Like You Really Like It
copyright 2000 by
Xena's Little Bitch
Disclaimers: These aren't my characters, I just love writing about them. This being a first time story, Xena and Gabrielle make love for the first time, so if that doesn't turn you on or it's for some reason illegal where you live, don't read the story.
Description: Yes, a first time story, taking place directly after the events of "Ides Of March."
Send comments to: MiladyCo@aol.com
The cave is small and lined with stone slabs and wood struts to support the walls and ceiling. There's a fire pit with a fire and shadows dance across the room. Outside there's a raging snowstorm, barely audible from so deep within the rock. I stored some stuff here once when I'd been fighting Caesar; tended my wounded and regrouped in this very cave. It is warm and well-protected. My medicines and tools are still here, bedding and a months worth of wood. We'd left our bodies where they hung on the crosses, and then everything seemed just for an instant slightly off, and then the earthquake. It knocked the crosses to the ground and, somehow, our souls back into our bodies. The snow was pouring down and Gabrielle crawled over to me and healed my spine. For now I do not question how; we live and we are together.
Now, Gabrielle lies, sleeping by the fire, exhausted. Healing me took what little energy she'd had left after the fight and the beatings and the crucifixion. I hoisted her over my shoulders as the storm began in earnest. Strong winds and driving hail. Everything was white all around me and I hoped that Amarice had managed to get the others to safety somewhere. Thankfully I soon recalled this hidden chamber near Mount Amorra.
I carried Gabrielle for hours through the forest, huge branches falling to the ground in front of me, torn from their trees by the wind. The holes in my hands and feet ached. I had had nothing to tie around my feet so the wounds were open to the freezing wet snow as I slogged on. I knew that because I was doing it for Gabrielle, I would not fail. Hours ago my limbs had been useless, I could barely move my head, but now, because of her, I walked on through the storm. Finally I put her down to brush aside the branches that cover the entrance to our sanctuary.
Watching her sleep I could never have imagined what she'd just been through. She'd killed, what, eight soldiers to save me? The ones who'd lived made her pay for what she did, and me as well. There I was, unable to move, and still the Roman soldiers beat me. I clean her wounds and dress them, and do the same for mine. The holes in my feet are inflamed, but at least neither of us seems to have frostbite. I drink to dull the pain.
I sit by the fire, naked, covered in bloody bandages, drinking as if the liquor were air. Thank the gods some liquors improve with age. I feel all my muscles begin to relax and I close my eyes. I see her, gracefully slitting that soldier's throat like it was second nature to her. I suppose second nature is exactly what it was.
Many religions have stories about the apocalypse, the end of the world. I have seen so many of the signs so recently. The end of the world. Something I'd definitely like to be drunk for. In a cave just like this, only with her awake.
So I can't help it, I go over to her blanket and lie next to her, my neck propped on a saddle bag so I can continue to drink. Gabrielle mumbles, turns to face me and puts her arms around my waist.
"My precious one," I whisper, "How beautiful you look tonight. Perhaps it's morning now. It doesn't matter." I take a sip and continue to watch her sleep.
"You're drunk, huh?" she whispers.
"Hey! Nice to hear your voice."
"Give me a sip. Everything hurts."
I hand her the flask and she draws from it.
"Xena, I had this dream that the vision came true and you got hurt so badly and I killed people and we died on crosses and the heavens and the earth seemed to explode and we hid in a cave."
"A dream, huh?" I ask,squirming down so I can look into her face.
She smiles, "Well, I had to hope, didn't I?"
"We've got provisions and wood and we're healing. We're dry now. We'll be okay."
Gabrielle chuckles and smiles at me, "All we need is a plague."
"Well, we don't know what else is going on out there."
I take her hands to my mouth and lovingly kiss them, looking into her eyes, hoping for a sign that I am not alone in my thinking about the nicest way to spend the end of the world. There are too few ways I can kiss her without making my feelings obvious. One of those weird little voices inside me calls out, "But Xena, what if it's the end of the world and you never even really kissed her?" and another little voices goes, "Yeah and what if it's not the end of the world and you end up feeling like an idiot?" I shake my head. The alcohol helps me disassociate and I like it. Xena who?
"At least we know we'll be together, no matter what happens," I tell her, "That's what's most important to me."
"Oh, Xena," she says, continuing to drink.
"Are you in a lot of pain?"
"I don't feel terrific, but I'm drinking more to...you know...what's that word? Cope. To cope with the situation."
"Yeah, drink is a great asset when dealing with a difficult situation."
"Well, Xena, we don't seem to be dealing with a situation. We're hiding in a cave and letting a situation take care of itself for once. Maybe letting go that control makes me feel a little uncomfortable. Maybe I got used to saving the world all the time."
We lie on our sides still, facing each other, passing the flask back and forth, smiling.
"Oh, Xena," she says, and lifts her hand to stroke the side of my face. She gently holds my jaw in her hand as if she were going to pull my face forward into a kiss, but she does not.
"Gods, the way you touch me," I say. Well, whoops.
"You like it?"
"You're surprised?" Nice counter.
"I mean, obviously you don't dislike it, but I didn't know you liked it enough to mention it like that."
"Like what?" I can barely summon the breath to ask.
"You know, like you really like it."
"Like it when I touch you."
"Yeah. I like a woman with hands like a sailor."
"Funny," she says, still stroking my jaw by my temple. I shudder. I am hopeful enough to imagine that this will be the time.
"How about when I touch you?" I whisper, resting my hand on her naked waist. She shivers and smiles. "Do you like it, Gabrielle?"
"You know I do," she whispers in reply.
"No I don't. Prove it," I dare her. Her eyes sparkle with acceptance of a challenge. That competitive streak makes her such an easy mark sometimes.
She moves closer to me, pressing her naked stomach against my own. I am so naked. Except for all the bandages. I can't let my body react. Her face is an inch from mine.
"So touch me," she whispers.
I put my palm to the small of her back and feel her move even more tightly into my embrace. I can feel her breasts against mine and it's everything my mother ever told me the Elysian Fields would be and more. Eyes closed, I rub my cheek against hers, smelling her hair. I kiss her jaw and she gasps.
I whisper into her ear, "I believe you, Gabrielle."
Gabrielle giggles and strokes my naked back, "You're so warm."
I feel the cave around me, a small, warm, intimate place. I realize that it is going to happen, that it is in fact happening. Gabrielle in my arms, practically naked, breathing hard near my ear. This is not something I can afford to screw up. She's no hapless adventurer or hardened warlord or lady in waiting. She's something altogether different. Without meaning to I find my hands caressing her back, and then I'm holding her face in my hands.
"In case the world does end," I say, and I kiss her.
Gabrielle immediately drives her tongue into my mouth and wraps her legs around mine, pulling my body more closely against hers. I feel every one of her muscles move against my skin as she presses different parts of herself against me. One moment there is pressure against the back of my shoulders, then her hips press into mine. "Xena," she whispers, breathing hard and still running her hands all over my back and arms; I can feel her wetness against my thigh and I am overcome with desire.
"Xena," she whispers urgently, "Xena, what if it's not the end of the world?"
My hands are on her butt, pressing her hard against me, "What if it's not the what?" I manage to reply, still kissing her. She pulls back and bites my lip, looking into my eyes.
"What if it's not the end of the world?" she asks again.
I pause. "Well, all the better then."
She smiles at me like the girl I met in Poteidaia all over again, and I press my mouth into hers as hard as I can without being rough. Her arms still around my back, I pull my hands back between them to cup her breasts. We both gasp at the same time with the pleasure of the touch, and she presses herself against my hands hard.
"I can't feel the pain from the stakes anymore," she whispers into my ear.
"Don't worry. You will later."
I bend to press my lips to her breasts, sucking her skin so slightly into my mouth, murmuring my pleasure almost unconsciously. My hands move from her breasts to her hair. It is so short I can barely get a grip in it, but I can. Somehow she is so much sexier with this hair, the way it feels in my hands to pull her head back and she gasps with pleasure as I brush a string of kisses along her collarbone.
Suddenly I am on my back and she is straddling my thighs, pressing them together with her own. I move my hand down to touch her where her legs are spread just over mine, and she is so warm there, so wet her golden curls are already drenched. She moans and bends from the waist to kiss me as I stroke her slowly, sensually. She moans in my mouth and I am driven to rake my other hand through her hair.
"Your hair drives me insane," I whisper.
I feel her whole body convulse at the sound of my voice.
Gabrielle throws her head back as she rights herself and moves her hips slowly back and forth, pressing herself gently against my hand. Her body glistens in the fire light, her hair sparkles golden. Her eyes are closed and on her face is a look that is beyond pleasure. I cannot take my eyes off her, the way her muscles move under her skin, the way she reacts to my touch. I raise my other hand and run it down her body, resting it on her abdomen, feeling the muscles move beneath my hand. Moving here above me, radiating heat and sensuality, Gabrielle is the most desirable thing that I have ever beheld.
Suddenly she jumps off me and pulls my thighs apart. I am so suffused with passion I can barely keep my eyes open as she moves down between my legs. Her tongue, hot and a mile wide, presses itself against me in just the right place. My back arches and I moan her name. This is pleasure unimaginable. My hands move instinctively to her head and hold it loosely as it moves along with her tongue, slowly up and down and back again. Her short hair so hot under my fingers, and the muscles of her shoulders against the undersides of my thighs are so compact yet so strong, it is easy to imagine she is a young boy, a knight seeking only to please his lady fair. The thought excites me so intensely that I pull Gabrielle back up to me and kiss her ravenously, running my hands from her hair to her shoulders and back, as I feel our thighs entwine and Gabrielle's hands at my neck and shoulders, obviously enjoying the feeling of my muscles under her hands as much as I do hers, I know I cannot hold out much longer.
"Oh, Gabrielle," I am near speechlessness. Only her name will come now, but she knows what I mean.
Again she parts my thighs, but this time she moves her body between them, spreading my legs as wide as they will go. The cold air hits me in my warmest spot and the feeling of anticipation is so great that I fear I may faint from it. I have never fainted in my life. She places herself above me, and before I know it I feel the hot wetness of her center press against my own. I close my eyes to take in this feeling, Gabrielle on top of me, pressing herself against me slowly and languorously, taking her own sweet time, her hands tangled in my hair, alternately kissing my mouth and my neck. I hold her head in my hands, pressing it against me, pulling her down by the hair to kiss me again and again, more and more deeply. The heat from her lips is searing, I imagine I have hickeys all over my skin. She pulls the top of her body a little father away and I move my hands to her breasts. She puts her hands on my knees to part them and lift them just that tiny bit more. She looks down at me, her face wild with passion, her skin glowing blue in the night, her lips red.
"Are you sure you want this, now?" she teases, the answer so obvious she starts laughing. I laugh too, and feel her drive her fingers into me. I gasp with pleasure and pain, surprised at the gesture itself and the
tightness of the fit.
"Is that your whole hand?" I ask, and already my hips are moving against it.
"And if it is? Can you take that?"
"Oh Gods yes!" I cry. I feel her move her own body to a place where she can touch herself while touching me and we again find a rhythm that cannot be denied. She thrusts her hand into me, herself against her hand, and I feel the pleasure building in us both. I cannot help myself; I see her lovely biceps tensed, glistening with sweat, and I place my hands on them, my hold growing tighter and tighter as I feel her thighs pound against mine, and my climax cannot be stopped. As if it could only happen this way, suddenly she is coming and screaming out my name, over and over; I can barely hear it over the sound of my own voice screaming hers.
And now she is lying on top of me, breathing hard, and my hands hold her butt, keeping her pinned right where she is.
"Oh, Gabrielle, you are magnificent!"
I hear her giggle. "I guess you really liked it, huh?"
"I liked it."
"Come on. You really really liked it."
"More than anything I've ever done, Gabrielle," I say into her ear.
"I don't think the world's gonna end."
"Yeah. Me neither."
"I guess it turned out for the best, didn't it?"
"I'd say so. Give me another kiss, would you?"
And so we lay there and we kissed until the storm was over.
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