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Reply to Minnie or visit her websitePosted to the RoswellSlash mailing list February 9, 2001
Category: UC, Slash, Maria/Courtney
Setting: Surprise, possibly up to Wipe Out
Dedication: To Helen, my bitch mentor and muse. Thanks for badgering me about this fic. No, it's not done yet.
Author's Note: Courtney POV.
"Hey, bottle job!" Maria yelled at me, eyes blazing as she swung through the back door of the Crashdown a few hours later.
At last, at last, she was back. I stood rather meekly by a counter and thought it was time for us to have a showdown. Emphasis on 'show', even more on 'down'. I smiled slyly.
The lovely Ms. DeLuca looked even more beautiful when she was extremely pissed off. The snide name she called me wasn't even irksome. I knew she called other pet names as a sign of affection.
"Yeah?" I responded, watching her stalk towards her. I ran my eyes up and down her face. Her lip gloss shined, as though she just put on a fresh coat. For me? Ooooh, yes!
"You and I need to talk. What the HELL were you doing with MY boyfriend?" Maria screeched in anger.
"YOUR boyfriend? Didn't seem like that to me," I reiterated, egging her on.
The air between us hummed with tension. The kind I liked, the kind that screamed sex. I was practically salivating at the thought.
"Do I have to remind you of our little talk earlier?" Maria continued.
"What talk was that?" I responded, batting my eyelashes at her in an exaggerated coquettish gesture.
"Hands off Michael!" Maria reminded me.
"Oh, yeah. He wasn't exactly pushing me away, you know," I said smugly, trying to push her over the edge.
I could practically see the red glazing over her as she shouted, "Slut!" with venom.
"Bitch!" I roared back. I was enjoying myself with this angry repartee. Foreplay. Definitely foreplay.
"Whore!" she managed to come back.
"Hag!" I spewed.
With that last word, she stopped talking and raised an open palm, a signal that a vicious slap was coming.
I caught her hand with mine and pulled her towards me in a rough embrace. I managed to yank her towards the counter, pinning her against it. Then I swooped in.
My mouth claimed hers a violent open-mouthed kiss. I could sense the shock emanating through her. Didn't expect that, did she? I didn't know why she was so shocked. It wasn't as if I hadn't given her enough hints before. Perhaps she thought I was merely goading her with my innuendos, just trying to jerk her chain for the hell of it. She never took me seriously, never took my words seriously unless it involved Clueless Boy. Now she understood it wasn't about him at all. Not at all.
After the initial shock had worn off, she clawed at her, struggling. When that didn't work, she clamped her teeth down, practically trying to tear off my lower lip.
That just served to double my efforts. I yanked my mouth away and held on to her as she wriggled, trying to buck me off of her.
Some kind of hormonal strength flooded me and I placed my hand on the back of her head sharply, trying to keep it in place as I assaulted her lips with mine again. This time, I stuck out my tongue, prying her lips open.
Still, she struggled, moaning a little. That served to give me more access to her hot, delicious little mouth. Her lip gloss had worn off now, coating my lips with their scent. Mmmmmm, strawberry. And perhaps a hint of peach?
She stilled as my tongue tickled the soft bottom of hers, running it tantalizing slow at first, then faster and faster until I drew circles around the whole of hers. Soft, rasping breath started to come out of her. Her struggles ceased as she gave in to my ministrations.
I was tasting heaven. I was tasting her. For a few seconds, I merely reveled in it. She pulled back slightly and I let her. Her eyes looked at me in shock. Erotic shock. The best kind there was.
I smiled at her confusion, merely staring at her green, iridescent eyes, then dropping to her full, red mouth. A part of me was expecting some sort of tart reply, some kind of revulsion. But none came. Instead, she continued to look at me, as though she was in a state of suspended animation.
I beamed my eyes towards hers, pulling in all my silent feelings in them. Yes, Maria, it's you I want. It's you, it always has been you. I am looking at you, wanting you like I've always done. I don't care about anything else, not destiny, not your so-called boyfriend, not even my purpose for being here. Just you. Beautiful Maria.
She inclined her head, realization dawning. The spark of acceptance glowed in her. Perhaps it even took her aback, knowing someone was just focused on her, not some strange "big picture" that included all sorts of pain and rejection. Perhaps she wanted to feel what it was like to be wanted just for herself, not as some form of afterthought or sideline. Perhaps that's why I kissed her again and she let me.
I planted soft kisses on her lip and moved sideways past her creamy cheek, down to her neck. Just above her collarbone, I nibbled, drawing some skin in between my teeth and sucking slowly. She drew her head in minimal protest, as though she didn't want me to leave a mark on her.
It didn't matter much to me so I released the skin, bypassing it for more obvious pleasure points. I angled my head down, unbuttoning the first button of her V-necked blouse with my teeth. Her breathing was shallow and I could swear I could hear her heart pounding. More buttons came undone and I snaked my hands towards her back as some form of support.
Red. She was wearing a red bra. That tantalized me more. I brushed my lips over the slight curve of one breast, almost kissing it in reverence. She moaned, probably biting her lip in the process.
I nudged my lips closer to one nipple, the one hidden behind erotic lace. She sucked in breath, holding it in. I teased her a bit, sweeping my wet tongue over her half-revealed globe.
My hands were also busy kneading her back restlessly until it finally alighted on the hook of her bra. I unhooked it slowly, pausing for a mere second before I shrugged her top of blouse off and brushing the straps of her bra away from her front.
The air in the café turned cool as it danced over her open skin. It splayed through her breasts, drawing her nipples into a tight pucker. I could have stared at her and her breasts all day.
They weren't huge, they were just perfect. Enough to fit my trembling hands as I cupped them tenderly. I blew air towards one rosy tip, watching it crinkle even more. Then I moved in for the kill.
Taking the rosy bit between my teeth, making sure I didn't bite down hard enough to hurt her, I suckled it, trying to draw some lifeforce from within her. Moans followed as I felt her hands at the back of my head, touching the hair clip I used to pin my hair up. Shards of pain lanced the back of my skull as her hands dug in deeper, plastering themselves across the clip on my head. But what was a little pain compared to the pleasure of Maria's breast? I intensified the suckling and a small scream tore from her lips. "Oh, God!" she muttered, trying to catch her breath.
That scream served only to stoke the fires within me more and I felt myself getting wet. Christ, she tasted good. Creamy. I wanted to her more of her cries, wanted to see if I could bring her to scream out my name instead of some faceless deity.
I released my hands from her breast and she whimpered, as though pained that she couldn't feel my touch on them anymore. To soothe her, I continued my tongue ministrations on her one nipple. The other I left unattended, trying to make her feel contrast of nakedness and fullness.
My right hand wandered past her smooth navel, her small hairs rising as they crossed paths. Muscles in her navel shuddered as my fingers touched the top of her equally red and matching lacy panties. My left hand dug into the counter ruthlessly.
I managed to stop myself briefly to extricate my right hand from her, then move them down, up and over her skirt. Underneath her skirt.
I palmed her, rubbing the silky material of her underwear against herself. It was moist, but not wet. Not wet enough for my taste anyway. This called for more action.
Switching my mouth to her other breast, I almost sucked it whole. She gave a deathless scream, air trapping in her lungs as she undulated wildly.
I drew my hand inside her underwear and touched her nether lips. It was a wonder she didn't explode right then and there. I stopped to stare and the sight almost did me in.
The angry Maria that I was once thought was so beautiful paled in comparison to this Maria. The aroused Maria was absolutely breath- taking. She sparkled and glowed from within. The look on her face yelled out "Please!" Who was I to deny her that? I smirked, then plunged two fingers deep into her wetness.
She bucked and strained as she felt me inside her. I wiggled my fingers, then wedged them up higher into her. "Ooooooh," she gushed out helplessly.
I reveled in this power, in this knowledge that I could leave her helpless, wanting, longing. How long could I keep this up? A long, long time.
But my own wetness reminded me that enough was enough. I entered a third finger into her, this time stretching her out. My thumb gingerly touched her center, pressing it slightly.
I could feel her eruption coming and readied for it. Pressing her back onto the counter even harder, my mouth captured her right breast, sucking on it viciously as my thumb touched the tip of her clit. My fingers, still stuck halfway into her, pushed, withdrew, attacked until it found paradise. Then with a frenzied motion, my thumb rubbed the dead center of her clit ruthlessly.
Her body wracked, exploded into a splinter of convulsions as her orgasm took her beyond feeling. "Courtneeeeeey," she screamed my name.
A bright flood of delight swept through me. At last, at last, I owned her. She belonged to me. The knowledge sent a similar explosion roaring within and the world, too, faded for me in a brilliant light of pleasure.
Disentangling myself from inside her, I managed to catch deep breaths. Small tremors still rocked her as it did me.
We withdrew from each, amazed at the intensity of feelings that went on. Maria looked at me with the wonder of unseeing eyes. Then the haze cleared.
"No!" I cried out inside as soon I saw that look on her face. That look of utter disbelief, of denial for what just happened.
"Maria!" I attempted to bring back the look, the essence of wonder formerly shooting through her.
"You - I - Get away from me!" she blasted with vitriol. I could see it, see her accusing me for everything. For wanting her, for seeing just her, for loving her.
Hurriedly she rehooked her bra, scrambled to replace her top, brushing it down as if in an effort to wipe away my touch. Her face reddened with shame.
That pissed me off. The fire of desire that burned through me earlier was replaced with intense anger. Anger borne from her denial, her shame. "You wanted this," I shot at her. "You wanted me!"
"You did something to me. You -- " she accused hotly.
"Nothing you didn't want done, sweetheart," I countered. "Or wasn't that you screaming out "Oh, God" and moaning my name earlier?"
Slap! This time, her open palm connected to my face. It stung, but not much as her rejection of what happened between us earlier.
I glared at her, raking my eyes over her form again. I licked my lips, merely as though she was some tasty dish. I hide my pain well, beneath a cover of lust, of challenge, of antagonism.
"Oh, no, you don't, you BITCH!" Maria yelled in no-not-again-never- again voice. She looked rather helplessly around her, as though searching for an end to this seemingly unbelievable situation.
"Michael," the name came from her lips. It shot daggers through me. Him again. Why was it always him? Why couldn't it be me?
"He's not here. Maybe you should ask Isabel where he is," I taunted, sensing that was one of her weak spots. At this point, I didn't care how much it hurt her. I was smarting from the low blow she dealt me.
"I will rip out your goddamned tongue, you bitch," she blasted me. She moved towards me in a motion that said she was serious, then halted. She reversed direction and stalked out the back door, leaving me alone in the café.
I stood there like a lost soul, wondering what the hell just happened. I wanted to run after her, to make her realize what we had become. Bonded. Mated. But my feet still stood, my head remembering that vile look on her face as our actions dawned on her. She hadn't felt the same way. She didn't see how I wanted her, how she always came first with me. She still wanted him. That jerk who tossed her aside in search of some stupid, silly quest. I wasn't enough. A part of me wanted to weep at the injustice. An even greater part thirsted for vengeance, for throwing what I offered her back in my face.
"Bitch, huh? I'll show you what a bitch is," I vowed.
I went to my locker, throwing its doors open and grabbing an almost forgotten picture inside and a felt tip pen.
"Ah, the royal four. No, the stupid four," I looked on at the color photograph of Michael, Max, Isabel and Tess. "No, not the four. Only you, Michael, only you." With that, I uncapped the pen and circled in red ink Michael's face. A bull's eye.
I pursed my lips together tightly, put back the picture and pen and shut my locker door with a resounding slam. I didn't bother with the lock.
I started walking towards the back door, slightly tensing up and withdrawing the clip that pulled up my hair. The clip that dug onto my scalp as Maria pushed on it. I felt a refueling of anger.
"Payback will be a bitch, Maria," I said out loud as I tossed the hair clip on the kitchen counter and stalked out of the café.
To be continued ...
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