The bathroom reeked of beer and cheap cologne, the mirror streaked with fingerprints. Clarke had barely locked the door before she spun Lexa around and bent her over the chipped porcelain sink.
Lexa’s palms braced against the basin, her breath fogging up the mirror as Clarke slid in from behind with a sharp thrust that made the omega bite back a gasp.
“You couldn’t wait,” Lexa whispered, a mix of heat and amusement curling in her voice.
“You wore that fucking dress,” Clarke growled, hips snapping forward again. “You knew what you were doing.”
The music thudded through the walls, bass syncing with Clarke’s rhythm. Lexa clenched around her, whining low in her throat, already close from the anticipation that had built since the second Clarke walked through the door of Tau Omicron Alpha’s holiday bash.
A loud bang bang bang against the door.
“Yo! Hurry the fuck up, people gotta piss!” someone yelled.
Clarke didn’t stop.
Lexa’s eyes fluttered shut, her forehead dropping to the cool mirror. “They’re gonna break the door down.”
“Let them try,” Clarke gritted out, hand fisting in Lexa’s dress as she drove in deeper. “You’re mine tonight.”
Another series of knocks. “Seriously! This isn’t a motel!”
Clarke leaned forward, lips brushing Lexa’s ear. “You can tell them to wait. Or you can come for me right here.”
Lexa came.
The knocking didn’t stop. But neither did Clarke.
