Meandering Thoughts|| Drabble
Lavinia laid in bed, naked back mapping the soft pleats of the black silk spread below her. She looked up at the ceiling in the dark, the faintest sheet of light coming in through her window, which overlooked the back gardens. Night was well-past fallen, yet neither Ronin nor Tobias were in the presidential palace. They never seemed to be present here, not when Lavinia was still far from sleep.
For that, Lavinia was grateful.
Lavinia’s hands were beginning to touch familiar skin, fingers guiding themselves up to her breasts. She ran lazy patterns along the flesh as she closed her eyes, her thoughts falling back to something more pleasant. Tybalt only laid her so when they were alone on Ember Island, laying on similar exquisite sheets as these, his hot calloused hands caressing every inch of her body. He would have nuzzled against her here, beard tickling her skin as he pressed a kiss just below her bosom.
And if it were Tobias? Oh, she never recoiled at the thought, but the fantasy was a little more inclement. He wouldn’t caress her so, not like Tybalt, rather his hands gracing her breasts, a thumb moving across a puckered nipple until he bent his head down, mouth enclosing around the sensitive area. And it’d all run down to this ounce of control, because any strong suckle produced from his mouth would cause Lavinia to writhe beneath him, feeling a warmth inside her that laced and dabbled into her ever-present hatred for her husband.
But to have him over her for that moment, her hips coming off the bed as his hands found her womanhood… a hand moved down, grazing past her navel before she finally touched between her legs, fingers reaching out to just barely ghost across her lower lips. And if he did it just like this, palm placed just before her womanhood, fingers making the lightest runs across her sensitivity?
"Please," she would breath, seething with the barest amount of self-loathing as she gave in to this game, laying her head back as his lips moved away from her breast, the warmth of his breath now tickling the skin of her neck. "Please—”
His teeth would close across her soft skin, a gentle pull causing Lavinia to gasp, pleads faltering as she felt his fingers slip into her slick sex.
Never was it that he made a mark on her, though, nor did he ever play any game with her, either. It was only Tybalt, who would settle at the foot of the bed, spreading her legs to kiss her bare inner-thighs. His hands would be the ones that pulled her just inches closer, closing in the space between his mouth and her womanhood. Lavinia’s fingers were finally reaching against her clit, circling it as she remembered every first night on Ember Island. She and Tybalt didn’t need to leave her beach house. Nose against her clit, his tongue guiding along her womanhood, Lavinia could only sit up for moments before she had to lay back. Her muscles would clench as Tybalt’s tongue ran across her, breathing out his name between moans.
This is the image Lavinia wanted to hold onto as she rubbed her clit, but she kept going back to the intangible thoughts of Tobias. She let out a whine as her own fingers quickened, pleasure escalating and her own insecurity on the matter washing away as she let the image settle and bloom. To have him lay beside her, fingers working rhythmically, his mouth nibbling and marking her neck-- Lavinia sucked in a breath, shuddering as her climax came. Riding it, Lavinia let her legs begin to relax, turning on her side. The wave of guilt that had receded just moments ago washed itself back ashore, but there was a pleasant warmth in her abdomen that made her feel otherwise. He was her husband, after all, and she couldn't deny that she had laid like this and came to the thought of him over her on more than one occasion.
She could live with it, and she would.
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