[ How painful a few hours could become when waiting for a treasure you long for so very much, savour and yet could not help but to be impatient. Anduin never seemed to tire of her passion for him, at least - and a poet might say that absence made the heart grow fonder. But if she spent too long on flowing words and agonies she might not survive. Instead, she busies herself to make sure that nothing and no one would bother them for at least a few hours. She would toy with making herself beautiful for him before he arrived, but she had learned now, after that night at the fire, it was the simpler things he seemed to like. The linen dress and her hair tumbled free.
It was not like she planned to wear it very long, after all.
Because he does not get more than a minute, when he comes home, that she tumbles into him. Fingers in his hair, arm around his shoulder as she pulls him down into a kiss. Not the polite affection that usually came from morning or evening, no, hot against his lips with every scrape of her own, pulling at his clothes even before the door is shut behind him. Her body pressed tightly into his to find all the ways they fit together so nicely, hip to hip, breath to breath, how soft curves fit against his broad chest.
Fit to consume, and not sated until she has had every little bit. ]
Of course, Gilia was often there to welcome him home, but not often so ardently. He barely has time enough to shed his coat before she's in his arms, drawing him into a kiss--
And so he abandons thought for anything else that might need to be done, in the moment. What else could be so important? Instead he lets a hand fall to her waist, feeling warm skin beneath the nearly-sheer linen, drawing her in tightly before tilting into that kiss. ]
[ Give her a day, that is all she asks, give her this. Tomorrow she will lower her eyes and she will murmur her praise, she will say her prayers and never reach for anything first. But let her have him in these moments where she feels - that she does not have to be demure and kind, she just has to want. To savour how the fabric pulls across her lower back, as he draws her in. His hands are firm with their callouses that echoes in welcome with the soft sound against his mouth where they scratch in a way that is him, just him.
A tripping dance as she begins to hastily pull at buttons, getting them undone enough she can push his collar open and expose the tops of his shoulders, smoothing and touching like a map of all her favourite places. The thump where briefly she lands against a wall, it feels from the solidness at her shoulders. Drawing him over her as she cranes her neck back on her shoulders, stopping to breath because she must, yet how inconsequential it feels to taste the supple pull of his mouth. Ragged rise and fall, her eyes hazy with their warmth. ]
[ Her fingers span the rise and fall of muscle, of scars, of warm skin. His fingers dance across the folds of fabric, drawing them higher on her hips as the weight of their movement together presses her back into the wall. She breathes, bares her throat, and his lips find the thrum of her pulse before nuzzling beneath the curve of her ear.
His blood sings with how much he loves her, how he adores her. Wants her. Always. Thoughts that have to be set away during the long hours of the day when his focus has to remain razor-sharp. How could he dwell on anything else with the thought of her in his arms dancing through his head?. ]
[ She draws him in, fingers knotting in his hair with the sharp gasp when his mouth sets so hotly to her skin. That dig to keep him, always keep him, never let him go. A familiar, desiring madness that his proximity always gave her.
She watches him through lowered lashes, breathing hitching to an uneven beat, yet her heart felt so steady, steady in loving him, that he loved her too. Freer, now, that they had talked.
To give the simple command: ] Take me to bed. I want to devour you.
[ His lips curl upwards as he draws back, humming in soft agreement. ]
As my lady commands.
[ Which is all the warning she has before he lowers his hands, clasps the back of her thighs, and lifts her from the ground. The fabric of that thin dress gets rucked up against her thighs as he pulls her in tight, enough to allow her legs to wrap around him for stability, before he pulls away and hauls them both away towards the bedroom.
Any other night, she'd be laid down gently against the sheets, as he began a slow and reverent worship of her body, laden with soft-spoken adoration.
Tonight? She's all but tossed down amongst the fluff of pillows and blankets, before he dives in after her to hungrily claim her lips once more. ]
[ Tightly they go about him, snuggling pressing against his body as her head falls to make herself busy in the meantime. Fingers in his hair, lips on his jaw in soft gasping bites to his skin. The thrill does not have to be overthought, he is a handsome man, he is powerful king, and he is of even stronger faith, and he could have any he pleased.
But it is her that feels the strength in her palms, at this moment, and it is her he drops into bed. Bouncing briefly with the softness he seemed to like so much, wriggling back into it as she lifts her head up to catch him in that same kiss.
Because it is her he crawls over like he wants to devour. How often that kiss and touch are sweet and she loves them, but this felt different, somehow. Something that was open that she could not quite have managed, before. Her arm wrapping around his shoulder, as she drags him into her, nails that dig half-moons into the back of his neck with the force of the desire. She will not have in halves, not tonight, teeth laying in a stinging bite to his lower lip, tasting, savouring every sound she draws.
It is him she craves. It is him she will never, never have enough of. Her legs snatch him around the waist, drawing his hips down to her in that perfect, wonderous grind where there was so little between them and she is heat against his hardness.
It's intoxicating, rich as mead and strong as whiskey and it gives her the courage, swept up in it. Where she does what he must have done to her a dozen times, yet she never dared do back. Lifting with her hips and chest, glad, so glad, she was not so little a woman - and flips them over. Pushing him down into the blankets, perching on top of him, her hands landing either side of his head with a breathless laugh, perhaps a little incredulous. ]
There's no hiding his surprise as suddenly it's his back to the bed, with Gilia astride and looking so very pleased with herself. Very much a first.
But surprise quickly melts into a mixture of fondness and desire. Light, but he loves her so very terribly. So long now he can't imagine ever having not, and a hand lifts to draw his thumb along the edge of her cheek...and then surging up from the mattress to kiss her once more.
His smile remains, audible even through a stolen murmur against her lips. ]
Hello, Wife. I'm starting to suspect you had a plan all along.
[ Her hips rock in his lap, caught in the kiss that drives her half to madness that wants to throw out all thought and all reason. Never will she want anything half so much as she wants him. ]
An idea. [ She sucks on his lower lip, sinking her teeth in before she pulls back. ] Perhaps a fixation of all the things I want to do to you. [ Another kiss desperately dragged against his mouth. ] So, so many things I imagine...
[ But tonight, tonight she is in charge, not him. That is the first, first of all things, he is going to understand. She allows the kiss to stay, even when she snatches at his wrists this time, and pins him down. Pushing her weight into it to hold him fast. ] Even with my clients, even with the things the city makes me do, it's you I want most, it's always you, I could go mad with longing for you.
[ - And for once, she doesn't feel too afraid to say it, though she does... watch. Just to make sure. Just to see that she is not shocking him terribly. ]
[ Tender words even as she leans forward to pin him, as he allows her to do so, staring up at her with all the awe and love in the world dancing in his eyes. No shock, no second thoughts. ]
Whatever it is you wish, it's yours. I am yours, as I swore I would be.
[ Her breath sticks thickly in her throat, those words like honey, and yet molten. She leans down to cup his cheek and kisses him with it. Dripping that desire back against his lips, full, but beyond sweet, beyond her usual shyness. ]
Whatever I wish?
[ There she whispers, hot and deeper in a husky voice. Her eyes darting between his then back to his mouth.
And sinks her teeth into his lower lip, dragging it out between them to a pinch before she relents. Head tilting, arching her back as she pulls upright and away to perch over him.
Like what she is, a Queen. A Queen atop the only throne she cares to have now. Astride her husband, her King, hands bracing flat on his chest like it was as conquest she had the right to take. ]
I wish for everything, and I intend to take it. [ Jacob would be proud she thinks, at being so bold. Even if her cheeks are hot with it, she doesn't look back even a little now that she feels more sure. ] And you will thank your Queen for her grace.
[ Her hands reach up behind her neck. To her collar, the beautiful lay of pearls that hugged her throat so sweetly she could never mind the proof of his ownership of her.
But it wasn't for her tonight. Undoing it, she let them swing free from her fingers before she pooled them on his chest, admiring the beauty of them on his scarred and flawless skin. Trailing them up, up, up, to his neck. ] Tilt your head back. [ A plain order to plain purpose. As taking the fastening, she unravels the necklace, so that she could wrap it around his neck.
They had to sit higher to wrap him, and it was no doubt tighter than he ever expected her. Digging in. Good, good, a reminder. Hers. ]
[ The pearls tickle cool against his skin, and he doesn't hesitate at her request -- no, her demand.
There's nothing she could ask he wouldn't give, after all.
The collar fits him far more snugly than it does her, it's true, but not so much he can't still breathe. It'll definitely leave a mark if he doesn't heal it by the end of the night, however. ]
She was not prepared for how the sight of it would look. That pearls, yes, are her favourite adornment, a sign of power as much as beauty that were prized for their rarity.
It was another to see him bound in it. Like she was telling the whole world this one was hers. ]
My handsome Prince, they look well on you.
[An idea for later, at least. Plans she will have to make. As for right now, she trails her hands down over his chest, breathing out a long sigh, as she reaches his hips and on his bare skin, she sinks her nails in. ] But I should not be surprised, I could dress you in rags and you'd still be the handsomest man I ever saw. Save I couldn't, I feel much too selfish. I love to look at every part of you. But I am good, I do not crawl over you every chance I get. I understand that you cannot take meetings with your wife under your desk, lapping at your cock, even if I think it would be quite wicked merriment to listen to you try and keep your conversation going as I did so.
[It's not restraint she had to show now, leaning over his broad chest to kiss a line now, and stop, only, she when finds a curve of muscle she could sink her teeth into with a hum. Letting it break up all her terrible ideas.]
[ Terrible, or wonderful? The thoughts she illustrates earn as much of a shiver from the young king as the press of her teeth, and he hisses softly. Arches beneath her, his hands lifting to sink into her hair and scrape nails gently across her scalp.
As he might imagine doing while she does as she suggests, and pleasures him beneath the table during some meeting or another. ]
You do so enjoy teasing me. That has ever been true.
[ Now that the positions were reversed, she smiles, devious and quick. A year ago, she might never have dared such mischief, but now? Her smile grows brightly before she lowers it.
So very pleased, it seems, with herself. But frankly, who wouldn't be when they were straddling him like she was now? She perches her head up, watching him with a smile before she moves across, finding the other side of his hip, slowly beginning to tug his trousers down with each little wriggle across his body. ]
Sometimes I think I must tease. I want you so, there is not a part of me that does not burn for you. [ There is a soft pleased sigh on her lips as she looks over him. The v of his hips and the curve of such honed muscles. ] All I want is you to want me just as much.
[ There's only a brief pause as he lifts his hips, helping her tug fabric down over his hips a little easier, before he resettles. Takes a breath. Lifts his eyes to meet hers, dark with want and longing. ]
There has not been a moment since I met you that I did not.
[ And that ache lingers, in the slight husk on the edge of his voice. ]
[ It's a sharp command, breathless in the same, where she could never hear it enough. Never have enough. The look in his eyes and the heat in his words.
That she leans to busy herself with his newly exposed skin. Pushing his trousers the rest of the way and discarded them somewhere off the bed with a toss. Her hands braced instead on his hips so she could balance herself as she leaned over him. Kissing and biting and licking between muscles and scars with fervor. Not one piece of him was enough, not one piece of him would sate her. ]
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I'll be home soon.
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It was not like she planned to wear it very long, after all.
Because he does not get more than a minute, when he comes home, that she tumbles into him. Fingers in his hair, arm around his shoulder as she pulls him down into a kiss. Not the polite affection that usually came from morning or evening, no, hot against his lips with every scrape of her own, pulling at his clothes even before the door is shut behind him. Her body pressed tightly into his to find all the ways they fit together so nicely, hip to hip, breath to breath, how soft curves fit against his broad chest.
Fit to consume, and not sated until she has had every little bit. ]
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Of course, Gilia was often there to welcome him home, but not often so ardently. He barely has time enough to shed his coat before she's in his arms, drawing him into a kiss--
And so he abandons thought for anything else that might need to be done, in the moment. What else could be so important? Instead he lets a hand fall to her waist, feeling warm skin beneath the nearly-sheer linen, drawing her in tightly before tilting into that kiss. ]
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A tripping dance as she begins to hastily pull at buttons, getting them undone enough she can push his collar open and expose the tops of his shoulders, smoothing and touching like a map of all her favourite places. The thump where briefly she lands against a wall, it feels from the solidness at her shoulders. Drawing him over her as she cranes her neck back on her shoulders, stopping to breath because she must, yet how inconsequential it feels to taste the supple pull of his mouth. Ragged rise and fall, her eyes hazy with their warmth. ]
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His blood sings with how much he loves her, how he adores her. Wants her. Always. Thoughts that have to be set away during the long hours of the day when his focus has to remain razor-sharp. How could he dwell on anything else with the thought of her in his arms dancing through his head?. ]
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She watches him through lowered lashes, breathing hitching to an uneven beat, yet her heart felt so steady, steady in loving him, that he loved her too. Freer, now, that they had talked.
To give the simple command: ] Take me to bed. I want to devour you.
no subject
As my lady commands.
[ Which is all the warning she has before he lowers his hands, clasps the back of her thighs, and lifts her from the ground. The fabric of that thin dress gets rucked up against her thighs as he pulls her in tight, enough to allow her legs to wrap around him for stability, before he pulls away and hauls them both away towards the bedroom.
Any other night, she'd be laid down gently against the sheets, as he began a slow and reverent worship of her body, laden with soft-spoken adoration.
Tonight? She's all but tossed down amongst the fluff of pillows and blankets, before he dives in after her to hungrily claim her lips once more. ]
no subject
But it is her that feels the strength in her palms, at this moment, and it is her he drops into bed. Bouncing briefly with the softness he seemed to like so much, wriggling back into it as she lifts her head up to catch him in that same kiss.
Because it is her he crawls over like he wants to devour. How often that kiss and touch are sweet and she loves them, but this felt different, somehow. Something that was open that she could not quite have managed, before. Her arm wrapping around his shoulder, as she drags him into her, nails that dig half-moons into the back of his neck with the force of the desire. She will not have in halves, not tonight, teeth laying in a stinging bite to his lower lip, tasting, savouring every sound she draws.
It is him she craves. It is him she will never, never have enough of. Her legs snatch him around the waist, drawing his hips down to her in that perfect, wonderous grind where there was so little between them and she is heat against his hardness.
It's intoxicating, rich as mead and strong as whiskey and it gives her the courage, swept up in it. Where she does what he must have done to her a dozen times, yet she never dared do back. Lifting with her hips and chest, glad, so glad, she was not so little a woman - and flips them over. Pushing him down into the blankets, perching on top of him, her hands landing either side of his head with a breathless laugh, perhaps a little incredulous. ]
Hello, Husband.
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There's no hiding his surprise as suddenly it's his back to the bed, with Gilia astride and looking so very pleased with herself. Very much a first.
But surprise quickly melts into a mixture of fondness and desire. Light, but he loves her so very terribly. So long now he can't imagine ever having not, and a hand lifts to draw his thumb along the edge of her cheek...and then surging up from the mattress to kiss her once more.
His smile remains, audible even through a stolen murmur against her lips. ]
Hello, Wife. I'm starting to suspect you had a plan all along.
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An idea. [ She sucks on his lower lip, sinking her teeth in before she pulls back. ] Perhaps a fixation of all the things I want to do to you. [ Another kiss desperately dragged against his mouth. ] So, so many things I imagine...
[ But tonight, tonight she is in charge, not him. That is the first, first of all things, he is going to understand. She allows the kiss to stay, even when she snatches at his wrists this time, and pins him down. Pushing her weight into it to hold him fast. ] Even with my clients, even with the things the city makes me do, it's you I want most, it's always you, I could go mad with longing for you.
[ - And for once, she doesn't feel too afraid to say it, though she does... watch. Just to make sure. Just to see that she is not shocking him terribly. ]
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[ Tender words even as she leans forward to pin him, as he allows her to do so, staring up at her with all the awe and love in the world dancing in his eyes. No shock, no second thoughts. ]
Whatever it is you wish, it's yours. I am yours, as I swore I would be.
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Whatever I wish?
[ There she whispers, hot and deeper in a husky voice. Her eyes darting between his then back to his mouth.
And sinks her teeth into his lower lip, dragging it out between them to a pinch before she relents. Head tilting, arching her back as she pulls upright and away to perch over him.
Like what she is, a Queen. A Queen atop the only throne she cares to have now. Astride her husband, her King, hands bracing flat on his chest like it was as conquest she had the right to take. ]
I wish for everything, and I intend to take it. [ Jacob would be proud she thinks, at being so bold. Even if her cheeks are hot with it, she doesn't look back even a little now that she feels more sure. ] And you will thank your Queen for her grace.
[ Her hands reach up behind her neck. To her collar, the beautiful lay of pearls that hugged her throat so sweetly she could never mind the proof of his ownership of her.
But it wasn't for her tonight. Undoing it, she let them swing free from her fingers before she pooled them on his chest, admiring the beauty of them on his scarred and flawless skin. Trailing them up, up, up, to his neck. ] Tilt your head back. [ A plain order to plain purpose. As taking the fastening, she unravels the necklace, so that she could wrap it around his neck.
They had to sit higher to wrap him, and it was no doubt tighter than he ever expected her. Digging in. Good, good, a reminder. Hers. ]
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There's nothing she could ask he wouldn't give, after all.
The collar fits him far more snugly than it does her, it's true, but not so much he can't still breathe. It'll definitely leave a mark if he doesn't heal it by the end of the night, however. ]
...thank you, my Queen.
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She was not prepared for how the sight of it would look. That pearls, yes, are her favourite adornment, a sign of power as much as beauty that were prized for their rarity.
It was another to see him bound in it. Like she was telling the whole world this one was hers. ]
My handsome Prince, they look well on you.
[An idea for later, at least. Plans she will have to make. As for right now, she trails her hands down over his chest, breathing out a long sigh, as she reaches his hips and on his bare skin, she sinks her nails in. ] But I should not be surprised, I could dress you in rags and you'd still be the handsomest man I ever saw. Save I couldn't, I feel much too selfish. I love to look at every part of you. But I am good, I do not crawl over you every chance I get. I understand that you cannot take meetings with your wife under your desk, lapping at your cock, even if I think it would be quite wicked merriment to listen to you try and keep your conversation going as I did so.
[It's not restraint she had to show now, leaning over his broad chest to kiss a line now, and stop, only, she when finds a curve of muscle she could sink her teeth into with a hum. Letting it break up all her terrible ideas.]
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As he might imagine doing while she does as she suggests, and pleasures him beneath the table during some meeting or another. ]
You do so enjoy teasing me. That has ever been true.
[ Lest they forget the night of the bonfire. ]
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So very pleased, it seems, with herself. But frankly, who wouldn't be when they were straddling him like she was now? She perches her head up, watching him with a smile before she moves across, finding the other side of his hip, slowly beginning to tug his trousers down with each little wriggle across his body. ]
Sometimes I think I must tease. I want you so, there is not a part of me that does not burn for you. [ There is a soft pleased sigh on her lips as she looks over him. The v of his hips and the curve of such honed muscles. ] All I want is you to want me just as much.
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[ There's only a brief pause as he lifts his hips, helping her tug fabric down over his hips a little easier, before he resettles. Takes a breath. Lifts his eyes to meet hers, dark with want and longing. ]
There has not been a moment since I met you that I did not.
[ And that ache lingers, in the slight husk on the edge of his voice. ]
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[ It's a sharp command, breathless in the same, where she could never hear it enough. Never have enough. The look in his eyes and the heat in his words.
That she leans to busy herself with his newly exposed skin. Pushing his trousers the rest of the way and discarded them somewhere off the bed with a toss. Her hands braced instead on his hips so she could balance herself as she leaned over him. Kissing and biting and licking between muscles and scars with fervor. Not one piece of him was enough, not one piece of him would sate her. ]