Fic: 'No Skin Off Your Back' (Firefly, Inara/Kaylee, PG-13, 1/1) Title: No Skin Off Your Back Fandom: Firefly Characters: Inara/Kaylee Word Count: 393 Rating: PG-13 Spoilers: N/A Challenge: Porn Battle VII: Firefly, Inara/Kaylee, massage Warnings: Sexual content. Disclaimer: No one mentioned belongs to me. Summary: Inara has the most amazing hands Kaylee's ever felt.
No Skin Off Your Back
Inara has the most amazing hands Kaylee's ever felt. She's had her share of boyfriends in the past, the sort who see lumps of flesh and just squeeze without much thought, but Inara understands skin. She locates knots and points of stress and works them out, slowly, so very slowly, until Kaylee feels like liquid. Inara can make her feel absolutely boneless.
Inara works on her shoulders first, which are sore from twisting up inside a ventilation shaft all afternoon. Inara's fingers are coated with oil, but they're sure, and they dig right into a spot that Kaylee didn't even knew hurt until Inara touched it. It won't matter; in a few minutes, Kaylee will be a useless pile of flesh, so she tries to relax as Inara kneads. She smooths the skin of Kaylee's bare back up and down, working down her arms and sides, the lightest of fingertip brushes against the sides of Kaylee's breasts, smushed into Inara's soft bed. She tries to think of the last person that's touched her there that wasn't herself, and suddenly that ache of pain is gone and replaced with the ache of something else. Kaylee groans huskily, and then a heat creeps up her cheeks that isn't from the soothing, warm incense of the room.
She's not sure why she's embarrassed, or even why she should be, but she is. Inara doesn't care. Inara probably hears sounds like that all the time. Kaylee's certainly made sounds like that before. Maybe she's embarrassed because she meant it, meant the throaty growl of pleasure that was partially begging for something more.
"Do you do this for all your clients?" she asks, her voice higher than normal, to try and make up for the sound she just made.
"Only the ones that deserve it," Inara mutters behind her, leaning forward slightly, the satin-covered tips of her breasts brushing against Kaylee's back, her fingers sliding over Kaylee's arms and tattooing the skin there with her fingers. "But you're not a client," she adds, pressing a kiss to the nape of Kaylee's neck.
"Turn over," says Inara, a command that isn't really, and Kaylee obliges, letting the candlelight cast dancing patterns over her breasts. Inara traces the shadows with her fingers, cupping and kneading and flicking oil-slick fingers over Kaylee's nipples.
Kaylee moans again, but there's no embarrassment anymore.