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“God, you’re such a fucking psycho, you know that?” Sam snarls. She is well and truly sick of Bert’s shit.
“You’re the one who agreed to do this job, babe, I’m just watching our backs!” Bert replies, hardly able to get an edge in as Sam shoves her backwards to slam against the wall behind her.
“And so fucking smug too honestly it’s a wonder I… do I honestly need you on a bloody leash to not be running off, what… murdering people?” She’s all bared teeth now, pressed up in Bert’s face, who is still just so infuriatingly calm. God, would Sam kill to have her on the back foot just for a moment. Maybe that’s what pushes her to do what she does next.
She kisses Bert.
It doesn’t take much to close the meager distance between them, pressing into her with more teeth than lips. And, thank fucking god, it does wipe that infuriating smirk right off Bert’s face. She feels Bert’s hands slide up to her shoulders, presumably to push her off. Fat chance. Sam grabs Bert by the collar of that stupid shirt she’d saved for ten years and slams her back against the wall for a second time.
“When I say I’m calling the shots, that means I’m in charge! That means no fucking off to the bloody desert when we’re already fucking skintight here.” Sam well and truly has gotten Bert on the back foot now, and she seems properly pissed off. She opens her mouth to speak when Sam shakes her again. “I’m still in charge here, so for once in your life, shut your fucking mouth!”
“Oh so now you’re all big and strong? Didn’t seem as much when you wore a fucking wire!” Bert shoves Sam off of her, following as she shoves her again. “Trying to play the man when you didn’t even have the balls to visit me for ten bloody years.” Not knowing what to say, Sam just slams forward and kisses her again, biting hard at Bert’s bottom lip until she tastes copper.
Vaguely, over the low thrum of anger through her body, she feels Bert’s hands skittering down her stomach, messily untucking her shirt from her shorts before working at the button. Sam pulls back for a moment, hardly long enough to catch her breath and unbutton Bert’s own trousers–because hot fucking chance she’s going to let Bert one up her–but it’s evidently time enough for Bert to sink her teeth down into Sam’s shoulder. Hard.
Vaguely, Sam thinks she can hear herself shout, whether in pain or anger she couldn’t be certain. She slams Bert back against the wall again, hard enough to rattle the teacups sitting on the adjacent armoire. Finally, she manages to get the fly of Bert’s far-too-complicated trousers down and jams her hand down into the narrow space that creates. Bert bites down again, somewhere near her neck, Sam thinks. She finally gets her hand under the waistband of the blonde’s boxers, brushing past coarse curls before rubbing harshly against Bert’s clit, making her cry out a sharp, keening noise. She pants against Sam’s shoulder before biting down again, higher up this time. Sam growls low in her chest.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She grounds out, shoving Bert’s shoulder, making her once again upright against the wall, and then grabbing her neck, pressing her head back. She’s got that fucking smirk again. The one that makes it seem like she’s got Sam right where she wants her somehow.
“Dunno, babe, you’re the one fucking me against your wall right now.” Bert quips, the only indication of Sam’s fingers rubbing harshly against her being how out of breath she was, and, God, she couldn’t stand her. Sam slams forward and kisses her again, pressing her tongue into Bert’s mouth. Bert just laughs, the noise reverberating through Sam’s mouth and down through her body. Sam dips her fingers lower, teasing Bert’s entrance, and feels more than hears Bert’s gasp. Gotcha. She presses one finger in, then quickly a second.
“God, so fucking needy, babe.” She groans out, fucking her in quick, shallow thrusts, the angle awkward with how her hand is jammed down the taller woman’s trousers. Bert just grunts, reaching out to palm Sam’s tits through her shirt before quickly moving down to where she had already gotten Sam’s shorts unbuttoned. Bert groans lowly as she rubs her fingers against Sam through her knickers. The brunette’s hips instinctively jerk, her own thrusts stuttering as Bert rubs hard against her clit through the damp fabric.
“Bloody hell, this really gets you off, doesn’t it?” She pants, eyes half lidded as she pulls back from their more-teeth-than-tongue kiss, and when had Sam given her enough ground to pull back?
“Fuck off.” Sam grounds out, even as her hips twitch forward as Bert’s hand pulls away. Bert just laughs lowly. So fucking infuriating.
“Relax babe, only getting a better angle ‘s all.” Bert says far too lightly, so Sam jerks forward to bite at her collar bone hard as she can. The blonde yelps, and Sam swears she can feel her pulse around her fingers as she bites her way down, pausing to tug her shirt up high as she can get it.
“Stupid fucking bra.” She growls, not bothering to try with that as she just worms her hand up under it to pinch sharply at one of Bert’s nipples. Bert’s eyes darken. She gets a hand down Sam’s knickers then, not waiting before plunging two fingers into Sam’s cunt. When had she gotten so wet? That quickly stops mattering when Bert rubs at her clit with her thumb, smirking again when Sam’s thrusts once again stutter.
“Like that, eh? Y’learn a thing or two when your mate sells you out to get you in prison.” Sam bites higher, harder, for that, right at the junction of her neck and her shoulder. Bert yowls, her hips jerking forward, her free hand going to Sam’s hair to pull her up away from where she was biting higher up her neck. Sam snarls, pulling her hand out from under Bert’s bra to once again wrap it around her neck, holding each other at a stalemate.
“Fuck you.” Sam grounds out, her hips twitching as she gets closer to coming.
“Love you too, babe.” Bert quips back, tugging at her hair once again, and of course, that’s what gets her, making her cum harder than she had in ages on her oldest mate’s fingers. Her only mate. Her ex-mate–although she never really could be her ex-mate, as much as Sam tries. After riding out her high, fucking herself down on Bert’s fingers, Sam presses forwards once again, fucking Bert hard and fast while pressing down with her hand around her throat. Bert can still breathe, but it’s certainly wheezy. Bert’s hand, now wet with Sam’s release, comes up out of the brunette’s shorts to grab at the wrist of the hand wrapped around her throat, but Sam just presses harder until she’s finally, finally, got Bert coming around her fingers, feeling her pulse pound against her palm.
She feels Bert’s pulse all the way through her own body, like it had become her own.
Sam slowly withdraws her fingers, and the two women stare at each other, panting, for a moment before Sam blinks, dropping her hand from where it was still loosely holding Bert’s throat like it burned.
“I…you’re a fucking psycho.” Sam waveringly spits, taking a step back.
“What, like I made you fuck me against your wall?” Bert snaps back, beginning to zip up her jeans again.
“Fuck you.” Sam spits, turning and storming away. The door slams behind her, everything back just the way it was–the way it always has been–as if nothing had even happened.