify, knowing that the woman understands her question.

The brunette is quiet for a bit as they walk, her thoughts on a pretty girl with curly hair and dark skin, bright brown eyes and plump lips. Clarke dips in to watch the memories, just a little, enough to see how happy Lexa was with Costia. Enough to see just how hurt Lexa is, knowing Costia doesn’t love her as much as she thought (enough to learn her lover’s name, and the name of the woman who shattered her heart). Clarke’s heart hurts for the green eyed beauty at her side, watching the memory of when Costia officially moved out, leaving behind an empty husk that used to be filled with such light.

When Lexa speaks again, it’s in a whisper, almost wistfully. “I would, actually. It hurts, so much.”

Clarke doesn’t think she was meant to hear that, but she takes it. She stops Lexa with a hand on her arm, turning her to face her. “Maybe I can help,” she says, reaching one hand up to brush against Lexa’s temple as she leans in for one last kiss. She pulls at the memories of Costia, drawing them out as she licks into Lexa’s mouth, tasting her for the last time as she takes away the cause of her pain. Then she draws out the memory of the last few hours, before turning and walking away, heading back home.