Inamorata (34/36) – WMC fic

PAIRING: Lindsay/Cindy
DISCLAIMER: Characters, not mine. Story, mine.

When they made it to the loft, Cindy turned on her, rising up for a vehement kiss. Lindsay could only hang on while Cindy’s mouth moved against hers, gracefully urging her to take the leap from a place of fear and disconnection to a place of trust and union. And, prudent or not, Lindsay wanted to go.

Like a dance, she allowed herself to be led, turned and walked backward toward the bed, until her knees hit the edge and she sunk down onto it. She held back a whimper as Cindy’s lips deserted hers, and watched her partner slowly back away, stopping at a few feet, something poised and gripping in her demeanor.

Cindy unbuttoned the shirt she was wearing slowly, revealing an inch of skin at a time, her eyes never straying from Lindsay’s. With each movement of Cindy’s hands, there was empowerment. Cindy was taking back control, little by little, piece by piece. She’d been made to do this once. Now she was doing it by choice, because she wanted to. For her.

Lindsay fought the lightheadedness that the slow striptease produced. It was in wondering why this felt so much like the first time for them that Lindsay realized… it was the first time. This wasn’t some frenzied, mostly-clothed experience squeezed in against a wall based on pure physical necessity. This was it. This was their first time together, the way that it was supposed to be.

That knowledge was nearly overwhelming, as was Cindy, as she removed the last articles of her clothing and came forward, exposed in more than just body. She was open, consenting, and she was so beautiful that Lindsay felt undeserving and frustratingly mute.

Cindy’s eyes held hers as she leaned down, her fingertips moving under the hem of her shirt. She tugged upward. Lindsay obeyed the unspoken command, lifting her arms and let Cindy pull the garment over her head. Cindy tossed it roughly in the direction of her own clothes.

For the first time, Cindy’s eyes abandoned hers, trailing gradually down her body. Lindsay saw the quickening of her inhalations, the obvious desire. It eased some of the lingering apprehension. But not all of it. Cindy wanted her, wanted this, and Lindsay couldn’t say no to her, because she could never say no to her. Plus, she needed this too, this chance to be with Cindy, to maybe erase some of those memories left behind on her body. Whether that was possible, she wasn’t entirely sure, but damn if she wasn’t going to try. With no sense to fight it, and a rising need to exploit her sense of touch, her hands tentatively found Cindy’s hips. The movement was met with no flinch, no trace of fear, just longing, undisguised, staring back at her.

Feeling too far away, Lindsay stood up. Her hands on Cindy’s hips were the only points of contact, but there was such an energy between them, it felt as if they were touching before they were. Lindsay dropped her head, her parted lips meeting Cindy’s, drawing the soundless sigh directly from Cindy’s soul into her own.

This was how it was going to be tonight between them.

Lindsay experienced a flash of irrational fear as to whether she could survive such a sensory assault, quickly deciding that, if she didn’t, it would be worth it.

Cindy’s hands brushed against her abdomen, dexterous fingers pulling open the button of her jeans, and Lindsay’s focus wavered between the responsiveness of Cindy’s mouth to hers and the slight caresses lightly tracing her skin as Cindy industriously eliminated the rest of the fabric that shielded her from Cindy’s inspection, from the probing wander of her hands.

When the last piece of clothing fell to the floor, Cindy stepped into her, the curves of her body melding flawlessly into Lindsay’s and Lindsay’s knees became instantly incapable of supporting her weight. She reached back for the bed, finding it. Breaking contact with Cindy’s lips, she pulled the sheet back, waiting for Cindy to climb in. Cindy did, without prompting, and instantly turned to wait for her. More nervous than she could ever remember being before, Lindsay once again followed.

Cindy moved into her again, their bodies fusing, and Cindy’s lips found hers.

Lindsay was perfectly content to stay exactly where she was for the rest of her life. It was so perfect. Part of her didn’t need or want for more. Just feeling Cindy, kissing Cindy, it was enough. It was above anything she’d ever had. But a little part of her was also afraid to go beyond, to take it any further, to risk making an unspeakable mistake.

There was a tug on her hip and Lindsay found herself lying halfway on top of Cindy, in a position of dominance she wasn’t certain she wanted to be in. Cindy’s lips pulled away from hers, and those eyes that had once looked at her with unmerited idolatry now reassured, offering something altogether peaceful and therapeutic. Wasn’t she the one who was supposed to be doing the healing?

She didn’t realize just how tightly her hand was fisted on the mattress beside Cindy until strong fingers worked their way to the inside of her palm and pried it open. Cindy’s smile was softly reassuring, and her grip was sure and determined. Lindsay felt the incredibly soft skin of Cindy’s thigh against her fingertips as her hand was guided inward.

Her trepidation must have shown plainly, because Cindy lifted her other hand, ghosting light caresses over her forehead and down her cheek, as if trying to rub away the anxiety. She didn’t want to be so needy, but Cindy had no idea how much it would break her if she somehow did something to trigger more pain.

Her hand reached its destination, the unreal warmth from Cindy’s body scorching her palm. Cindy’s hand still blanketed the back, pressing against it, until Lindsay’s fingers were immersed in liquid heat. Along with Cindy’s soft exhalation, somewhere between a sigh and a moan, it was an encouraging sign that left Lindsay gasping for breath and trembling with every ounce of desire she’d just been waiting to unleash, but not enough to give her the courage to press forward on her own. On her own, she was scared and static. Until she was absolutely certain she wasn’t going to hit a wrong note, she was Cindy’s instrument.

Cindy didn’t seem to mind. Her hand moved back into Lindsay’s hair, pulling her down, softly bringing their lips together, her other hand gently steering Lindsay’s against her. As her fingers moved over sensitive, desire-slicked skin, Cindy’s body shuddered beneath her. On a soft moan, Cindy’s head fell back to the pillow and she gazed up with such unabashed yearning, such unquestionable love, Lindsay’s doubts started ebbing away. She couldn’t look down into a face so free of it and preserve her own fear.

Cindy’s fingers slid down the back of her hand, pressing insistently against her own. Only then did she let go, sliding her hand up Lindsay’s arm to her elbow, trusting her to provide exactly what she needed. That explicit trust allowed Lindsay to trust herself. Enough to allow her fingers to glide unrestrained and relish the sounds her efforts elicited from the barely opened lips below hers. Enough to slide her fingers inside of Cindy, watching as Cindy’s eyes closed for just an instant with a gratified sigh.

“Lindsay.”

After hearing it breathed like that, never again would Lindsay be able to think of those seven letters together as just her name.

Lindsay settled into a slow rhythm, working in time with the nearly imperceptible counter movement of Cindy’s body. This wasn’t like before. Tonight, all the time in the world belonged to them. There was no need to rush. She wouldn’t dare.

She concentrated on all of the little details that comprised the immensely significant experience. Cindy’s softly expelled breaths against her cheek. The tiny droplets of sweat forming at Cindy’s hairline. Cindy’s hands on her back, alternately digging in with fingertips and caressing the marks away.

She concentrated on the sweetly salty flavor of Cindy’s skin and the combined scent of their bodies, and the way that Cindy’s eyes closed for minutes at a time, only to reopen and focus once again on her.

The sounds that Cindy made…

The way that she arched to get closer…

The feel of being inside of her…

It might have been hours before Cindy started moving more purposefully against her, striving for a release that only she could provide. And, God, how Lindsay wanted it to be flawless. Her free hand wrapped around the back of Cindy’s neck and their eyes locked at close range.

A sudden movement by Cindy almost made Lindsay go through the ceiling. Instead, the feel of Cindy’s thigh pressed solidly against her core made Lindsay jump and gasp. She thought it unintentional until a quick, breathless smile flashed over Cindy’s face.

Cindy’s hands slid effortlessly through the perspiration on her back to her hips, pulling Lindsay more firmly against her thigh, making the action even more deliberate, and almost too distracting. Just being with Cindy like this had her relentlessly teetering. It wasn’t going to take much to send her hurtling over the edge.

Cindy’s eyes closed, her head tilting back, revealing a striking expanse of porcelain skin that Lindsay would have been powerless not to gravitate to if she weren’t struggling to keep her own eyes open to watch Cindy, the way her lips quivered just barely, the hitch of her breath, the seizing of her body that gave way, soundlessly, to a subtle tremble.

Her own unexpected and forceful climax wasn’t nearly as hushed. It came with a near scream that she was helpless to stop. When the air cleared, there was no sound but her irregular breaths and Cindy’s soft panting.

It took several minutes for Lindsay to recover enough to stir, but Cindy wasn’t making any attempts at movement either. When Lindsay finally pushed up onto shaky arms to look down, Cindy was lying exactly as she had last witnessed her, eyes closed, trying to find stability as the Earth rotated around them.

“I love you,” Lindsay whispered.

Cindy’s eyes opened and stared up at her. A gentle smile spread across her lips. After everything that she had been through, everything that had happened to her, she was still so unguarded, so open. Or maybe that was only with her.

Lindsay recognized the warning signs, felt the threat. Not now, she thought futilely, knowing that all the worthwhile reasons in the universe were not going to prevent it this time. Not with Cindy. Not after this. All of those suppressed emotions rushed to the surface, and Cindy saw them coming. Powerless to prevent the onslaught, Lindsay wrapped her arms firmly around Cindy, moved her head onto Cindy’s shoulder, and just let it all come. There was no thought, fear, or possibility that had or hadn’t come to pass that Lindsay didn’t acknowledge.

With Cindy safe in her arms, she let go, the pain and the tears pouring out of her. She cried until her head hurt. She had no idea exactly how long that took, but when she did finally become aware of herself again, the first thing she noticed was the copious moisture beneath her cheek. After that, came the feel of Cindy’s fingers moving through her hair, and the other hand rubbing comforting circles on her lower back.

Lindsay stayed where she was, striving for composure, before lifting the corner of the sheet to dry off Cindy’s soaked shoulder.

At Cindy’s soft chuckle, she raised her eyes up, somewhat self conscious about how bad she must look after that crying fit. Her eyes met Cindy’s and Cindy’s hand slid forward from her hair to her cheek, brushing softly along it. She didn’t say anything. She just stared up thoughtfully and, after a few moments, pulled Lindsay’s head back down to her shoulder.

“Sleep, Linds,” Cindy softly instructed.

So Lindsay did.