Lazy mornings are rare for both of them. Working shifts usually means early starts, late nights or odd free afternoons, and seldom spent together. For once, however, and through no scheming on their part, they find themselves at home with a whole day ahead of them.
Bernie wakes up, blinking in the sunshine, and she realises they’ve forgotten to pull the blinds before going to sleep. An RTC had meant stumbling to bed around 3 in the morning, Serena barely able to remove her make up before sinking under the duvet.
She’s facing away from Bernie, her back bare, the duvet having fallen around her waist during the night. Bernie smiles, still a little sleepy, and scoots closer, slips an arm under Serena’s head and another over the curve of Serena’s hip.
Serena is warm and soft and Bernie sighs with happiness as she settles against her, curves matching, Serena shifting slightly in her arms.
“Morning,” Bernie hears.
Bernie hums happily in Serena’s nape, her nose and mouth caressing the soft skin there. Serena’s voice is low and deep, and leaves shivers down Bernie’s body. She gets even closer, her breasts pressed against Serena’s back and her legs tangled in Serena’s.
“Morning,” she replies, and leaves little kisses where Serena’s hair starts, down the first ridges of her spine.
Serena arches her back a little, and Bernie breathes out shakily, Serena’s hips against her belly.
She doesn’t think she’ll ever tire of waking next to Serena, of being privileged enough to see her without any of her walls up, to bask in the glorious sunshine that is the woman in her arms.
Serena tries to turn but Bernie tightens her hold, and her hand travels up Serena’s body, her fingers brushing the underside of Serena’s breasts.
Bernie smiles and the kisses on Serena’s neck become a little more focused. Serena takes her hand and slides it over her breast. Bernie chuckles and rolls her hips, the contrast enough to make her hum, and she covers Serena’s breast with her hand, her thumb grazing Serena’s nipple. She smiles when she hears Serena whimper. It’s a sound she’s become very familiar with, and it never fails to make her belly clench.
Serena is loud in bed. She moans, gasps, groans and growls. She talks. She isn’t embarrassed to ask for what she wants. She is free with her praise. Bernie is reminded of their first night together, when they had all but launched themselves at each other with trembling hands and eager mouths. Serena had whispered all the things she’d wanted Bernie to do to her, eyes black with want.
Bernie hears another whimper and concentrates on the now. They have the house to themselves, Jason is with Alan for a couple of days in London, and Serena can scream the place down if she wants. Bernie has every intention to help her.
“Bernie,” Serena whispers, and Bernie recognises the need in her voice.
Serena arches her back, her hand on top of Bernie’s on her breast, encouraging for more pressure. Bernie rolls the nipple between her thumb and finger. Serena moans, the sound deeper than usual because she’s just woken up. Bernie uses her teeth where Serena’s neck meets her shoulder, the skin pliant, and Serena throws her head back, mouth open in a breathless gasp.
It’s taken Bernie a little while to be completely comfortable with what Serena likes in bed. It’s rougher than Bernie’s own preferences, but Serena has reassured, cajoled, seduced and convinced her not to be afraid of using her strength a bit more.
Serena likes to be bitten and marked. She keens when Bernie scratches her back, she cries out when Bernie pulls her hair and she clutches the sheets with white knuckled hands when Bernie bites the inside of her thighs. Bernie finds herself enjoying the secret thrill of knowing Serena carries her marks under her scrubs.
Bernie switches breasts and Serena closes her eyes, her hips matching Bernie’s, rolling together in tandem. Bernie catches Serena’s earlobe in her teeth and Serena chokes out a whine, her hands trembling.
“Easy there, Ms Campbell,” Bernie whispers hotly in Serena’s ear, enjoying the way Serena shivers at her words.
Bernie was never a talker in bed before Serena, but she knows how much Serena gets off on hearing what Bernie is going to do to her.
“You’re not the one being teased,” Serena breathes out, panting.
Bernie chuckles and nips at the earlobe.
“But you love being teased,” she replies softly.
Serena swallows, her breathing harsh in the quiet of the room.
“I can stop if you want,” Bernie continues lightly, stilling her hands and her hips.
“No!” Serena cries out, eyes open and a little wild.
Bernie licks her neck and Serena sighs in relief.
“Ok, then,” Bernie says soothingly. She was never going to stop and they both know it.
She kisses Serena under her ear, where the skin is the softest.
“Tell me what you want,” Bernie asks, her hand still caressing Serena’s breasts, alternating between soft touches and little pinches.
Serena twists her head and slips a hand in Bernie’s hair. Her eyes are dark and Bernie can feel her frantic heartbeat under the palm of her hand.
“I want you to use your mouth,” Serena says.
The room stills and Bernie has to bite her lip to stay in the moment and not come all over Serena’s thigh. She breathes in and out slowly and turns Serena on her back, resting between her legs, bodies flush together. Serena brings her down for a kiss, their first real one of the morning, and Bernie can tell Serena won’t last long because the kiss is messy and desperate, which is exactly how Bernie likes it.
“Anything you want,” Bernie promises in Serena’s ear and she smiles at how Serena’s hands grasp her hips.
She has never spoken truer words. Her favourite thing in the world is to make Serena come apart, to make her forget her own name, to feel her shake. She spends time on Serena’s neck and her collarbones, sucks on her breasts, her teeth teasing her nipples, and Serena is effusive with her responses, her moans making Bernie’s head spin.
Bernie leaves a few marks on Serena’s belly to show her appreciation for one of her favourite places, and slides between Serena’s legs. Serena is following her every movement, her look intent and hot on Bernie’s skin. Bernie has done this a hundred times by now but it still feels so new and exciting and joyous to see Serena waiting, her chest heaving and her fingers clutching the sheets.
Bernie smiles and Serena smiles back, her eyes full of love and desire and Bernie can’t quite believe how lucky she is to have this.
“I love you,” she says quietly.
She knows she should say it more often, but she hopes Serena always knows just how much she adores her. Serena smiles.
“Oh, me too, darling, so much,” she replies.
Bernie lowers her head and kisses the soft skin of Serena’s inner thighs. Serena raises her knees and moans, her hands flying to Bernie’s hair. Bernie looks up and stares at the sight of Serena with her head thrown back, the soft planes of her body on show for Bernie’s greedy eyes. She sucks a bruise and hums and licks the mark, Serena gasping above her.
“God, Bernie, yes,” Serena breathes out, her hips rolling against Bernie’s mouth.
Bernie won’t be rushed. She licks a path from Serena’s knee back to her thigh, her hands dipping under Serena. Serena bucks when Bernie leaves a bite mark to match the bruise on the opposite thigh.
“Oh, please Bernie, please,” Serena cries out.
Bernie can see how ready Serena is, how wet and swollen she is, and it takes her breath away. “I did that” she thinks with pride. She leans and takes Serena in her mouth, dimly hearing a shout. She starts slow, building up a rhythm she has learned from experience. Serena would never admit it but she likes Bernie to draw things out. She pushes back one of Serena’s thighs to get better access and Serena makes a low keening sound that starts in her throat and comes out all strangled. Serena’s hips are in constant movement and her hands press against Bernie’s neck, her feet digging into Bernie’s back. Bernie looks up and finds Serena staring back. Her skin is flushed and covered in a film of sweat and she’s never looked so beautiful.
Bernie sucks harder, past the point of what she would find comfortable and Serena breaks eye contact, her body taut and she comes with a shout, fluttering against Bernie’s tongue. Bernie sees her through it with gentle licks and caresses, and comes up readily when Serena grabs her with shaky hands. Her hair is all over the place, a few strands plastered on her forehead, a brilliant smile on her lips. Bernie’s heart soars.
“Good morning, Major,” she says and she kisses Bernie slowly.
Bernie hums happily and gathers Serena in her arms, feels Serena’s heart against her ribs. Serena slips on top of her with a grin, a raised eyebrow, her eyes dancing, the very picture of trouble. Bernie gulps. She knows the look, feels her pulse skyrocket.
Serena flips them over with a practised move that makes Bernie laugh then moan, because suddenly she has one of Serena’s thighs between her own and the pressure is delicious even if it’s not nearly enough. She starts rocking unconsciously, captivated by Serena’s dark eyes, but Serena stills her.
“Come up here,” Serena says, her skin flushed again.
Bernie moans just at the image and lets herself slide upwards under Serena’s sure hands. She carefully puts a knee on either side of Serena’s head and grabs onto the headboard with a whimper. Serena grabs her hips and lowers her and Bernie has to close her eyes if she wants to last more than two seconds. Her hips roll into Serena’s mouth and she can barely recognise the sounds coming out of her own lips. There is only pleasure and the grounding sensation of her hands clutching the wood of the headboard. She risks looking down and Serena’s eyes are black and she hears her growl and it hits her again that it’s Serena between her thighs, her best friend, the woman she loves, and she comes and comes, curled on herself, body shaking and her throat raw. It seems to last for ever and her vision goes grey at the edges, and when she comes to her senses, she’s in Serena’s arms, lips against her neck, panting harshly.
Serena is caressing her shoulder and kissing her forehead and Bernie feels safe and content, limbs heavy and brain still a little fuzzy.
The sun is high in the sky now and it looks like it’s a beautiful day.
“I might start requesting this kind of wake up call every morning,” Serena jokes, stretching like a pleased cat.
Bernie flips onto her belly and looks up, gazing at Serena like a loved up teenager.
“I wouldn’t want to make the boss late,” Bernie replies with all the cheek she can muster.
Delight lights up Serena’s eyes.
“I hear she’s a real slave driver,” Serena says with a quirk of her lips.
“Oh, I don’t know, you just have to know what she likes,” Bernie says casually, her hand tracing Serena’s ribs.
Serena sucks in a breath.
“What does she like, then?” She asks with fluttering eyelashes and innocent eyes.
Bernie slips on top of her and grabs Serena’s hands when she tries to touch her, puts them above her head, holds them down in one of hers. She lowers her head and kisses Serena, hard.
“She likes it a little rough,” Bernie says in Serena’s ear.
Serena whimpers, her hips already moving.
“Isn’t that right?” Bernie asks, biting Serena’s collarbone.
Serena nods frantically, her pupils blown, her mouth open and trying to form words. Bernie slides a hand down Serena’s body and spreads Serena’s legs, heart thumping at Serena’s desperate whines. She doesn’t waste time and slips two fingers into Serena, her breath hitching at the slick wetness that coats them instantly. Serena cries out and Bernie lets her set the rhythm, uses her hips to meet Serena’s thrusts and kisses Serena senseless, swallows her moans and pins her down. Serena makes that keening sound again and comes with a choked growl, her eyes screwed shut and her hands straining against Bernie’s hold. She is beautiful and Bernie releases her and embraces her tightly, pressing kisses on her magnificent face, licks the few tears that have rolled down her cheeks.
“Jesus, Bernie,” Serena manages to say after a while.
Bernie hums and smiles, her heart full. Serena is flopped besides her, and from her breathing Bernie can tell she’s falling back asleep.
“I’m going to make us lunch, you stay here,” Bernie says as she gets up on slightly wobbly legs.
Serena mutters something unintelligible and Bernie snickers, pretty smug about it all. She grabs a robe that’s hanging behind the door and slips out quietly. The house is bathed in sunshine, the fridge humming quietly, and Bernie sings to herself as she puts together sandwiches. She stays clear of Jason’s cold cuts, knows he will notice if anything is missing, and she grabs the cold chicken from a previous roast and the jar of mayonnaise instead. Serena gets pickles and Bernie winces as she puts them in. She tries to remember a tune about walking on sunshine but gives up and she just hums the melody, a smile playing on her lips. She wonders what Serena will want to do with their afternoon. They have to go to the post office to send a few care packages for Bernie’s old regiment, and Serena needs to pick up her blouses from the dry cleaner’s, but the rest of the day is theirs. Bernie washes her hands and takes the fruit of her labour upstairs, and when she re-enters the bedroom, she finds the bed empty.
“In here,” she hears coming from the bathroom.
Bernie can smell the bubble bath Serena favours and there’s classical music playing from an old radio wedged on the windowsill. Bernie smiles, her belly swooping. The sandwiches can wait, and so can their chores. She practically runs to the bathroom, sheds the robe on the way.
“What took you so long?” Serena protests.
She is covered in bubbles, but Bernie can see her knees poking out of the water and her mouth dries. She closes the door behind her and steps in the bath carefully, sitting in front of Serena, gasping a little at the feel of wet silky skin.
Maybe they’ll stay in today. Maybe they’ll go for a walk, go to the high street. Maybe Bernie will finally let Serena buy her a winter hat after protests and promises of kisses. Whatever they do, the day will end with Serena falling asleep in Bernie’s arms.
For the first time in her life, Bernie knows that today is just one of many. Future days off might include Jason, or Cameron or Charlotte, or all three, and the thought warms her heart. The woman trying her hardest to turn a relaxing bath into something far more exciting has become her whole life. She gasps when Serena’s hands trail her arms and then her belly, her mouth hot on her neck. Bernie forgets her musings and closes her eyes.
Lazy mornings are rare and precious, and Bernie fully intends to savour this one.