Work Text:
His arms closed around her, and he swept in for a kiss. Warm mouth and warm skin, and warm water, too. She lifted her hands to his face and pulled him in; a soft meeting of lips that swiftly turned more hungry, and eager, as they pressed more firmly together.
The feel of his skin against hers sent a surge though her, equal parts excitement and affection.
She held his face as she broke the kiss. He looked flushed, even in the dim light of the sanctuary; pupils dark and intent.
“I love you so,” she breathed.
He swallowed, and then swept in again.
His hands drifted down her back, and one of his thighs nudged between her legs. They kissed until her lips were almost burning with it; until her mouth drifted away from his to press against his jaw; his throat. Until the heat fizzling under her skin began to feel electric, and the warmth pooling in her was almost dizzying.
“Ar lath ma, vhenan,” he whispered, and clutched her close.
For a little while they slowed, lost in the moment of their arms tangled around one another. She found herself tracing the point of his ear with her thumb; trailing her fingers across his cheeks. Looking into his eyes, with some wry internal appreciation for the term ‘lovestruck’. Her heart actually felt like it might burst. Like she would never get enough of him.
He returned her tenderness, pressing a hand to her lower back, and cupping her jaw, before leaning in drag her breath away with another long, slow kiss; soft and steady.
When he pulled back, she let out a tiny huff; and he smiled. His lips curled and his eyes shone, and she lost her breath for another reason.
At the rate they were going, she was at sincere risk of drowning even without all the water everywhere.
“You are gorgeous,” she told him.
His smile stretched wider.
“You are moreso,” he insisted.
She laughed, and raised an eyebrow at him.
“Are we competing, emma lath? Because I must say, if we are, that you are certainly the most gorgeous, out of us or anyone else, for that matter.”
He snorted at her, and stole another kiss; shorter and more playful than the last.
“I question your assessment,” he declared.
“Didn’t you tell me you were considered quite attractive back in Elvhenan?” she asked him, tracing her touch down his chest.
He shivered.
Definitely not from any sense of cold.
“I am aware of my appeal, certainly. I simply must insist that it is dwarfed in comparison to yours,” he replied, and beneath the water, his touch drifted down to squeeze at her backside.
She jolted forward a little, and laughed again. Then she swept her hands behind him, and returned the favour twofold.
“Well. If you insist,” she murmured.
He chuckled back at her.
“I do.”
The low rumble of his voice added to the warmth between her legs, and her hips gave an answering twitch against him. She let go of him with one hand so she could slip it towards herself, tempted to just work her way open and have him then and there.
He shifted, though, and halted her, sealing his lips over hers as he turned them in the water. She let out a surprised breath when he lifted her onto the ledge of the pool.
“Not swimming anymore?” she asked.
He pressed a kiss to her collarbone, and smiled against her skin.
“You have not made love in water before, have you?” he asked. “It can be uncomfortable, if done improperly.” Very pointedly, he leaned in, and kissed the underside of her jaw. His hands slipped down her thighs. “I will not do this improperly,” he promised.
Then he dipped low, and urged her legs a little wider apart. She inhaled deeply as he kissed the soft skin of her abdomen; his intent very obvious.
The flowering vines around the pool were quite soft, at least, and the air was still warm as she leaned back. He murmured approval at the improved angle, but went slowly. Kisses on the inside of her thighs. Caresses at her hips. When his tongue slipped over her at last it was a long, exploratory stroke. He joined it with his fingers, pressing through her folds before focusing on her in earnest.
A jolt of pleasure shot through her when he did, and she sucked in a small gasp.
Apparently, he found that quite encouraging, because he focused his attentions much more pointedly after that. His tongue drew more sparks of pleasure from her as his fingers slipped inside of her, and slowly spread in widening circles, twisting gently while breaths grew ragged, and more gasps and even a few moans escaped her as she built up.
When she warned him of how close she was, he increased his pace until she came.
“Beautiful,” he then breathed, running a hand across her leg.
She blinked at him, a little glazed from the wash of pleasure still fizzling in her brain.
“My turn,” she murmured.
“By all rights, I should be days at this before we get there,” he informed her, a little wistfully.
She snorted.
“As if I’d let you eat me for days without returning the favour,” she scoffed, and worked her way onto her elbows.
He raised an eyebrow at her as she slid back into the pool. She pressed him towards the wall, hands firm on his hips.
“Let me know if it’s uncomfortable,” she asked, and before he could reply, she sucked in a breath and dipped below the warm water again.
His erection was full and flushed, and he jolted a little when she wrapped her lips around him and swallowed down as much of him as she could manage. Then she dragged herself back off of him again, drawing her tongue over his length.
The downside, she immediately decided, was that she couldn’t hear him. Because going off of the way his hands clutched at her shoulders, that had definitely provoked a response worth hearing.
But she swept back in again, reaching for him and curling her tongue over his base, and then swallowing him once more, stroking him before the pressure in her lungs was too much and she eventually had to come back up for air.
He swept her up when she did, devouring her mouth and scooping his hands below her ass, and almost lifting her straight onto himself in his enthusiasm.
She laughed against his lips.
“I haven’t finished you yet,” she said.
He let out a cracked little groan.
“I would rather finish in you,” he told her.
“Later,” she promised, with another kiss, and then she wriggled free of his grasp and slipped below the water once more.
That time she managed to get him all the way down, and once she did he twitched and jerked, and writhed beautifully. She didn’t need to go back up for air again until he came; and when he did she kissed her way up him, trailing over his stomach and then onto his chest, until her face was tucked against his neck.
Then she smiled.
“Not uncomfortable?” she checked.
He laughed a little breathlessly.
“No,” he assured her.
They drifted into languid touches for a while then. He kissed her mouth like he’d developed a whole new fascination with it, and she straddled his thigh again, and whispered endearments to him in low, soft tones.
“How are we for ancient courtship?” she wondered. “Should I sing again?”
He chuckled.
“I will make you sing indeed,” he promised, and his long, clever fingers slipped between her and his thigh.
She felt the tiniest flare of something strange. Pleasure, obviously, but there was an unusual spark to her nerves that made her think he’d just used his magic to heighten the sensation somewhat.
“Is that a spell?” she wondered.
“A very, very simple one, especially here and now,” he told her, kissing her cheek. “But I will not use it, if you prefer.”
“It’s not a problem for me,” she magnanimously informed him.
He chuckled, and did it again. A tiny little shock of sensation, spreading from his fingertips. He eased them inside of her and crooked them against her, and everywhere he touched seemed to draw a response from her, and paid off on his promise as she found herself utterly unable to keep quiet about it.
She came onto his fingers, and he helped her onto the ledge once more; climbing up along with her, that time. He trailed his touch across her breasts, and kissed between them; and by the time he was hard again she was dragging him into her, so hungry for him she would never have guessed that she’d him in her mouth not long ago.
He made the most beautiful sound as he thrust into her.
She wrapped her legs around him and swallowed the next sound he made straight from his lips, and the rhythm they set together was a little frantic, then, clutching hands and messy mouths and crashing hips. It was glorious. When she came again she cried his name.
When he met his own completion, not far behind, he buried his face against her and gasped, and breathed in her in for several long, quiet moments afterwards.
She pressed a kiss to his temple.
“Are you sniffing me again?” she asked.
He blinked, and then huffed out a laugh.
“Yes,” he said.