challenge 66 - taste
Author: Missmai_chan
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Pairing: Starbuck/Roslin
Rating: PG - You guys will have to wait till next challenge for the really down n dirty stuff.
Word Count:
A/N: Another supplement in the continuing 'Booty Call' Roslin/Buck drabble series. Roslin has taken charge of the situation (as she is wont to do) and Kara now has her hands full - literally. How will she respond to the 'call of booty'? Kara takes stock of her predicament.
Chest to chest, one hand gripping the edge of Roslin's desk and the other pushing against (what she suspected were silk) underwear, Starbuck had little time to think in any meaningful way. Could she go through with this? She cleared her throat.
Roslin sensed her hesitation.
She felt guilty for not responding immediately to her President's less than subtle command - she lowered her eyes. What was wrong with her? She had found it easy to frak Boomer behind the vipers before morning shift - there'd been no hesitation then. She suspected she'd even drunkenly frakked Callie once, from the way she'd been avoiding her the last few months.
Come on Kara, what's going on here? What's the problem, huh?
"I can't."
Roslin didn't even flinch. Her face did not fall, she did not respond the way all of Kara's other rejected lovers had.
"Oh yes, I think you want a taste of me."
Oh Gods, does she know? Kara attempted to step back, but only succeeded in encouraging Roslin to reach out her arms and tangle them in her hair.
She didn't see it coming. Roslin smiled before violently yanking a handful of blonde, causing Kara to cry out and wince before being pulled into savage kiss. She felt the President bite her lower lip, those porcelain teeth pressing down until she could taste her own blood, earthy and warm.
She knows, she knows. This is how I've wanted her for months. Her cunt pulsed, tight as a clenched fist.
------
TBC
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Pairing: Starbuck/Roslin
Rating: PG - You guys will have to wait till next challenge for the really down n dirty stuff.
Word Count:
A/N: Another supplement in the continuing 'Booty Call' Roslin/Buck drabble series. Roslin has taken charge of the situation (as she is wont to do) and Kara now has her hands full - literally. How will she respond to the 'call of booty'? Kara takes stock of her predicament.
Chest to chest, one hand gripping the edge of Roslin's desk and the other pushing against (what she suspected were silk) underwear, Starbuck had little time to think in any meaningful way. Could she go through with this? She cleared her throat.
Roslin sensed her hesitation.
She felt guilty for not responding immediately to her President's less than subtle command - she lowered her eyes. What was wrong with her? She had found it easy to frak Boomer behind the vipers before morning shift - there'd been no hesitation then. She suspected she'd even drunkenly frakked Callie once, from the way she'd been avoiding her the last few months.
Come on Kara, what's going on here? What's the problem, huh?
"I can't."
Roslin didn't even flinch. Her face did not fall, she did not respond the way all of Kara's other rejected lovers had.
"Oh yes, I think you want a taste of me."
Oh Gods, does she know? Kara attempted to step back, but only succeeded in encouraging Roslin to reach out her arms and tangle them in her hair.
She didn't see it coming. Roslin smiled before violently yanking a handful of blonde, causing Kara to cry out and wince before being pulled into savage kiss. She felt the President bite her lower lip, those porcelain teeth pressing down until she could taste her own blood, earthy and warm.
She knows, she knows. This is how I've wanted her for months. Her cunt pulsed, tight as a clenched fist.
------
TBC