make merry
a morning by the hearth ☆ lady maria x fem!reader
wc — 434 words
cw — mildly (mildly) nsfw
tag list — @lunachuu
a/n — i dont really like writing seasonally themed stuff but idk what happened this time it's a holiday miracle
“Give us a spin, will you?”
Maria cocks her head and grins, eyes trained on you as she takes a sip of her drink. You do as she says, bunching up the ruffles and lace in your fists, gracefully disrupting the shedded fragments of wrapping paper that now litter the floor in a playful twirl.
“You like your gift, I take it?” She looks up at you through her lashes as she sets her glass down, her gaze confident yet wanting. Her desire is sated at the first indicator of your joy, and a pleased cat’s smile spreads across her face. You go to your lady and she opens her arms to receive you, folds them over your back as you collapse onto her, your head pressed snug against her chest. Maria’s silky hum buzzes in your ears and you feel it vibrate against your lips as you pepper the column of her throat with kisses. Staving off her desire to partake in far more than innocent petting, she takes to toying with the various bows sewed onto your frock and coos at your feverish pecks.
In a moment of confidence you wrap your arms around the back of her neck and crane your head up to look into her eyes, which just so happened to be readily locked onto yours and brimming with unbridled affection. With one hand cradling your jaw and the other placed on your hip, she lifts you slightly and brings your lips to rest firmly upon hers. You recognize the faint tart of raspberries, your own perfume and the heady taste of ale all mingling on the plump skin you were now desperate to kiss more of.
“Come now," she grazes your bottom lip with those peculiar canines of hers, “you still have more pretty things left to open.”
“I wanted to say thank you.” "We'll have plenty of time for niceties later."
Maria takes your hand in hers as you continue to straddle her, warming the skin with a reverent kiss and then promptly sending you off to enjoy the gifts that only the finest of Hunters can buy. Once you’ve transfixed yourself with fishing out some other pricey, lacey, cutesy thing, the dashing and ever-so-composed Lady Maria allows herself some time to breathe.
The hearth suddenly feels a bit too warm for her liking, your pleased giggles a mite too sweet, and the flustered Hunter digs a finger under the collar of her blouse, loosening it. With each exhale she feels herself longing more and more for the time when, breathless and earnest, you’ll really thank her.
