Title:
As It Should Be
Author:
CN Winters
Fandom:
Xena Fanfiction, Xena fanfic, Xena fan fiction, Xena and
Gabrielle fanfiction
Rating:
R to NC-17
Disclaimers:
Xena and her bard are not mine, as I’m sure you all know.
This is a tale involved deep love (and yes sex) between
members of the same sex. If this offends
you, if you’re too young or if it’s illegal where you live
do not proceed any further.
Author
Note: This
story is written for Dex, my consort and warrior in shinning
brass armor<G>. Hope you enjoy it.
Synopsis:
Gabrielle watches her warrior at an amazon celebration.
Feedback:
Drop me a line at cnwinters71@yahoo.com.
As
It Should Be
I remember a time
when she wouldn’t look at me for fear that her eyes would
show too much. But now... now her eyes never leave me. Even as
she glances elsewhere I know she is still aware of where I am
– tracking my movements with other senses; feeling my
presence.
She watches me now.
Although her eyes are on my regent, pretending to be engaged
in conversation, she knows precisely where to find me. She
knows I’m watching her.
Finally, her
beautiful azure eyes look over to meet my intense stare. I see
it. And I know... she is as captured by me as I am by her. I
relish these looks between us – given so openly now, yet so
concealed. My lover could speak volumes with just a look. This
moment is no different.
She tosses her head
ever so slightly, motioning me to her. My body and heart are
helpless to resist. A few strides later I am at her side, her
arm slipping around my back, her palm resting on my hip, her
long fingers clutching my well toned abs. The feel of being
protected and possessed envelops me. It is the greatest
feeling I’ve ever known... no... the second greatest. For
the greatest feeling is when she pleasures me... and judging
by the look in her eye, tonight will be one of those glorious
nights.
She’ll lay claim
to my desire, becoming the victor, and yet, in her victory I
will feel like the true winner.
I feel my
anticipation grow, like the wetness between my rock hard
thighs. She can sense my excitement. With a light squeeze to
my exposed flesh, she reassures me. She feels the same too.
Moments later we
bid my regent goodnight. As I fumble with the hut door, I feel
my warriors’ armor against my back; her breath upon my
sensitive ear.
"Let me
help," she whispers.
She feels my
helplessness. For I am truly helpless at this moment. Even the
easiest of tasks become a burden. My desire for this tall,
dark woman makes me lose the simplest abilities.
She opens the door.
She leads me inside with a gentle hand to my shoulder. I
wonder, as I shudder, if it’s her gentleness or her skin on
mine that bring forth this reaction. I realize it is both.
Once inside, safely
hidden from the village eyes, she reaches for me from behind.
I watch, hypnotically, as her steady fingers work my laces
free, loop by agonizing loop.
Finally my breasts
are exposed to the cool night air, but only for a moment. Her
hands capture me as my passion for her seeps into my
breathless sigh.
Too soon, however,
her exquisite hands depart my mounds. I hear, rather than see,
her move to rid herself of her armor. But tonight I feel I
must have my warrior - or more correctly, I must feel my
warrior take me.
"No," I
tell her. The want and need fill my fragile, husky voice.
"Leave it."
She understands and
complies. Without delay I feel my britches tugged from my
waist. Next, my skirt goes, joining the pool of clothing at my
feet.
Her breathing has
changed – as has mine – short and shallow; aching with
ardent passion. Gods how I live for this woman, returned from
deaths grip for this woman, as she’s done for me.
A few heartbeats
later, she turns me. I look up to see her beautiful eyes
adoring me, hungering for me. My legs are weak. I am grateful
as she moves to lift me, cradling me in her sturdy yet
feminine arms.
She has yet to kiss
me. I already feel a river raging from my loins, damp and
sticky; waiting impatiently for her explorations I know will
soon come. Gently she lays me on the bed. I am unsure of how I
arrived here; aware only of the fact that I am with her – as
it should be.
I feel her pull my
sandals from my feet. Soon, her sword callused hands caress
the length of my legs up and down in a maddening motion.
Everything about my
lover excites me. And in this excitement I feel I can no
longer wait. My eyes show their desire in their hoodedness. I
must have her. She will take me.
I rise. My hands
latch forcefully to her breastplate, drawing her near. She
moves to kiss me, but I resist. I see this game arouses her
too with her groan of raw passion. Without delay, she settles
herself seductively between my center. I feel her chakram
caresses my thigh as she poises herself. It heightens my need;
deepens my ache. Her contact is delicate at first, teasing
almost, and my hips rise to meet her.
I feel her pull
back, ever so slightly, staring intently into my eyes asking a
question already knowing the answer.
"Who’s your
warrior?" she breathes softly yet filled with the
authority I now crave.
"You
are," I mutter, straining my vocal cords to work.
My answer is
correct, it appears, for she returns to connect with me. I
happily accept it.
"Who’s your
champion?" she asks next. Her body begins a slow primal
rhythm.
I know she expects
an answer, but the sensations are too much. My fingers weed
their way into her swirls of brass, hanging on for dear life
as she takes me higher.
"You
are," I manage to proclaim in a heated whisper.
I am rewarded
again. This time her movements increase. They are harder;
faster. I can now feel her wetness grow as mine does. Her
britches under her battle skirt are soaked with her need to
bring me pleasure.
"Who’s your
lover?"
The words are
ragged from her lips. The lust pours into the question. As
does her devotion and love.
"You
are," I answer one last time. "Only you, Xena."
My name becomes an
ardent sigh on her lips. It sends me further from reality. I
always loved the way my name trickled from her mouth – all
three syllables pronounced perfectly; passionately.
I realize I need
that mouth. A hand disengages my hold on the breast plate. It
travels to the back of her head. Our movements never cease.
She takes me higher still.
My lips reach and
finally meet hers. The sound of our bodies writhing against
each other is true music to me. The feel of her tongue delving
into the moist cavern of my mouth comforts me. The smell of
our desire mingling with each other’s flesh pushes me.
Higher. And higher yet.
I feel the
approach. She does too. Whether it’s the look in my eyes;
the sharpness of my breath; the heat of my skin, I do not
know. In any regard she can tell. She KNOWS me and it is this
fact that pushes me over the edge.
I cry her name in
pleasure and in pain. Not that she has inflicted pain upon me.
Far from it. The pain is that one day I may be without her.
Because that’s what happens sometimes with things you love
– they just leave you.
Instead of dwelling
on the pain, I revel in the pleasure now. She smirks at the
smile of satisfaction that crosses my lips – for my pleasure
is her pleasure – just as it has always been. Just as it is
with me. Just as it should be.
I try my best to
stay focused; alert, but her loving is far too powerful and I
feel myself now being claimed by Morpheus. She leaves our bed
only to return as bare as I am. I feel myself mumble, unsure
of what I have said.
"Tomorrow,"
I hear her whisper softly; affectionately. "Rest
now."
I comply, safe in
our love, safe in her arms.
"Tomorrow",
my mind repeats. "Yes my warrior. Tomorrow and
everyday... As it should be."
The End
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