Prompt 53 with Garrick pretty please?! Iâm obsessed with your writingâŚAGH
(Photos courtesy of Pinterest)
Summary: "Don't say things like that unless you mean them."
Authors Note: Thank you so much! I am just as obsessed with this man <3
It had always been uncomplicated with Garrick.
At least, thatâs what the two of you pretended.
No promises. No labels.
Just him showing up at your door late at night with that lazy grin that always made your stomach flip, and you letting him in every single time.
It was easier that way.
Because Garrick had already graduated.
Because you still had another year at Basgiath.
Because riders died all the time, and getting attached to someone too deeply felt dangerously stupid.
And several other reasons you told yourself after the third time.
So instead, you settled into this strange in-between.
Friends who touched each other too much.
Who kissed like they had something to prove.
Who kept finding excuses to come back.
And now, with whispers of unrest spreading through Navarre and tension hanging thick through the college halls, everything feels sharper somehow.
The incoming threat of the attack hangs heavy in the air, tangled up with the choking stench of fear. Riders, healers and infantry cadets move through the halls with sharp, chaotic energy.
Like everyone suddenly understands how fragile everything really is and that tomorrow might not be guaranteed.
Youâre standing on one of the outer balconies overlooking Basgiath when you hear footsteps behind you.
You donât even have to turn around.
âYouâre hiding.â
Garrickâs voice slides over your skin warm and familiar.
You lean against the stone railing. âMaybe I just wanted five minutes where nobodyâs panicking.â
He hums softly in agreement before stepping beside you.
For a while, neither of you speak.
The wind catches his dark hair, and you glance at him from the corner of your eye.
He looks stressed, worried and tired, more tired than youâve ever seen him.
Something twists painfully in your chest.
âYou okay?â you ask quietly.
His eyes flick toward you.
âNow I am.â
You roll your eyes a little, but your pulse betrays you.
Because that look in his eyesâ
Gods.
Itâs too intense. Too serious.
Before you can think better of it, you step closer and fix the crooked collar of his jacket, brushing your fingers over the worn leather.
âYou should try and get some sleep before it starts,â you murmur.
His hand catches your wrist gently before you can pull away.
The touch is careful, almost hesitant, which is so unlike Garrick that it immediately makes your stomach tighten.
âWhat?â you whisper.
He stares at you for a long moment, jaw tense like heâs fighting with himself.
Then quietlyâ
âIâm in love with you.â
Your breath catches.
The world seems to stop around you.
No sounds. No wind.
Nothing except the way heâs looking at you like heâs finally saying something heâs been holding back for far too long.
You let out a soft disbelieving laugh, mostly because your heart is suddenly trying to beat its way out of your chest.
âGarrickâŚâ
âI mean it.â
âYou donât have to say that because everythingâs about to go to shit.â
His brows pull together immediately. âThatâs what you think this is?â
âI think,â you say carefully, trying and failing to keep your voice steady, âthat people say reckless things before battles.â
His grip on your wrist tightens slightlyânot enough to hurt, just enough to keep you there.
âIâve been in love with you for months.â
Your throat goes dry.
âYouâre serious?â
He actually looks offended.
âCompletely and utterly gone.â
You shake your head faintly, overwhelmed. âDonât say things like that unless you mean them.â
The words come out smaller than you intended.
More vulnerable.
Because the truth is, Garrick has always had this terrifying ability to make you want things you promised yourself not to want.
Something in his expression softens instantly.
Then he steps closer.
Close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him.
Close enough that your breathing tangles together as you raise your head to meet his eye as he towers over you.
âI mean it,â he says again, quieter this time. âI mean every fucking word.â
Your heart stutters violently.
"I just kept telling myself not to say it because the timingâs shit and you deserve more than whatever this has been. But every time I've had to walk away from you, it's almost killed me."
His forehead rests lightly against yours.
"And I'll be damned if I don't tell you now, right before thing's are about to go to shit. I may never get another chanceâ"
Garrick's suddenly voice catches and he takes a deep breath and stops and watches your face to gauge your reaction.
âYouâre an asshole for doing this to me,â you whisper weakly.
A grin tugs at his mouth. âDoing what?â
âMaking me fall in love with you back.â
A soft laugh escapes him, but thereâs something emotional underneath it.
âLet me make up for it then.â
Then his hand slides up to cup your jaw.
And when he kisses youâ
Gods.
Thereâs nothing casual about it.
Nothing teasing or half-hearted like all the stolen kisses before this.
This kiss feels devastatingly deliberate.
Like heâs trying to pour every unspoken feeling into it.
His mouth moves against yours slowly at first, almost careful, before the restraint breaks completely when he feels you kiss him back. He kisses you deeper, more desperate, one hand sliding around your waist to pull you flush against him.
You make a small sound against his mouth, fingers gripping the front of his jacket.
He kisses you like he means it, like heâs been wanting to do this properly for a very long time.
When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing harder.
Your forehead falls against his.
âYou picked a hell of a time to tell me,â you murmur.
His thumb brushes softly across your cheek.
âThe possibility of losing you tends to put things into perspective.â
Emotion swells painfully in your chest.
So instead of saying anything, you kiss him again.
And this time, when Garrick smiles against your mouth, you realise neither of you are pretending anymore.
Synopsis: Your first Solstice in Aretia is sure to bring all sorts of chaos -- especially when Garrick's never seen you in a dress before.
Pairing: Garrick Tavis X Reader (Cosette)
Word Count: 2.3k
Includes: Incredibly suggestive content and dialogue (18+!!), but no explicit smut, this is just me being horny during the Christmas season and taking it out on Garrick and Cosette. Inappropriate use of signets. There is no plot here; just ovulation. Takes place whenever.
The day went by faster than you'd have expected, but from the way Garrick leans against the threshold of your shared bedroom door, you'd think he'd been there for hours.
Dramatic bastard. Twenty minutes have barely passed; he sighs. "How's it going in there, lovely?"
"Good!" comes your reply, muffled through layers of wood and wards. "I'm almost done, I swear. I'm just doing some touch-ups."
Almost done, his ass. You'd been almost done an hour ago.
"Just touch-ups?" he repeats, a brow arching. "Are you sure?"
"Of course I am," you scoff. He winces as something clatters in the room, probably against the desk by the mirror. "I'm being precise."
At that, his impatience gives way to amusement. "You sound quite serious about this precision."
"I'm excited!" you tell him, your voice brighter than it's sounded in, admittedly, a long time. "I haven't gotten the chance to be dolled up inâŚgods know how long. I like my leathers, but I missed my dresses, too."
Garrick groans softly. "When can I look, then? I want to see you."
A laugh. "I never said you weren't allowed in. Just don't look yet; I want it to be a surprise."
He's never entered a room so fast in his life. Per your request, he keeps his gaze on the floor (funny, since he's seen you naked a number of times) and plops down on the bed.
A sweet laugh sounds from your side of the room. "You're looking quite handsome."
"Don't tease me," he whines. "When can I look, sweetheart?"
"I don't tease," you sniff, setting something back down on the desk. "All I said is that you look handsome. Can a woman not appreciate her husband verbally?"
"Not if he can't appreciate his woman back," he grumbles, his pretty lips dipping into a pout. "That's a wedding tradition, not a Solstice one."
"It'll be the same then, too." His shoulders sink a little, but he straightens once you click your tongue. "That should do it, I think. You can look now."
His head snaps up, andâ
âŚOh.
Oh, fuck.
It's one thing to know that your girl is a princess. To see her dressed like one is another.
The dress suits you well. Too well. The fabric is sage green, the kind more suited for summer than winter, but the color is absolutely perfect for you. The bodice molds to your skin and enters a shallow V between your breasts. Those sleeves â gods, the sleeves â are long, hanging like the dresses of elves in storybooks his mother used to read before bedtime, andâŚwhat kind of fabric is that? Tulle? Silk? Whatever the fuck it is, it's pretty sheer, and it's beautiful.
He can't stop staring.
"Well?" you ask, a tad shy from his silence. "Is the color okay?"
Garrick remains wordless, his eyes trailing from your to the end of your dress and back again. He shifts imperceptibly, his hips, and meets your gaze.
Then, he raises a hand â his index finger. Twirls it around in a silent request.
Spin for me.
Your cheeks heat, perhaps from the intensity of his stare, but you obey nonetheless, twirling slowly so that he can get an eyeful of the back and see it move. You come to face him once more, giggling quietly at his awe. It's cute; you mean, it's not like he's never seen you in a dressâ
âŚ
Wait.
No.
This is the first Solstice you've celebrated since coming to Aretia. The first event outside of Basgiath; outside of uniforms. Outside of black leather.
Garrick has never seen you in a dress before â and certainly not one like this.
âŚThat would explain a lot, actually. Like the way his eyes keep traveling up and down your body, as if he's calculating every detail and inch of what you're wearing like some type of tactical pursuit. That's what he is, at heart: a strategist. He's just never had to think so hard about what to do next when it comes to you.
Then, faster than your eye can track, he's standing, sweeping you into his arms and turning you back to the mirror. His chest rises and falls under your back, a tad unsteady, his hands finding and palming your hips under the fabric of your skirt. Your breath catches in your throat; the hazel of his eyes has vanished to a tiny sliver compared to the dialation of his pupils, making his gaze darker, hypnotic.
"âŚGare?" you breath, not even sure where your hands should be. "What are youâ"
His head drops into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent shakily. Fuck, he thinks. You smell of clean air and lemons â it completely drowns out every other thought in his brain.
"âŚI can't fucking believe I'm marrying you," he mumbles into your skin, his lips working against your neck in the familiar way that sends chills through you. "Oh, gods, I fucking adore you."
Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline and then furrow as he cups your jaw with one hand and begins mouthing at your skin, rolling it between his teeth and sucking softly. Your back arches, allowing him to press further into you and the heat of your flustered form.
You can barely hold back a quiet whine. "Whaâ Stop that," you try to scold him, albeit weakly. "There's no neck on this dress! If you leave a mark, everyone will see it."
He groans. "That's the point, lovely. That's entirely the point."
You can't even look away with how his hand holds your head forward, leaving you to stare at the (frankly, erotic) sight of Garrick's head moving against your neck, biting and sucking little marks that you know you'll have to cover up before you leave the room. It's irresponsible, completely recklessâŚ.
And extremely hot.
"Not now," you protest, using your freer hand to bat at his chest gently. "Later. You can â fuck â have me later, baby. Not now, though. I wannaâŚenjoy Solstice."
"We can still enjoy it in here," he reminds you, his other hand leaving your hip to travel up, up to the bottom of that V â dangerously close to your breasts. "Alone. All night."
You can't be threatened by a good time, but you still insist, "Later. I want to spend time with friends, and then you can take this off of me."
It takes a couple of moments for him to disconnect from your neck, his mouth leaving with a tiny pop that goes straight to your heat. He pouts, but there's no masking the pure desire that glitters in his eyes as he leans down to press his mouth to your ear.
"Okay," he agrees, a bit breathless. "But the moment this door closes behind usâŚ"
You shudder, reaching up and threading your fingers in his hair. Gods â if he's this turned on now, how are you supposed to last for the next few hours?
When you don't reply, his tongue darts out to trace the shell of your ear. "Your choice. Desk, or bed. Dress stays on."
How flushed is your face right now?
He laughs, but it's not as firm as he probably likes it to be. "Don't drink too much, lovely. Can't have you falling asleep tonight." Then, with some reluctance, he releases you and forces himself to plop right back down to his place on the bed like he didn't just fucking ruin you for the night.
You sigh, staring at the darkening marks now decorating your skin. The next few hours are going to be long.
âşââ đ¤Â ââşâ
He doesn't make it two hours before he starts messing with you.
You knew it would happen, honestly. Despite Garrick's stubborn streak and usual composure, he's never been one to hold back around you. Two hours, really, is probably a new record.
Your friend, vowing to stick by you for the night, throws back a shot â one that has your brow knitting. "Are you okay? That's, like, your fourth drink."
She tucks some hair behind her ear and shrugs. "Drinking game."
Your head tilts â you were never told about a game. "What are we drinking for?"
The corner of her lips twitch into a wry smile. "No one told you?" At the shake of your head, she chuckles. "Every time you and Garrick do something suggestive, we take a shot."
Your jaw drops. "What?!" Your head snaps up to stare at everyone around the room that you know personally, analyzing their drinks. "Who the fuck is involved?"
"Relax." The shot glass clinks against your table. "Only friends. Four in an hour is a new high, though."
You scowl and scan the room for Garrick; if they're drinking for suggestive actions, and you've just been sitting there for a whileâ
Ah. That's why.
Garrick sits across the room with Xaden and Bodhi; you figured for the sake of your sanity that staying away from him was probably the safest option. He looks like he's having a grand old time, as always, but once your eyes meetâŚ
There's no mistaking that stare. That's the one that clearly says, "You. Me. Bedroom. Now."
Heat curls low in your stomach, darting through your careful composure and forcing you to grip the edge of your seat loosely. Gods, he's so obvious. No wonder this has been made into a game by your friends.
A single brow raises, and you meet his gaze head-on. The word that leaves your lips is silent, but mouthed clearly enough to see it from where he is.
Behave.
As if summoned by the words, a gentle breeze slips against the back of your neck, and you know straight away that it's nothing natural; Garrick has used his air-wielding to mess with you since your first year, and he hasn't stopped since.
It starts teasing; his wind continues to play with your hair gently, reverently. A sign that speaks of his affection â one that you'd welcome anywhere else.
Then, it slips lower. Down your neck, your collarbone. Toying with the detailing of your necklineâ
And down the valley of your breasts.
You straighten, cheeks growing hot in spite of the cool touch at the way your nipples peak. Eyes narrowing, you level a glare at Garrick, who stares back innocently, that infuriating dimple popping in his cheek with the quick smile he flashes you.
You overestimate his shame when it comes to yourself. As soon as your lips part to utter a curse, a twin breeze flutters lower around the end of your skirt. Snakes its way around your ankle, your calf, sending tingles through your body and an ache to your center.
Your teeth sink into your lower lip, and your glare sharpens.
Garrick's own smile turns feline, because he knows that you're not asking him to stop.
You're daring him to stop. And, oh â he loves a challenge.
So, he does what every reasonable man would do: he keeps going.
It's slow. He traces gentle patterns up your leg, his fingers flexing with the movements as he pretends to listen to whatever Bodhi and Xaden argue about next to him. It's almost unbelievable that a fucking dress would be making him act like this, but then again, it's Garrick. If he was acting any different, you'd be worried.
Well. You couldn't be worried if you wanted to be right now. All you can feel is the cool wind trailing around your leg possessively, like a light extension of his fingers â although less calloused. It lingers at the back of your knee, stroking coaxingly at the sensitive skin before it moves again.
Your thoughts dissolve the moment it curls further up your leg and squeezes around the plush of your thigh.Â
A cough rips from you, barely disguising a laugh, and you lean over to your friend. "Drink," you murmur softly. "I'm out of here."
Her face goes blank. "You both disgust me."
You gather your skirts and push away from the table, gliding confidently through the throng of people towards the exit. Garrick's eyes never leave your form as you approach, never leave the tempting sway of your hips or the intoxicating grace of which you always walk with. You catch him off-guard by making a beeline for him and leaning in to whisper in his ear, but something in him settles when your fingers skim along his broad shoulders. Then, you whisper something low in his ear, and all bets are off.
He's grabbed and made off with you before anyone else can lift their shot glasses.
âşââ đ¤Â ââşâ
You squeak as he lets you go, sending your form stumbling against the desk you'd sat at mere hours before. Despite the rough movement, you laugh. "Was that really necessary?"
He corners you, his intense gaze turning predatory once his hands meet the wood, caging you in. "You just told me," he growls, "that you're not wearing anything under that dress."
Your smile turns absolutely wicked, and all he can do is chuckle dirty and low. "You're so cruel to me, lovely. So very cruel."
"I'm cruel?" You feign innocence as your arms wind around his neck, drawing him closer. "You were eye-fucking me and groping me in front of everyone!"
"And you liked it," he coos, his lips finding your neck again. "I wouldn't have minded doing more if you hadn't gotten up."
You gaze up at him through your eyelashes, your mismatched eyes catching the light so sinfully that Garrick swears you're messing with the lights on purpose. "You don't want to do more now?"
His grin screams of chaos, and from the way his hands begin to roam against your body, against the dress, you know you've started something that won't be stopped anytime soon.
"Of course I do," he murmurs, his teeth catching your jaw playfully. "Now, have you decided? Desk or bed, lovely?"
You pretend to think on it before shrugging plainly. "Surprise me."
Summary: Summer is great â until your sun allergy reminds you of its existence.
You wake up to bright sunlight streaming into your face, tickling your nose, and immediately have to sneeze. You groan. A day starting like this can only get worse. But, lifting a hand against the glare of the sun, you look to your side to see Garrick, and your mood instantly improves. He is just waking up, blinking against the bright light. It must have been your sneeze that roused him.
As he rolls over to face you, a smile spreads over his face at the sight of you. "Good morning, beautiful."
He moves in for a kiss, and you drop the hand shielding your face from the sun and focus on him. When you pull away, the sun is right in your eyes again, and you have to sneeze again. Mentally cursing whatever god is responsible for your suffering, you bury your face in Garrick's neck and grumble something that vaguely sounds like morning â with a lot of imagination, at least.
Garrick chuckles at your bad mood. "You don't think it's a good morning?" he teases, knowing damn well what's bothering you.
"You have no idea how much it sucks to have the sun hitting in your face first thing in the morning when you have sun allergy. If I have to have something hit my face, I'd prefer a fist. At least then I could retaliate."
"I have no doubt you'd beat the sun in a fistfight if you could get close enough to try. It'd definitely deserve it."
His fingers stroke along your arm as he speaks, and you're reminded of the sunburn you got yesterday. The last week had been sunny, the first really hot days of the year, and yesterday, after endless busy days of sweating in your leathers, the two of you had used what little free time you managed to get to go down to the river and swim. What you hadn't considered was that your skin hadn't had time to get accustomed to the sun yet, and you'd both completely burned yourselves. Lifting your head to take a look, you wince at the reddened skin, but at least the rash from your sun allergy is gone.
"I would offer to close the curtains," Garrick adds, "but considering we have to get up in a few minutes anyway, I don't think it's worth it."
Indeed, the heavy black curtains have been left wide open. By the time you returned to your room last night, it had already been dark outside, and you'd been too tired to do anything more than wash the dirt off your feet and put lotion on each other's sunburns before falling into bed. Now you're getting the payback for your laziness â if it wasn't for the sun in your face, you could still be asleep.
As you change your position so you're lying on your stomach with your back to the window, your gaze falls on Garrick's bare torso. "You look like a strawberry."
Garrick pretends to be insulted, and scowls at you. "Don't act like you don't have a sunburn, Cadet Sun Allergy."
"My sun allergy is exactly why I'm allowed to be sunburned," you joke. "What's your excuse?"
"Maybe I didn't get burned by the sun but by how hot you are, have you considered that?"
"Dork," you giggle, swatting at the hand he reaches for you. "We ought to put some lotion on that again."
Garrick hums in agreement, but when you move to get up and grab the lotion, he pulls you on top of him and holds you there.
"What are you doing?"
"The sunburn can wait a bit longer. I'm not letting you out of this bed until I absolutely have to."
"Do not make us be late for class again," you warn. "Last time was trouble enough."
Garrick plays innocent, saying he would never, even as his hands move down your back and dangerously close to your butt. As his lips meet yours, you're already contemplating if maybe being late wouldn't be worth the trouble you'd get into after all.
What can I say. I got into top gun because I love planes and flying so much... today's theme feels tailored for me.
Can you tell I drew this while watching Interstellar? Can you tell "No time for caution" was playing in the background when started going wild on this ??? Hopefully yes.
ALSO. OMG GOING TO SEE TOP GUN 1986 IN THE CINEMA TONIGHT. ILL SEE YOU AT THE MOVIES :D
Shout out to all the Black ppl that can no longer participate directly in the fandom they love because of the stresses of racism đđž you contain multitudes of value and I'm sorry that the color of your skin and the power of your voice makes people not want to acknowledge that.
Well, folks, the numbers are in. We're in a committed relationShip with @ao3org, and it's called...drumroll...TagTeam!
ao3blr was a VERY close second, so go ahead and use that tag too, ya crazy kids.
During a secret rendezvous with the heir of Autumn, you find yourself needing to remain as quiet as possibleâas to not get caught.
Pairing: Eris Vanserra x f!reader
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: smut, p in v, rough sex, quickie, smut no plot, basically this is incredibly short
A/N: Standing ovulationâuh ovationâfor Eris because this was born out of simply being feral for the male. Truly have no idea where this short little thing came from or who I was when I wrote it. Either way hope yall enjoy đ
Being pinned against a wall by a handsome heir was not something youâd anticipated when youâd awoken that day.
A sudden hand had grabbed your arm and pulled you into an empty room, the door shutting behind you with a decisive click. Then youâd been shoved against the wall before youâd even had a chance to take in your surroundings, lips crashing into your own.
You hadnât needed to even question who the individual was. Between the warm spicy scent and the hands that were as familiar to you as your own, you knew.
That and the knowing looks that had been givenâand reciprocatedâbetween you and Eris Vanserra.
His lips were hot on yours and you moaned lightly, the ache that youâd been carrying all day, intensifying. Your hands speared into his hair, gripping the long strands roughly as your mouth moved with his rapidly, tongues twining. You pulled him closer to you, pressing your body to his, his fingers already working at the button of your pants.
All day, heated glances had been shared between the two of youâintent in his eyes as much as you were sure had been in yours. The entire time youâd both been in the same shared space, youâd craved himâached for him.
This hadnât been the first time this had happened. You and Eris had spent quite some time sneaking around behind your friendsâ backs. Partially because you knew they wouldnât necessarily approve of your choice of extracurricularsâat least who it was with.
But what they didnât know wouldnât hurt them either.
Itâd been a while since the two of you had done this thoughâover a month at least since the last time Eris had visited the Night Court.
Today, though, heâd been in your home court for the entire day and you couldnât help the way your body tingled with awareness. The way you felt like your skin prickled under his gaze, desire building the longer you were in close proximity to the heir of the Autumn Court.
He pressed you harder into the wall, lips falling to your throat as one hand curled behind your leg lifting it up to cradle his hipâenough to press his arousal between your thighs. You whimpered at the feel, craving that cock inside you, instantly.
âBeen too long, sweetheart,â he mumbled.
Gods, it had been. Your hips pressed further against him, his hardness such a delicious teasing sensation. He dropped your leg instantly, kissing you hard again before returning to tugging your pants down.
His lips scattered kisses along your jaw as he tugged the material down your legs, spinning you towards the table that was just to the left of where heâd pinned you against the wall. With your pants around your ankles, your movements were already limited, thus making it rather easy for his broad hand to splay across your back, pushing you until you were bent over the edge.
Your hands instantly clutched the edges as you heard the rustle of fabric and you knew he was shifting his pants down just enough out of the way. There was no time, no patience for anything else than just a maneuvering of clothes out of the way just so, his impatience clearly matching yours perfectly.
You were already panting before heâd hardly even touched you.
Then his hands were at your hips and with one abrupt movement, he was inside you, knocking the breath from your lungs for a moment. You were already plenty prepared for him, slick and achingâyou had been all day.
A moan crawled up your throat and just seconds before it could escape, a hand clasped around your mouth. The way his cock filled youâstretched youâwas unlike anything youâd ever felt before, practically indescribable. The feeling of being filled by him again after so long had you moaning again against his hand.
Eris groaned lowly behind you, whether in reaction to the feel of you around his cock or the vibration of your moan against his palm, you werenât sure. His words barely formed around his own pleasured noise.
âDonât want to get us caught, do you?â
You whimpered into his palm, the feeling of his cock inside you just too great to even fathom controlling your noises. He answered with a slow drag of it against your walls, a huge contrast from his rougher entry, only meant to tease you.
You were about to voice yourâalbeit muffledâcomplaint when he instantly retreated, pulling his cock out nearly to the tip before driving forward so roughly, it instantly had you reacting and gripping the edges of the table.
There was nothing gentle about it, his pace rough and brutal from the very beginningâexactly what youâd been craving. His hips pulled back and slammed into yours again making your fingers curl tighter around the edges of the table you were half bent over.
This was what youâd been desiring all dayâhad already been half imagining it, the way heâd fuck you into whatever surface heâd take you on.
The two of you had fucked on any and all surfacesâthe bed, the wall, tables, chairs, even the floor.
You couldnât get enough of him.
Your eyes squeezed shut as his relentless thrusts into you made your entire body react, his own grunts from behind you causing your cunt to tighten around him. Your entire body felt like a livewire, wound too tight, in desperate need of release and numerous poundings from the male behind you.
His body was a solid weight, warm at your back, his thighs pressed against the back of yours. Between his rocking motions his hands spread you even furtherâyou already so far gone in the bliss of him you barely registered the awkward shuffle as he repositioned you better for his taking.
You ground your breasts against the top of the table, giving the hardened nipples under your shirt the friction they needed. As his hips rammed repeatedly into yours, cock hitting deep, your eyes nearly rolled, the desire to be filled by him being fulfilled in all the ways youâd been salivating for.
âGods, I missed this pretty little cunt,â he grunted from behind you.
His hand was still tightly over your mouth, muffling the moans there was no way you could hold back. He pounded harder into you, sending your body rocking against the table with every thrust.
âEriff,â you moaned into his palm, your words distorted by it.
âQuiet,â he hissed.
His free hand reached forward, clasping over yours as he moved harder, faster, his hair falling in a sheet over your back and neck, red strands mixing with the hue of your own. Each exquisite move had your eyes squeezing shut in pure ecstasy, his hand clamping tighter over your mouth in an attempt to silence you further.
You had no idea how he was managing to control his own volume, his own grunts and groans from behind you seemingly loud enough to draw attention. Each sound that escaped his pretty mouth sent you spiraling higher, tightening on his cock in response.
You felt the press of his strong chest against your back as he bent over you, fucking you with all he was worth. You preferred himâwanted himânaked, his bare body pressed against yours. But right now this would do, would take the edge offâsatiate the craving thatâd been plaguing you, gnawing at your bones for far too long.
âMmphâ yeshââ came your smothered garble as your bodies rocked.
Your pleasure was rising higher, you could feel that coil within you winding tighter and you knew you werenât going to last long. His hand left yours, reaching down between your legs until he found his destination, fingers on your clit.
You were panting, moaning, unable to repress your noisesâwhich seemed loud to your own ears, despite his palm flattened over your mouth.
But he just felt that good.
You felt him shift behind you, the new angle even more pleasant than the last. His hand fell from your mouth, quickly hooking his arm around you, the crook of it pressing into your mouth. You moaned loudly into it, teeth sinking into the fabric of his shirtâright over his bicepâas he brought you over the edge into your release.
His fingers worked your clit lightly as his hips pistoned, despite the fact your cunt had clamped around him as your orgasm wracked your body. His head bentâarm shifting firmer against your mouthâand bit down on the side of his hand, muffling his own groan as his climax hit him.
You whimpered into the crook of his arm, lashes fluttering at his pleasure filled groan right by your ear. He kept moving in you, riding out both of your orgasms, wringing every last ounce of pleasure from you that he could.
You were breathless and panting when he finally came to a stand still, his arm falling from your mouth, the hand between your legs sliding up your stomach to rest at your hip. Your legs were trembling as you clung to the table to try and stay upright.
You heard his breath sawing from him, felt his tongue as it dragged a hot path along your jawline before placing a heated kiss at the hinge of your jaw.
You swore you mightâve tightened around his cock again in response to that simple motion. He only gave a deep chuckle, most certainly feeling your reactionâlikely smug about it too.
You were too blissed out to care about his arroganceâeven if it drove you wild half the time. Your brain was much too foggy after such an intense release youâd quite literally needed to bite his bicep.
Even the thought of that had your arousal rising again at just how good the sex had beenâfast, hard, rough, the need to keep quiet making it that much hotter.
A part of you wouldnât mind biting him again, if you were honest.
You desired to have his cock in your mouth, the weight of it on your tongue as he moaned your name, spilling down your throat as his hands tangled in your hair. You wanted to be rid of the clothes on your body, wanted to strip him of his own and ride him until you were both screaming. You craved the feeling of his skin against your own, slick with perspiration, hot breath exchanged between heated kisses and moans as the two of you made each other fall into euphoria time and time again.
And you and Eris definitely knew how to do that well.
It was as if the more you tried to satiate your craving for him, the more you needed him. It was never enough.
This still wasnât enough.
You wanted him to take you again, sprawled out on this table if need be. You were already throbbing, still full of him and you still needed more.
You wanted him to fuck you again, fuck you all afternoon, honestly.
But you two were living on borrowed timeâsomeone would definitely be coming looking for you or Eris at any momentâand contrary to your desires, there wasnât time for more.
He was still buried in you and a part of you really didnât want him to move. In fact, youâd much rather waste the afternoon away with this sort of activityâwith Erisâthan the courtly duties you knew awaited you.
He stayed there for a beat longer, likely trying to reorient himself as much as you wereâthrown off kilter after the intense sex the two of you had just shared. He was still pressed against you, his labored breathing ghosting over your neck. You peered over your shoulder at him, to get a glimpse of him, the only downside to this position being youâd missed his pretty face.
His gaze instantly dipped to your mouth and before you knew it he was leaning forwardâalmost impulsivelyâto capture your lips with his. It was as if he wanted to prolong this moment as long as possible, too, hesitant to let you go.
It was slower than the previous ones, yet still remained heated, his tongue teasing as it flicked over your bottom lip.
He gave a teasing roll of his hips as he kissed you and your lips fell from his, a groan escaping you once more, lashes fluttering at the sensation. Again came one of those deep, sensual chuckles he was infamous for, doing nothing but make you want to keep him preoccupied for a little while longer.
Then he was pulling out of you in one smooth movement, leaving you dripping with him. But he didnât move away from you entirely just yet, his mouth still right by your ear. His promising words left you trembling almost more than the sex hadâdesire and anticipation already building within you.
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