MAFIN A Marta & Fina fanfic based on Sueños de Libertad

Mírame (Look at Me)

This one-shot is a little something to hold us Mafiners over until Marta and Fina are able to share some more alone time together, and takes place in Fina's room after she returns from Madrid, leaving Marta with her husband jaime in their apartment.

Fina's room:

After getting home from Madrid, Fina couldn't sleep. Her mind kept replaying the look in Marta's eyes when she bid her goodbye on the steps of their apartment, shoving stacks of duros in her hand so she'd make it back to Toledo.

She felt so... so... silly for being so hopeful. She felt so ANGRY that Jaime could just show up and change the course of their night.

She tossed and turned again, hoping she wouldn't wake Claudia up.

She had cried out her rage and sadness, and had no more tears. Now, she was just feeling numb.

As she normally did when she couldn't sleep, she closed her eyes and recalled better times. She'd remember how Marta told her she was the love of her life; the way she had looked at her with such sincerity and desire. She remembered the last time they had been together, which was now several weeks ago. She could still recall the way Marta's sighs and moans sounded as Fina explored Marta's body.

Fina kicked off her sheet with frustration and restlessness. Right then, she decided she would keep her focus on the beauty of what they shared. She would fall asleep remembering Marta's voice, her taste, the smell of her perfume, the way her eyes lit up when she held Fina's face in her hands.

She closed her eyes tightly, and visualized those hands now. They were so strong, so sexy, so feminine. She imagined tracing the beauty marks on her arms all the way up to her neck. Fina's heartbeat increased, and she could feel her breath coming in faster. Fina couldn't believe how much even the memory of their nights together aroused her.

Lately, seeing Marta in the store and not being able to just reach out and touch her had driven her crazy. Even when angry with each other, she could feel that spark, that pull that drove them together like magnets.  Fina often caught Marta watching her when she thought no one would notice. Fina knew that Marta was also desperate to be alone together again. That's why Marta kept her distance, wanting to keep a semblance of control, but both were fighting a losing battle- they wanted each other so badly.

The next time they were alone, Fina was determined to make sure Marta had no doubt who she belonged to.

Fina lowered her hand down to touch her breast, imagining that it was Marta's nimble fingers that stroked her. She imagined Marta's mouth partly open, and those cerulean eyes looking at back at her, hypnotizing her. Oh, Marta, Fina thought. She reached down further to her belly. She remembered how Marta had tentatively stroked her, promising that she would learn every corner of Fina's body. Oh, how she loved reliving how Marta touched her so shyly at first, with so much restrained desire that she shook. Fina squirmed and felt herself throbbing. Ester had taught Fina how to touch herself, insisting that doing so was not a sin, but a way to get to know your body better, and she was not wrong. Tonight, Fina thought, the pleasure her own hands could give her was the only reprieve from the shock, indignation, and grief that threatened to overtake her when she remembered that  her lover was giving her body to someone else tonight.

She stroked herself more feverishly now, holding the image of Marta's hands, lips, fingers, tongue, and teeth, at the center of her mind- hearing her voice repeatedly say, "You are the love of my life." Fina was swollen under own fingers, now. Sweat pooled at her back, her nipples straining against her cotton nightgown. With one hand buried deep inside of herself, she used the other hand to squeeze her breast, and imagined Marta touching her while commanding her to "Look at me, Fina. Mírame". Remembering Marta's voice, at once firm and commanding and tender and erotic, was her undoing. She felt herself stiffen, her thighs tense, and wetness coat her fingers. Oh, Marta. You're mine, Fina thought.