LOTS - CARA/KAHLAN

Finery

shiegra

Title: Finery

Author: shiegra

Pairing: Cara/Kahlan

Rating: NC–17

Disclaimer: not mine

On Dreamwidth: http://oxoniensis.dreamwidth.org/

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Finery

shiegra

“It suits you,” Kahlan said gently, smiling. “You look beautiful.” She smoothed the lay of the silk over Cara’s shoulder and received a suspicious look in return.

“It’s cumbersome,” she said, lip curling in exquisite disdain. “It will be difficult to fight in.”

Kahlan smothered laughter, shook her head. She, of all people, knew better than to simply assume festivities would remain undisturbed. “We are not intending to need to fight,” she reminded her.

Cara moved her legs experimentally, kicking against the fall of her skirt, and raised a sardonic eyebrow at Kahlan. “As if you don’t think about it.”

Kahlan had to concede that one. “Of course I do. But you can still wield the Agiels, and we are not fighting alone any longer. It should be safe enough.”

“First sign of trouble, I’m tearing through,” Cara warned, leaning forward.

Kahlan couldn’t help but grin helplessly. “I’d expect nothing less.”

Cara’s eyes narrowed, as if she was expecting some other response. Her breath touched Kahlan’s skin, warm; it was harder to intimidate a Confessor than that, and while Kahlan never forgot that Cara was dangerous–beyond dangerous–Cara so close didn’t set off her alarms the way it used to. She was a threat–but not an enemy.

The moment stretched. As though recalling herself, Cara jerked back, eyes glittering. “Fine. As long as we’re clear.”

Kahlan turned away, feeling warmth flood her skin. “We are,” she said. “Now, I need to change, so–”

The door closed. Kahlan bit her lip, surprised the Mord’Sith had left without a retort and reaching for her bodice. They were only recently off the battlefield; she was weary and sore in her own way, but the content peace spreading through her was pleasant beyond belief, and she thought they were due a little celebrating. She let the white gown drop, stepping aside and bending to gather it up. She spread the cloth over the table, folding it neatly, and then reached for her skirt.

When she was almost naked, she drew in a deep, careful breath–her ribs were still a little bruised–and reached for the underthings. They draped soft as a breath against her skin, and as she started to pull it over her head, leather traced down her spine.

She didn’t think, she just reacted, silk undergarments scattering across the floor, her knife swept from beneath the white dress. She had another in her boots, but they were too–

Cara. Cara was too close, and smiling, and the heat in her eyes rippled down Kahlan’s skin like a touch. The knife lightly dimpled the skin of her throat, and the Mord’Sith didn’t even pause, just leaned slowly forward. Her hair swept over her shoulders; Kahlan moved the knife so it didn’t split her skin, but couldn’t quite make herself let go of it. “Where are your other weapons?” She asked softly, her eyes daring Kahlan to prove her wrong.

Kahlan licked her lips. Without thinking, her voice was as soft–though not nearly as steady–as Cara’s. “Boots,” she said.

Cara laughed under her breath, a rich purring note of approval, and kissed her hard.

The table was a hard cold edge against her back–Cara’s hands were gloveless but calloused, and sure on her bare skin. She swept her back of her fingers up Kahlan’s ribs in a light, sure caress and cupped her bare breast, teeth sinking into Kahlan’s lower lip. Nothing could sheath the danger of a Mord’Sith, and there was an edge of barely restrained violence, almost testingly, to Cara’s touch.

In response Kahlan reached up, knotted a hand in Cara’s hair, and yanked her recklessly closer. The Mord’Sith came in a surge of motion, pressing her to the table as she bent backwards. Their bodies pressed together, silk and brocade cool against Kahlan’s bare skin, the laces abrading her nipples. Her breath came out raggedly; they were both breathing hard now, and Cara kissed her like it was a punishment, mouth working against her skin. Her eyes fluttered closed, and Kahlan cupped her face with both hands, watching her as she moaned. Her knee came up between Cara’s thighs, silk dragging over their skin, and her hips lurched at the pressure.

Kahlan reached down and began hurriedly dragging up her skirts. Beneath Cara wore nothing; she found her with her fingers, wet and hot, giving with slick generosity beneath her fingers as she plunged them into her body. Kahlan’s voice came in on a ragged gasp and Cara gave a taut little cry, almost a wail, and buried her face in Kahlan’s throat, biting down at the curve where shoulder met neck.

It was an unfamiliar angle, but Kahlan explored and Cara was exquisitely responsive. She liked it hard and a little rough, and when Kahlan tugged her closer and raked her nails down the inside of the Mord’Sith’s thigh, she nearly convulsed. She was wound up tightly, and despite the fact that she’d initiated it she just held on to Kahlan, hands fisted in her hair and mouth locked onto her skin. Hard and fast and rough, Kahlan could do–a vague, fogged thought drifted across her mind that anyone could open the door, and they might to see what was taking them so long–and when she caught Cara’s earlobe between her teeth and bit down lightly, her nail scraping over Cara’s clit, she came quaking against her.

For a precious moment before Cara’s defenses were up full force against Kahlan’s arms were full of her warmth and she was sleek and sleepy, her mouth moving with satiated softness against Kahlan’s neck. Kahlan closed her eyes and buried her face in Cara’s hair, breathing her in.

All too soon, Cara came to herself and pulled back. Before she could say anything Kahlan stepped away from the table and gathered up the undergown she’d let fall when she’d first turned. A mixture of emotions flashed through Cara’s eyes–startlement, confusion, something more fragile–and Kahlan smiled at her over her bare shoulder. “We don’t have time,” she said. “But you could help me dress.” Cara’s eyes warmed, a faint hint of slyness curling the edges of her mouth up. “I suspect,” Kahlan added, feeling the side of her neck throbbing pleasantly with each pulse, “I’ll need a dress with a higher collar than planned.”

~ ~ ~