Title: Pale Substitute
Pairing: Cara/Denna Legend of the Seeker
Summary: Save Our Seeker fic. Cara visits Denna at her place of business. Basically its angry!sex ok?
Disclaimer: Legend of the Seeker and its characters are not mine. No infringement intended, no profit made.
"Cara, I can't honestly say I'm surprised." Denna's tone is velvet mockery – honey coating a steel blade.
Cara savors the sting, meeting her former Sister's dangerous smile with one of her own. They don't walk too meet each other so much as stalk – two predators circling each other, testing the boundaries of each other's will.
"Does this mean you're going to turn me away, Sister?" Cara replies, arching one golden eyebrow.
Something flickers across the smooth planes of Denna's face. "As long as you have coin, I won't turn anyone away."
There is thread of distaste – a single note of discord woven through the blonde woman's silken tone – that Cara's trained ear picks up easily. Her instinct to exploit weakness, any weakness is as ingrained as the instinct to draw breath and she moves into Denna's space.
"What's the matter Denna, current clientele not to your liking?" Cara nearly hisses it, leaning in so her breath caresses the other woman's jawline. She is close enough to see the tender flush in alabaster cheeks, close enough to see the flare of blood in the other woman's pulse. She wants to sink her teeth into that flawless skin, to feel that warm flesh beneath her lips. She wants more…
Denna moves away, eyes narrowed and avoids the bait. "I can provide you with whatever happens to be to your…taste." Now it is Denna's eyes that narrow in calculation.
"Perhaps a brunette with creamy, pale skin and a dusting of freckles, with ice blue eyes and luscious breasts?" The former Mord'Sith's smile grows colder as she watches Cara struggle not to react.
"How about I just take you," Cara growls, stepping into Denna.
For a moment Cara thinks the older woman will refuse, but something flashes in cobalt eyes and instead of responding, Denna fists a hand in Cara's hair and kisses her brutally. Lips meet in a struggle as Cara shoves Denna back against the wall hard enough to bruise. They separate only long enough to make it to Denna's private chamber – which Cara notes with approval is sumptuously appointed, apparently the skin trade hasn't been too unkind to her former Sister – before she is shoved roughly back against the bed.
What follows cannot be called love. It certainly can't be called intimacy. Instead it is a struggle of wills played out in the score of nails over flawless skin, in the sweat slickened press of muscled curves, in the seeking heat of mouths and the mark of teeth.
Pain and pleasure blur as they vie for dominance, aggression and passion becoming one in a glorious tangle of supple limps and blonde hair and fingers sinking into wet heat.
Afterward, still breathing harshly, Cara rolls away. Her body still pulses with the lingering residue of her release and her skin pulls in the places where Denna has marked her. There is no gentleness between them as Cara moves to find her clothes.
After all, they both got what they came for, even if its not truly what either of them wanted.
She is not allowed to leave without a price however. They had been lovers once before and Denna still understands her far too well. "You'll never have her, you know," the older woman says, and her tone falls well short of mocking. It is almost – but not quite – kind.
Cara does not pause in picking up her leathers and without a backward glance, strides from the room.
She doesn't – because she can't – deny Denna's words however.