WIP
Relationship: Haytham Kenway x Templar!Reader
Tags: Somewhat fluffy smut, porn without plot
Tagging: @sangheilihoes @ladysaturnsdust @wyyvernn @bloodhaven99 (anyone else that wants to be tagged in the future just let me know!)
(Critique is welcome at this stage!) Anyways...
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You gaze down at the dashing man sprawled on the bed beneath you - your hands flat on his chest, his resting up above his head - drinking in every detail you could by the dim light in your boudoir. Deep-set slate eyes regard you calmly, a slight smirk pulling at his features. You weren't usually the one to be positioned atop, but here you are, straddling his hips in absolutely nothing. Your Templar companion however, remains in just his off-white breeches, which - to your delight - do little to hide what they contain.
The warm candlelight casts deep, long shadows from his sharp cheekbones, the strong Grecian-style nose, and those beautifully full lips. Gods, how you loved those lips. They were always soft and supple against yours, always smooth and plush. Silky dark locks peppered with grey fan out across the pillow and spill over one shoulder. The flicker of firelight reflects off the graying strands that originate over his ears, giving the impression that his long black hair is streaked with silver and steel as you card your fingers through its waves. You run your hands appreciatively over his muscular, rounded shoulders, feeling the muscles bunch up beneath his skin whenever he lifts his hands to gently grab your hips. Your hands continue their journey down his chest, caressing the diamond of soft dark hair that spread across his pectorals and pointed down toward his navel, where a smaller patch of hair trails beneath the waistband of his breeches.
“What did I do to deserve you, Haytham…” you murmur dreamily, forever awed at how fortunate you were to have the Grandmaster's affection. as you plant your hands back on his chest and lean forward, softly pressing your lips to his. He responds with a large hand on the back of your head, pulling you in for a more fervent kiss before sucking your lower lip into his mouth and grazing delicately with his teeth. You make a small, involuntary noise and you can feel his member twitch beneath you, begging to be released from the snug confines of his trousers. You smile against Haytham's mouth, rolling your hips so that you slowly grind yourself against his bulge, and enjoying how you can feel his breathing quicken beneath you. You trail your tongue along his lower lip, and he happily opens his mouth to you. As you deepen the kiss, a low sound rumbles through Haytham's chest, and you can feel him continue to swell. When you pull away his gaze follows you, a desperate look painting his face. The Grandmaster isn't one to beg you with words, but his eyes plead with you to do more than tease him. You decide it's time to finally begin to oblige.