fic: Enemies (Bionic Woman; Sarah/Jaime; adult)
I'm pretty sure I said I wasn't going to write this. I guess I lied. Just don't tell Dom.
Enemies
The Bionic Woman; Sarah/Jaime; adult; 511 words
Jaime likes to pretend they're not the same.
Thanks to luzdeestrellas for looking this over. For the West Wing title project.
~*~
Enemies
Sarah's fingers twist, in and up, and Jaime's hips hitch forward, desperate for more, slow heat licking through her veins. Sarah swallows her gasp, the kiss all teeth and tongue, no mercy and no respite.
Jaime likes to pretend she doesn't know how they got here, how she wound up with Sarah Corvus's tongue in her mouth and hand up her skirt, how each fight they have ends the same way, with the hot sweet flex of Sarah's cunt around her fingers, and the breathless, aching pleasure of Sarah's mouth on her clit. She likes to pretend they're not the same, that she's still better, somehow, that she's not as broken, as used, as Sarah is, that she'll somehow be saved where Sarah is damned.
Jaime grinds down, fucking herself on Sarah's hand, and Sarah laughs, her teeth sharp against the tender skin of Jaime's throat, hard enough to sting but quick enough not to bruise. Sarah knows exactly what Jaime can take and gives it to her, hard and fast. Jaime slaps a hand back against the wall, fingers seeking purchase as the tension inside her crests and breaks, flooding her with hot pleasure she feels all the way down to her toes.
Holding Jaime's gaze in silent challenge, Sarah licks her fingers clean, full lips curved in a smug smile Jaime would like to knock right off her face. She has other, better methods now, though, holds it together enough to push Sarah's jeans down and slide her hand up the smooth length of her leg to curl into the neat triangle of honey-colored hair at the apex of her thighs. She dips her fingers into the wet heat there, making Sarah gasp and curse.
She's not gentle; the first time she was too angry, the second, Sarah mocked her for it, asked if they were going steady or if they were going to fuck--and she's not careful. She thumbs Sarah's clit roughly, feels the tension building inside her own body again, as well, still ashamed at how much this gets her off, and when Sarah eyes her knowingly, she swings them around so Sarah's back is to the wall and she can grind against her thigh. When Sarah throws her head back and moans low in her throat, cunt clenching like a fist around Jaime's fingers, it's Jaime's turn to laugh. She keeps thrusting, gets herself off again, fingers still curled inside Sarah, the heel of her hand pressing up against Sarah's clit, riding it out together.
She pulls her hand away, licks her fingers the way Sarah had, the taste still strange and bitter on her tongue. They trade salt-sharp kisses that taste of come and anger, fingers tangling in each other's hair, while unspoken words--insults, threats, recriminations--are trapped in the humid air between their mouths.
When Sarah zips her jeans up and disappears, Jaime promises herself she'll never do it again, but at night, when she replays the encounter in her mind as her hand slips into her panties, she knows she's lying.
end
~*~
Comments are always welcome.
~*~
Enemies
The Bionic Woman; Sarah/Jaime; adult; 511 words
Jaime likes to pretend they're not the same.
Thanks to luzdeestrellas for looking this over. For the West Wing title project.
~*~
Enemies
Sarah's fingers twist, in and up, and Jaime's hips hitch forward, desperate for more, slow heat licking through her veins. Sarah swallows her gasp, the kiss all teeth and tongue, no mercy and no respite.
Jaime likes to pretend she doesn't know how they got here, how she wound up with Sarah Corvus's tongue in her mouth and hand up her skirt, how each fight they have ends the same way, with the hot sweet flex of Sarah's cunt around her fingers, and the breathless, aching pleasure of Sarah's mouth on her clit. She likes to pretend they're not the same, that she's still better, somehow, that she's not as broken, as used, as Sarah is, that she'll somehow be saved where Sarah is damned.
Jaime grinds down, fucking herself on Sarah's hand, and Sarah laughs, her teeth sharp against the tender skin of Jaime's throat, hard enough to sting but quick enough not to bruise. Sarah knows exactly what Jaime can take and gives it to her, hard and fast. Jaime slaps a hand back against the wall, fingers seeking purchase as the tension inside her crests and breaks, flooding her with hot pleasure she feels all the way down to her toes.
Holding Jaime's gaze in silent challenge, Sarah licks her fingers clean, full lips curved in a smug smile Jaime would like to knock right off her face. She has other, better methods now, though, holds it together enough to push Sarah's jeans down and slide her hand up the smooth length of her leg to curl into the neat triangle of honey-colored hair at the apex of her thighs. She dips her fingers into the wet heat there, making Sarah gasp and curse.
She's not gentle; the first time she was too angry, the second, Sarah mocked her for it, asked if they were going steady or if they were going to fuck--and she's not careful. She thumbs Sarah's clit roughly, feels the tension building inside her own body again, as well, still ashamed at how much this gets her off, and when Sarah eyes her knowingly, she swings them around so Sarah's back is to the wall and she can grind against her thigh. When Sarah throws her head back and moans low in her throat, cunt clenching like a fist around Jaime's fingers, it's Jaime's turn to laugh. She keeps thrusting, gets herself off again, fingers still curled inside Sarah, the heel of her hand pressing up against Sarah's clit, riding it out together.
She pulls her hand away, licks her fingers the way Sarah had, the taste still strange and bitter on her tongue. They trade salt-sharp kisses that taste of come and anger, fingers tangling in each other's hair, while unspoken words--insults, threats, recriminations--are trapped in the humid air between their mouths.
When Sarah zips her jeans up and disappears, Jaime promises herself she'll never do it again, but at night, when she replays the encounter in her mind as her hand slips into her panties, she knows she's lying.
end
~*~
Comments are always welcome.
~*~