DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but my imagination. Characters belong to Open Book Productions.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Spoilers: Season 2, Episode 4. From Ani's POV.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
FEEDBACK: To funkymonkeygal84[at]gmail.com
Your lips slide against my mouth. Crushing. Bruising.
The water cascades down our bodies. I try to keep you close, but you just slip away. It's not just the soap slathered on our skin. But, I'm dripping wet.
I'm dripping wet, from head to toe. I'm dripping wet, from ass to clit. Desire escaping, slipping down my thighs, coating, covering my sex.
Your hands tug my hair, pulling my head back and exposing my neck for the kill. That mouth is on my body again. Licking my earlobe. Sucking on my tongue.
Your tongue delves into my warm mouth. Demanding. Seeking.
I don't know all the answers, but I do know the signs. Something is wrong; we're wrong. But, then why do we feel so right? Why does this feel *sooo* right?
Oh God. Oh Lara.
Suddenly, I'm against the wall. I'm holding, hanging onto you. My thigh wraps up, wraps around your hip, your heart. You thrust those fingers, long and thin, into my slick heat. I pulse around your plunging.
Quickly, you drop to your knees, sucking my clit, my heart. I can't hold on much longer. We can't hold on much longer. You take as I tumble, licking every last drop.
The water washes everything away but you and me and us.
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