Arthur and Guinevere (Merlin)
“We’ll
be fine, Guinevere. I promise you. I won’t allow...”
“Won’t
allow them to rape me? Shame me in front of their comrades for sport? How will
you stop it, Arthur? Like me, you are a prisoner.”
“I
am the future king of Camelot. I still have some say over my destiny and the
destiny of my subjects. Lord Branor is a scoundrel but he will not risk my
father’s wrath.”
“Lord
Branor can do what he likes with me and there is nothing to stop it. King Uther
will not avenge me, not even for your sake. Especially not for your sake.”
“Guinevere,”
he pulled her close and tried to comfort her but the truth was she was right.
Lord Branor, their captor, would ransom Arthur but he would do as he wished
with Gwen. Not even he could stop it.
The
moment they both dreaded came two hours later when the door of the room they
were being held prisoner in opened and three guards came in, swords drawn.
“Lord
Branor would have the girl,” one of the guards said.
“Over
my dead body,” Arthur answered, standing in front of Gwen, shielding her with
his own flesh. Would they cut him down to get at her, to fulfill their lord’s
wish?
“Move
aside, Prince Arthur. Lord Branor will have what he desires, even at the
spilling of your blood.”
“Take
me with her,” he said. “She is my subject. I should see what is done with her.”
One
of the guards nodded at another. He disappeared and the remaining guards
waited, swords drawn, ready for Arthur to put up a fight. Minutes dragged by
like hours before, finally, the other guard returned.
“He
will see you both.”
Gwen’s
grip was tight on Arthur’s arm, her fingers like a vice, as they were led
through the chilly, dank corridors to a set of double doors. They opened and
both Arthur and Gwen were pushed into an antechamber illuminated by tall column
candles that flickered in the cold air that blew in through the many cracks in
the walls. A girl emerged from the bedchamber, naked except for jewels that
adorned her pale flesh.
“This
way,” she said.
Gwen
was struck by how dead the girl’s eyes looked. She moved with feline grace but
her eyes were void of all feeling, all signs of emotion. How she must have been
used, Gwen imagined, to have such a look of defeat in her eyes.
Lord
Branor was a massive man, muscular and tall, but he’d gone soft around his
middle. He lay now, naked, on his enormous four poster bed, watching as Arthur
and Gwen were led in.
“So.
You wish to see what will become of your serving girl?” Branor asked, his tone
cruel and cold. He nodded to three young men, also as dead in the eye as the
girl was. “I planned to have them fuck her.”
“Lord
Branor, I would ask you to reconsider. Guinevere is an honorable young woman
who has served my family well since her youth. Please, do not--”
“You
are alive but for my mercy!” Branor shouted, enraged. The naked servants
gathered in the room seemed to shrink in on themselves, fearful, though their
faces remained stony as ever. Gwen’s fingers dug into Arthur’s arm but she
couldn’t help herself. She was even more fearful of what would happen than they
were.
“Yes,
you have been very merciful,” Arthur said, attempting to placate the madman. Arthur
gazed down at Gwen. It was no secret to those who knew them best, especially
their friend, Merlin, that they were in love. He didn’t bother to hide that
from her now, that look of tenderness that was reserved only for her. She felt
her grip relax. As long as she always had that love she thought she could be
strong and face whatever came her way.
“Ahhh…I
see…”
Branor
was watching them, and now a wicked smile played at his scarred, hairy face.
“You’re in love with the serving wench.”
Arthur
looked away from Gwen and straight into Branor’s eyes. He prayed that the truth
wouldn’t arouse even more cruelty in the man.
“It
is true. I love her. I beg you, sir, do not shame her. Do not rob her of her
dignity and her virtue by having these men lay hands to her.”
Branor
considered it and then finally, blessedly, nodded. “Very well. They will not
lay hands to her. You will.”
“What?”
Arthur asked, his heart pounding hard within his chest. “Me?”
“You
love her, she clearly loves you. Have you not taken her before?”
Arthur
wanted to spit at the man, tell him that what he’d done with Gwen was none of
his concern, but that would only arouse ire and bring Gwen harm.
“I
have. It is a private act.”
“Not
tonight,” Branor laughed. “Come to my bed. Have her for my enjoyment and I will
spare her the indignity of the touch of another man.”
…
Though
Gwen was grateful no other man would lay hands to her she was horrified at the
thought of being with Arthur in front of others, for their lovemaking to be
something that was perverted for a perverse man’s pleasures, but it was the
best either of them could hope for. She would be naked that night and nothing
was going to spare her that. It was better that Arthur was the man who took her
than a stranger.
Now
she lay on Branor’s bed, her dress gone, a simple shift all that covered her
form. She prayed Branor kept his hands to himself. The idea of him touching her
made her belly roll with revulsion.
“Remember
my love for you,” Arthur whispered, before leaning in to kiss her.
“Enough
with the whispers. When you speak, speak clearly, man,” Branor warned.
Arthur
nodded his understanding and pulled his shirt from his head. He was determined
to forget the circumstances of this union with Gwen and concentrate only on
her, and his love for her, to the exclusion of all else. If he didn’t he would
never be able to complete the act and the woman he loved would be raped.
Once
his shirt was gone he relieved Gwen of her gown, leaving her naked on the
massive bed, next to Branor’s equally naked body. He was fully erect now, and
the naked girl that had greeted him now massaged his admittedly impressive
member, her small hand moving slowly over him. Arthur ran his hands down Gwen’s
body, and she closed her eyes, making every effort to block out every other
sound and every other person in the room save for Arthur.
It
began to work. She was able to see only one man, the man she loved, and look
into his eyes to make him the only man in existence in that moment. The feel of
the pad of his thumb rubbing light circles around her erect nipples elicited a
sigh from her. She moistened, feeling Arthur press light kisses down her chest,
and her belly, until he found the sensitive bud between her legs.
She
tasted as she always did--sweet, like her soul--and Arthur satisfied his thirst
for her until he felt her hands come to rest in his hair. His chin glistened
with her juices when he sat back to unfasten his trousers. He was vaguely aware
that the naked girl now had Branor’s cock in her small mouth but it did nothing
to arouse him. All he cared about was making this as tolerable for Gwen as
possible.
He
took her legs and lifted them, pulling Gwen close to him until his member came
to her entrance and she guided him in. He slowly pushed inside, and she
welcomed every long, hard inch of him until he was firmly sheathed within her.
The moan that came from her lips was real, and every gasp that fell from her
mouth as he moved within her was genuine.
Gwen’s
eyes fluttered open as Arthur thrust his hips and their gazes locked. His heart
filled with love for her as she caressed the powerful hands that had wielded
swords into battle for the glory of Camelot. She tightened around him, feeling
his breath quicken, hearing his moans elongate as he neared climax. As much as
she loved Arthur she knew she wouldn’t find satisfaction, not truly, not in
this circumstance, but she could fake it well enough.
Not
for the first time in their lives Arthur threw his head back and stiffened as
he spilled his seed deep within her. It was only the feel of Branor’s hot
breath on her neck that tore her attention away from Arthur.
“You
have the love of a prince, serving wench,” he said, his breath hot and
stinking. “Use it wisely.”
…
It
wasn’t until they were back in their chambers with word that King Uther had
sent the ransom Branor demanded that Gwen could relax. They would be released
the next morning. She lay in the bed, in Arthur’s arms, smelling her scene on
him, and his scent on her, feeling his seed still thick within her. Would it
create life? She didn’t know. All she knew for certain was that they were going
home and she would be able to forget the horrors of this night.
“I
love you, Guinevere,” Arthur whispered. “I’m so sorry you had to suffer such
humiliation.”
“No,
Arthur. You spared me humiliation,” she said, absolving him of what had
happened, though she knew that he was not the kind of man who would rest until
he knew revenge on Branor for daring to embarrass her. She snuggled close to
him and kissed his cheek.
“Arthur?”
“Hm?”
“I
love you, too.”
...
2. Round Two
Clark and Chloe (Smallville)
Clark and Chloe (Smallville)
“Clark,
I don’t think this is such a good idea.”
Clark
looked out over the edge of the bridge. It was understandable that she’d be
hesitant. He was invulnerable. She wasn’t.
“That’s
a long fall.”
“You
don’t trust me to catch you?”
She
looked up at him, somehow managing to convey both anger and trust in one
glance. “Of course I trust you! I just don’t like falling.”
“I’m
pretty sure I can fly if I know I have to reach you no other way.”
“And
if you’re wrong I go splat!”
“I
won’t be so far away that I won’t be able to reach you by running. Chloe, trust
me.”
She
finally nodded. “Okay. I’ll trust you.”
She
trusted Clark through six consecutive falls from the bridge. He caught her
every time but it was beginning to hurt every time she landed, even with his
strange ability to displace impact that should, logically, cause her great
harm. A sudden stop in Clark’s arms shouldn’t have been any different from a
sudden stop hitting the ground yet he managed to keep any harm from sudden
impact from hurting her.
“Clark,
I need a break,” she said. “My back and legs are killing me.”
“I
don’t understand,” Clark said, perplexed, while they sat down on the edge of
the bridge. “I should be able to fly to catch you.”
“The
last time you flew, what was going on?” Chloe said, her mind on her studies.
She was in college now and she needed to dedicate more time to her classes than
she did. Being the best friend to the world’s savior could stretch a girl thin,
especially when she was trying to become a journalist at the world’s greatest
paper, the Daily Planet.
“I
was...um...well, I didn’t fly. I floated.”
She
blinked at Clark. He was caging and that was annoying her. “Clark, what the
hell were you doing that made you float? Just tell me.”
He had
started to blush. He stared down at the water that was rushing over the rocky
soil beneath the bridge. She was going to give him a verbal lashing if he
didn’t open his mouth.
“I was
in the loft and I was, uh, I was...”
She
suddenly understood and rolled her eyes. “Beating off?”
“Don’t
say it like that!” he said, embarrassed.
“Oh,
grow up. We’re adults now, Clark. You really should quit being so Victorian
about matters of sex. I’ve noticed all your new abilities revolve around your
libito.”
“How
so?”
“Your
x-ray vision. Your heat vision. It starts off around you being horny until you
can learn to control it.”
She
had a point and Clark wasn’t sure how to acknowledge it without actually saying
it right out. How was he supposed to actually tell her that he was ‘beating
off’ to a fantasy of her? He knew he didn’t have to tell her but he did know
that Chloe could read him like a book and he was afraid she’d figure him out
pretty quickly and that could lead to issues with their friendship.
“Who
were you thinking about?”
“Does
that even matter?”
Chloe
shrugged. “I guess not. Lois?”
She
was smirking, knowing full well he wasn’t into her cousin that way. Well, not
that way anymore than any young man would be into a beautiful young woman.
Still, he didn’t care for her insinuation because it was very close to the
truth--she’d picked someone in the family, at least.
“No,
not Lois.”
“Lana,
then.”
He
side-eyed her, unable to stop himself, and Chloe picked up on it. Damn it. Why
was he like an open book around her.
“Not
Lana,” she said, her eyes squinting at him. He swore she had x-ray vision and
she could see right through him.
“Me?”
she said after a moment.
His
deepening blush and his hurried climb to his feet gave him away.
“You
were masturbating to me?” she said,
and then burst out laughing.
“Shut
up,” he mumbled, his face feeling like it was on fire and his eyes itching with
the need to release heat. Being horny wasn’t the only thing that set off his
heat vision. Embarrassment did too.
“Sorry,”
she giggled, and then calmed down. She became very serious--for all of three
seconds--before bursting into laughter so hard she actually doubled over. He
stood there nodding his head, his jaw clenching.
“You
go ahead, Chloe, get your laugh out.”
“I’m
sorry,” she said, a hand on her belly. “Um…where were you doing this? Your
room?”
“No!
Mom’s in the house. Plus, I told you.”
“Clark,
she’s not in your bedroom. It’s okay for you to masturbate--”
He was
already shaking his head. Such a prude.
“You said you were in the loft, I remember now.”
He
nodded, wishing he could fly. God, he
wished he could fly so he could zip away from her right then and there.
“Take
me back to the loft. I have an idea.”
“What
sort of idea?” he asked, panicked.
“You
asked me to trust you and I jumped off a bridge to do it. Now it’s your turn.
Trust me.”
She
jumped into his arms and he caught her, looked around to make sure no one was
watching, and then zoomed off toward his house. This mode of travel was Chloe’s
favorite. She didn’t feel much, other than a tug, but the world literally went
into a blur for a few moments. It only took about five seconds to get to the
loft and Clark was setting Chloe on her feet.
“It’s
a good hot day so this will be easy,” she said, and reached for the hem of her
shirt. She started to pull it off.
“Chloe,
what are you doing?” Clark asked, panicked.
“I’m
helping. Or I’m trying to.”
“I
don’t think this is a good idea.”
She
rolled her eyes. “Clark, I know you don’t want to see me as a sexual entity--”
“If I
didn’t I wouldn’t…you know…to pictures of you.”
“What
picture?”
He
mumbled something suspiciously like I
don’t know before shrugging.
“Clark,
just tell me!”
He
walked over to the small table beside the overstuffed couch and pulled out a
photo album. In it was a photo of Chloe from the previous year out at Crater Lake.
She’d allowed Lois to talk her into wearing a two piece and no wrap and she
stood on the dock, looking down into the water that she’d just climbed out of.
She had to admit, though, it wasn’t a bad picture. She liked her legs. She had
good, strong legs.
“You
have awesome legs and a really good belly,” he said softly. Too softly, in
Chloe’s opinion, and she felt herself shiver despite the warmth of the day.
“How
often do you peep?”
“Never!”
he said, looking scandalized at the idea he’d use his x-ray vision to violate
her privacy.
“Clark,
I’m kidding. Stop being so skittish.”
“Says
the girl standing in my loft with no shirt,” he pointed out.
"Okay,
you've got a good point. Look, Clark, I know you're worried about messing up
our friendship, I worry about that too, but if this helps you learn to fly
imagine how it'll help you help others."
"So...you
getting partially naked is for the good of mankind?"
"No,
me getting totally naked is for the good of mankind. Like I said, trust
me."
Clark
swallowed and looked away while Chloe pulled her clothes off. He kept peeping,
super fast so that Chloe couldn't track him, not that she would have minded.
She wanted him to look at her. He knew that. It just wasn't easy for him to get
there, at least openly, with her.
"Okay,
Clark. Sit down. I have something in mind. Go on. Get on the couch and take off
your shirt."
Again,
Clark swallowed, feeling his mouth go dry. He kept an ear out around the farm.
Nobody was approaching on the drive and his mother wasn't home. Lois was at the
Talon, snoring during an afternoon nap. Nobody was going to catch them at it.
They were alone.
"What
are we doing?"
"I
want you to get back to that point where you found yourself floating. Was it
when you climaxed or before?"
"Before.
Right as I was getting there."
"Okay.
Let's get you there."
Now
that Clark was topless Chloe reached out and undid his jeans. She unzipped him
and he helped work his jeans down off his hips. Clark was still flaccid, not
looking at Chloe directly, and he still had an impressive member. Chloe was
quite excited. She'd always wondered if Clark was a grower or a show-er. Now
she was going to find out.
"Clark,
it's okay to look at me. Take one for the team," she said, winking at him,
helping him relax.
"Okay."
Clark
was going to need help. Chloe could tell, so she did something that made his
eyes pop out of his head. She put her feet up on the old trunk that acted as a
table and reached between her legs. Her eyes were locked on Clark's cock, which
was starting to grow. It was large enough flaccid, but it grew to an enormous
size when hard. He was nearly eight inches and he was thick.
"Jesus,
Clark..." Chloe said, looking at his swollen member lying on his naked
flat belly. It was flushed red and it jerked eagerly as he watched her rubbing
her clit.
"You're
wet..." he said in a lust-strangled voice.
"You're
hard. So hard..."
Her
fingers worked faster, rubbing side to side. Clark reached up and took himself
in his hand, gripping his erect cock and working it. Chloe felt herself moisten
even more at the sight. She'd give anything to taste him, to run her tongue
over the head of his dick and taste the tiny drop of precum that had beaded
there.
"Fuck..."
Clark said, watching Chloe work herself while he pumped his dick faster.
"Slow
down, Clark. Remember you're trying to get to that point but you don't want to
rush and miss it."
He
removed his hand, with effort, and took a few deep breaths. Chloe continued to
rub at her pussy. She dipped three fingers in and Clark breathed in the smell
of her arousal, feeling his cock ache and his balls tighten while he listened
to the moist sound of her digital penetration. She'd never been more beautiful
as she was now, her head thrown back, her eyes closed, her fingers bringing
pleasure to herself.
Unable
to stop himself, Clark reached out and pressed the pad of his thumb over the
swollen nub of her clit. Chloe gasped at the feel of his finger against her.
Her eyes flew open and she looked him in the eye.
They'd
just crossed a line for certain.
Clark
picked Chloe up and put her on his lap. She straddled him, feeling his member
hot and throbbing against her own aching clit. She slowly moved against him,
her small hands gripping his powerfully broad shoulders. She could dig in as
much as she wanted and she knew it wouldn't hurt.
"I
can't penetrate you," he said, his lips inches from hers. "I could
lose control, hurt you," he said.
"I
know. It's okay."
Even
with their lips this close Chloe didn't expect Clark to slip his tongue deep
into her mouth. The kiss was very slow, very intimate, their tongues rubbing
sensually together, their breath mingling in fast, shallow gasps while Chloe
picked up pace. Clark's big hands came to rest on her hips, rubbing around
until he gripped her ass and began moving her against him at the pace he
needed.
"Chloe..."
He'd
never wanted to feel someone from the inside so badly. He was lost in another
kiss, feeling himself inch closer to release, when her warmth was suddenly
surrounding him. Their eyes locked and Clark felt himself start to panic. She
was taking him in, inch by inch, slowly, adjusting to his girth as she slid
slowly down on him.
"I
need to feel you," she whispered. "I've always wanted to feel you, to
know this."
His
hands stroked her back, her legs, ran up over her shoulders, caressing her
while she rocked against him, slowly at first, then faster.
"Clark..."
She
was close. He could feel her pulse beating harder. Her breath was picking up
and he urged her to move faster. He wanted so much to lay her down and pound
into her but he knew he would have to let her keep control. He was afraid to
even help by thrusting upward. He may lose control and if he ever hurt her he
would never forgive himself.
The
walls of her pussy fluttered around him. Her juices coated his member as she
came, her cries filling the hot, humid air of the loft. He kissed her neck as
she continued to pump her hips, moving faster, harder, squeezing him and
driving him to climax. He felt his orgasm rush through him and deep into her
and it was the most wonderful, erotic thing he'd ever known.
...
"I
didn't fly," Clark said.
He and
Chloe were now dressed and sitting in the kitchen with leftover fried chicken,
potato salad, bread, a cheese plate, and anything else they could find for a
post-coital snack.
"Well,
I did," Chloe said, smiling shyly. "Sorry. I tried to help."
"You
took one for the team," he winked.
"Maybe
Lana can--"
"I
think we should take a nap after we eat," Clark said, cutting her off. He
didn't want to talk about Lana. She was with Lex. She'd made her choice. Now
he'd made his.
"A
nap?"
He
nodded. "Maybe after that we could go for round two? In my bedroom."
"You're
serious?" she said, a drumstick halfway to her mouth. She was so cute. She
was so right for him.
"What
we did...it felt right," he said slowly. "I don't want it to be over.
If you don't."
"No,
I don't want it to be over," Chloe said, a smile splitting her face. She
wiped her hands and stood after they finished eating.
"Round
two, huh?" she said.
"Already?"
he asked, scooping her up and carrying her up to his bedroom, to his bed, where
he lay her down and felt her wrap her legs around him.
It was
time for round two.
...
3. Panties
Rick and Michonne (The Walking Dead)
Rick and Michonne (The Walking Dead)
The
tiny box on Rick's bed was wrapped in white tissue paper with a red ribbon tied
prettily around it. He picked it up, curious who it was from and why it had
been sent. It wasn't his birthday. It wasn't a holiday, at least that he knew
of, and he found himself standing there confused and hesitant.
Finally
he just decided to unwrap the box and opened it. Inside was a photograph of a
pair of sexy red panties. There was a note with the picture.
Want to see them on me? Come to
the
warden's office tonight at nine.
Happy
Valentine's Day.
Michonne
Rick
read the note over a couple of times. He couldn't quite believe what he was
reading and he began to wonder if it wasn't some kind of prank. Michonne was
sending him an invitation to sex? Michonne?
He wracked his mind trying to remember anything that had ever happened between
them that would indicate she had an interest in him that way.
Perhaps,
Rick thought, she wasn't interested in him all that much. The pickings were
slim nowadays and perhaps she had an itch she wanted to scratch. He certainly
had an itch to scratch, and he'd thought about approaching Michonne before, but
he'd never had the guts to do it.
What
if he went to the warden's office and she wasn't there? What if he opened the
door on a group of his friends, laughing and pointing, because he'd gone to the
office to get some touch from one of his best friends?
Indecisiveness
wasn't usually something Rick suffered from. He was a leader, or at least he
had been, and he knew the importance of making a decision and sticking to it.
Go or don't go. What would happen if he went? He'd end up fucking her if this
wasn't a prank and then where would that leave them? If he didn't go he'd run
the risk of hurting and embarrassing her. Then where would they be left?
Rick's
eyes were drawn to the picture of the red panties. He could just see them on
her. God, it was a beautiful thought. All that smooth skin, that firm body,
tucked into these tiny red, partially transparent panties…
He
made up his mind easily enough with that image in his mind. He was going.
…
Freshly
showered and wearing clean clothes, a tee-shirt he found kind of tight but
hoped she'd like, Rick made his way to the administration building after
leaving Judith with Carl in his cell. He saw golden, flickering light beneath
the door of the warden's office. He swallowed, nervous, and put his hand to the
doorknob. He hadn't actually had sex in a long time. He'd masturbated but that
was a completely different experience from sex, and his hand shook slightly as
he opened the door and peered in.
There
wasn't a group of friends inside playing a gag on him. There was only Michonne,
leaning against a desk that had been covered with a white sheet, candles set up
on either side of her, casting the room in a soft golden glow that reflected
beautifully off her smooth, rich skin. She wore nothing but the panties and a
matching bra. They were gloriously transparent, hiding little, if nothing at
all.
"Come
in," she said in a soft, throaty voice.
Swallowing
again, Rick entered the office and shut the door behind him, careful to lock it
behind him, and rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans.
"They
look great," he said, embarrassed by how choked his voice sounded. He felt
like a virgin, for fuck's sake, about to get laid his first time.
His
stomach clenched when Michonne pushed away from the desk and came to take him
by the hand. She moved around him, running her fingertips over his chest and
back as she walked in a circuit around him.
"I
didn't think you'd show," she said.
"I
almost chickened out," he confessed.
"So
did I."
"What…where
did this--"
"Shhh…Let's
talk about it later."
"Okay,"
he answered, nodding.
He
couldn't believe he was about to cross that line with Michonne. There'd been a
kind of unspoken agreement that they were friends, allies, but they'd never be
more than that. Then he'd gotten her invitation and agreed to it, changing
everything between them.
Michonne
lifted his shirt over his head while he toed his boots off. Her fingers made
quick work of his jeans, lowering them, her eyes glued to every inch of his
body as she undressed him. When he was naked before her she finally looked up
to meet his gaze. She dragged her fingers lightly over his lips, over his ever
thickening beard, and then down his chest. Her thumbs rubbed over his nipples
and Rick watched as hers hardened.
Very
gently he reached out, still amazed this was happening between them, and
caressed the soft flesh of her lower back, pulling her closer. He gently kissed
her forehead, and peppered her face with soft kisses until she turned her lips
to his. There was no hesitation. Their desire to feel something good, to feel
each other, didn't allow for closed-mouth kisses. He plunged his tongue into
her mouth, tasted her, and felt Michonne press her body against him, eager for
the feel of him against her.
Rick
backed Michonne toward the mattress that had been laid out on the office floor,
covered in a crisp white sheet, and eased her down until she rested with her
head on the pillow. His lips thirstily drank her in as he kissed from her neck
down the center of her chest, stopping to lap at her hardened buds through the
flimsy material of the bra. She gasped at the warm, wet feel of his tongue, and
it excited him, urged him to kiss ever lower, over the flat plane of her belly
to the dark patch between her legs.
God,
she smelled so good. Soap mixed with the heady scent of her arousal drew a moan
from Rick's lips. He watched the material slicked with her juices. He watched
her as he played a thumb over her swollen clit. Michonne rewarded him with a
low moan that sent a shot of need straight to his burgeoning erection. He
hardened, fast, feeling that sweet ache of need pulse through him.
He
peeled the panties off slowly, pulled them down her long, muscular legs,
enjoying the sight of her soft curls between her legs. Her ass…glorious was the
only word to describe it, so wonderfully round and firm. He watched as she
lifted, her stomach muscles contracting as she sat up, and pulled the bra off,
flinging it elsewhere, uncaring of where it landed in the face of Rick lowering
his face between her legs to nip and kiss at her thighs.
She
sighed when he first tasted her, licking and lapping at her wet folds, moving
ever closer to her clit until he claimed it between his lips, sucking, drawing
a long, low moan out of her. Michonne's fingers came to rest on his head,
entwining them in his hair while her hips lifted from the mattress, eager for
more pressure. Rick obliged, suckling harder, feeling himself get even harder
at the taste of her. He was lost in the moment, licking and sucking, his tongue
moving fast until she tugged at him, asking him to stop.
"I
need you," she whispered.
It
wasn't until that moment that he realized they didn't have a condom. It wasn't
until that moment that he realized he didn't care. He wasn't stopping. He
couldn't. The need in him was too much. He positioned himself between her legs
and enjoyed the feel of her legs wrapping around him, urging him close until he
sank inside of her.
She
took every single inch with a low moan on her lips. She felt so good, so
comforting, her body tight and wet around his hardened length. It felt so good
he was almost afraid to move, afraid he couldn't hold it together. He rocked
slowly, concentrating on holding out until he got his bearings. He didn't want
to disappoint her. He didn't want it to be over too soon.
The
slow roll of his hips slowly increased. Michonne wrapped her arms around him,
making him feel needed, wanted. He cradled her, his lips brushing softly
against hers on occasion while he moved inside her, feeling release build
deliciously inside. Michonne's gaze was steady, her hips rolled with his,
meeting his thrusts with the same enthusiasm he felt, until she closed her eyes
and gave in to the moment. He felt her flutter around him and it was then that
he knew it was okay to give in too. He vaguely thought he should pull out but
he knew Michonne wouldn't allow it. She kept her legs wrapped around him,
continued meeting his thrusts even as she cried out from the pleasure he
brought her, until he stiffened, feeling the rush of his orgasm move from his
tight, aching balls, through his cock, and deep into her.
…
Rick
lay beside Michonne, naked, stroking her arm sleepily as she cradled next to
him under the blankets she'd brought.
"You
said we'd talk," he reminded her.
"Mmmm,"
she answered sleepily. "I wanted you. I had a feeling that maybe you
wanted me too. I thought Valentine's Day was as good as any to make a move
since I didn't think you were going to anytime soon."
Rick
chuckled. "You're right. I wouldn't have. I didn't think you thought of me
that way."
"I
do. I don't open up easily. You don't either. I think that's kind of why we
made a good match tonight."
He
kissed her forehead, feeling her drift off. He hoped she heard him when he
said, "Not just tonight. Every night, from here out."
Her
lips curved in a smile and she drifted off in his arms, the sound of his
heartbeat steady and strong beneath her.
