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When Theo wakes, it’s to his voice. This would be no different to any other morning, had it been in its usual demure tone, with the accompaniment of a hand traveling warmly up her back.
“In each of the nine Hells,” he’s cursing.
She pinches her eyes shut, and pulls the blanket over her face just as he whisks the curtains open to shed light upon the room.
“Darling,” the elf says.
“Sorry, just—“ Gale flicks the window coverings back with an apologetic glance her way, but he doesn’t cease his search for… whatever it is.
“Mm. Have you considered having breakfast before losing your mind?”
“Neuroticism waits for no one, my love,” the wizard says, but finally casts his gaze fully upon her, and smiles that same, familiar, warm smile that greets her every morning. That’s better.
Theo draws her arm beneath the blankets, opening them up invitingly.
He looks exasperated for a moment, glancing around the room as if whatever he’s lost will suddenly grow legs and run off if he allows himself the comfort of her arms.
“You’re looking for your grimoire, aren’t you?” Theo says, and immediately gets her confirmation in the slump of his shoulders.
“I just had it. I swear.”
If she didn’t have a good decade or two of proof otherwise, she would begin to think that doe-eyed pout will be the death of her.
He comes to join her at last, slipping beneath the covers and wrapping himself around her. When her hand tangled into his hair, he sighs, all thoughts of what he may or may not be missing leaving with the exhale.
“You left it outside last night. You were a bit distracted,” the woman whispers after a few seconds of content silence.
Gale groans. The water-logged pages will take ages to dry, and that’s assuming they aren’t in shreds somewhere along the forests’ edge.
“I brought it in for you, idiot.”
Like the flick of a switch, he beams.
“Have I ever told you how thankful I am to have the most incredible —“
“Oh, hush,” Theo giggles, knowing this song and dance, never any less delighted by it.
“— Thoughtful, intelligent, beautiful wife? It truly is a privilege.” He’s pressing sweet, stubbly kisses along her jaw to draw out more peals of laughter, fingers digging into her sides.
When he reaches her mouth, he pauses to look at her before claiming it with his own, taking in the sleepy haze in her eyes. It shrouds their kiss in the same kind of morning comfort, slow and gentle.
“Thank you. Don’t know what I would do without you,” he murmurs, “Where did you tuck it away?”
When he sees her brow raise, he knows the answer isn’t going to come easily. He deserves as much, given the number of times his wife had saved him from such fate. He has an inkling he’ll like his punishment, too.
“You’re very pretty, you know,” she’s telling him, stroking her fingers over the stubble on his jaw, and he laughs despite how lovely that feels. No matter how many decades they share together, her easy compliments still bring colour to his cheeks.
“You know, I’ve only got this mess cause I’m too busy chasing you and the little ones around. And here you are liking it.”
Theo tuts softly, dismissing the idea.
“You could never be anything less than devastatingly handsome.” It draws more soft chuckles out of him, even though she’s telling pure truth. “And I like the beard. It’s the best seat in the house.”
There it is. To call it a punishment would be laughable, considering he knows of no greater pleasure in this plane or the next. He grins at her.
“I couldn’t help but notice you forgot to tell me where you put my spellbook, my love.” His hands curl around her hips, beneath the soft shift she slept in. “Could I earn such information?”
When she smiles, it brightens her whole face, creases deepening. He kisses the precious lines beside her eyes, then her cheek, and finally the tender spot beneath her ear that makes her knees weak.
“We’ll see,” she whispers, and Gale laughs before tipping them over, pulling her on top of his hips. He isn’t shy about feeling her up, touch traveling the well-worn path from knee to thigh to hip, up to her waist, cupping a breast in his palm as she kisses him.
Her sleepwear comes off easily, fluttering to the floor to be forgotten. It hadn’t been covering much, but he’s overwhelmed by her bare skin all the same, breaking from her mouth to press his lips to her delicate shoulder. The sun had begun to stream in stronger, brightening the space and the lovers within it. It paints her in gorgeous shades, lashes casting peaked shadows over her cheeks.
“Beautiful,” he tells her, just as he had for years, just as he’ll continue to. He can feel the warmth of her core pressed against his stomach, feels the deep pit of want for her inside.
Theo smiles at him, warm and happy. It turns a shade darker as she pushes him flat, perching herself atop his chest, and the wizard feels his mouth fill with saliva.
“Tap me to stop,” she says, as if it still (ever) needed said. He nods, impatiently craning his neck to get at her sooner, quell his appetite faster.
“Someone’s awfully excited to earn it.” The elf looks down at him and feels arousal hook her behind the navel. His eyes are pleading, big chocolate brown boring into hers.
She moves up, until the core of her hovers above his jaw, the man’s hands coming up to frame her waist for stability. And, as he proves rather quickly, to get a handful.
When she doesn’t lower herself down all the way, he keens and strains, letting out a groan as she moves just beyond his reach.
“Please,” Gale says, and she has to bite her lip. How terribly difficult it is to not give in to that.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to want a punishment this much.” It comes on the tail end of a gasp, her back arching as he pinches the pink bud of her nipple between two fingers. He has the decency to look sheepish, but doesn’t stop.
When he feels the icy touch of a cantrip wrapping around his wrists, a Mage’s Hand bringing both of his to a halt, he groans.
“Be good and you’ll earn it back,” the elf says before he can voice his complaints. Her magic pins his hands to his sides, leaving him at her every whim.
Gods, what a life.
Satisfied that he won’t be doing any more squirming, she finally moves over his mouth, hesitating for a second before putting weight on him.
His arms twitch with the instinct to grab her and pull, wanting to feel all of her on his face, but thankfully she must take pity on him as he feels her thighs seat snugly against his shoulders and the full weight of her settle on his chest. He sinks into the bed with a smile. Bliss.
The moment she draws near enough, he’s on her, licking a fat stripe up the length of her core. She’s already the slightest bit wet, pooling on his tongue, a pleased moan vibrating against her when he tastes it.
Her fingers card through his hair, scratching pleasantly across his scalp. It would typically be employed to put him to sleep after a long day, but here, it makes him feel like he could burst, magic billowing all over the place.
He hadn’t noticed his eyes falling shut in contentment, his attention drawn when her back arches so prettily above him. Once more he strains against the magic holding him, feeling it waver ever so slightly due to her lack of concentration, before tightening.
“Don’t make me entangle you again,” she bites out, and the wizard chuckles lowly. Every threat sounds so sweet from those lips.
Without his hands, he seeks to draw her closer by other means, wanting to feel the rock of her hips on his chin. He’s not content until he’s made a mess. His tongue works circles over her, lavishing attention to the sensitive nerves at the top.
“Gods,” comes her soft voice, and Gale hums, encouraging the way she’s started to move against him.
“That’s it,” he whispers. “Take what you want.”
His arms are shaking, wanting so desperately to break free, but he never lets up on her for a moment. When he moves low enough to press his tongue against her cunt, it pushes inside with no resistance, earning a groan above him.
“Fuck, like that.” The elf’s head tips back, her body following in a graceful arc, until she’s rolling her hips in torturous circles on his tongue. The noises that leave her lips are obscene, making good use of the silencing charms he’d peppered about their bedroom long ago.
He can feel wetness dripping down his chin, and it drives him mad, his own hips rutting up into nothing and pushing her further up on his chest. The angle lets him take more of her, meeting every movement of hers with vigor.
“You’re so good,” the woman breathes out, bringing a soothing heat to his chest and an aching twitch to his cock. The wizard’s face is pink with effort, constantly straining against his binds, trying to get as much of her as he can.
When he feels the touch of her hand on his throbbing length, he makes a strangled noise, whole body jolting like she’d shocked him. The warmth of her fingers around him in combination with the pressure on his face, the taste, the smell. It’s a miracle he doesn’t spill into her hand then and there.
“Fuck, Gale,” comes out in a whine, her voice raising in pitch as she rocks against him. She’s lost herself in it, using him, fucking his mouth in the pure interest of her own pleasure— and he loves it so much.
He whimpers as he licks her, pointing his tongue and pushing it inside, matching the rhythm of her hips. He can hardly breathe where his nose is pressed to her pussy, and he loves that , too, sucking in lungfuls of thick, hot air that tastes like her.
“You’re going to make me come,” Theo is saying, as if he can’t feel it in the sweet spasms of her body. He doesn’t bother with a reply, only sets his eyes on her and works his mouth for all it’s got, suckling at her sensitive clit.
He aches to feel the rhythmic squeeze of her cunt, would have buried two fingers inside if he could , like he likes to, but can only watch and lick and drink as she comes on his face.
The accompanying sounds are music to his ears, tries to muffle his own desperation so as not to miss a beat. He keeps working her, tilting his head in time with her riding her orgasm out, up and down.
At last, he feels the magic around his wrists unwind, fading into nothingness as she loses all focus. His hands are on her within the same second, grabbing at her hips with all of his strength to keep her from moving off entirely. He worked for his reward, he would very much like it dripping down his chin and chest, thanks very much.
“Gale,” Theo whimpers out, the last waves of her orgasm making her twitch and tremble, overstimulated by the touch. His beard leaves her thighs a raspberry shade, both covered in her mess.
He had promised to behave, so he lets up after just a few more moments, feeling a wave of cool air when his wet face is exposed to the room once more. He already misses suffocating between her thighs, but there will always be next time.
“You’re beautiful,” he tells her, voice hoarse. “You taste so good, my love.” As much as it pains him to take it off her body, he uses one hand to clean some of the wetness from his cheeks, no shame in the way he laps it from his fingers.
He had done it for more than a decade, but she still flushes an appealing pink, scaling down his body to taste herself in his kisses. It’s his second favourite part, the way her scent lingers afterwards, the flavor on his lips.
“And you are going to be the death of me,” she tells him, chest heaving as she catches her breath. “You’re so good, baby. You look so pretty beneath me.”
He’s grateful she can’t see his face from her position at his throat, because he has to squeeze all of his features together just to keep from spilling over her back. From the lingering taste of her, from her words. Gods, he’s embarrassed.
She must take notice of his muscles tensing, though, because she moves back to look at him.
“What’s the matter?” Her smile is wicked. He swallows.
“Please,” Gale whispers, begging her to spare him. He knows it’s fruitless, but it twists her grin up more, and he really likes the glint in her eyes, even as it brings a torrent of butterflies to his stomach.
“Please what, sweets?” When she touches his cock, it isn’t more than the barest brush of a fingertip from root to tip. It makes his back arch so sharply he gasps, hips rutting up into thin air as the touch disappears instantly.
“Oh, isn’t that cute. You’re about to burst, aren’t you?” Her hips settle over his, bringing them face to face, just as she slips his cock between the spit-slick lips of her cunt. He nearly cries.
“I didn’t even touch you. But you don’t need that, do you?” Her mouth finds his ear, and by now Gale is making sounds previously unknown to mortal ears, groaning and gasping and grabbing at whatever parts of her he can reach.
“Please, p-please, I’m going to…” He can’t bear to finish it, brows knitting together as he trails off in a moan.
In all truth, he would have cum twice over by now, had their positions been flipped and he’d been able to rut against the mattress as he buried his face in her cunt. But that would’ve been a treat for him, and this was for her. He wanted it to be for her.
Now, though, he’s beginning to kick himself a bit, as his prick flushes an angry shade of plum. She’s playing with him, stroking so very slowly that he can feel the temperature difference when the head of him is exposed.
“You were such a good boy, I wanted to let you bend me over as a treat,” There’s that smile again, sadism mixed with adoration, something only she can pull off. “But you’re not going to last that long, are you, baby?”
Gale is currently straining every muscle in his body to keep from spurting, and so far all she’s done is talk. He isn’t going to last another two minutes, much less the hours of devotion her body deserves.
It’s clear as day on his face, and Theo only laughs, no mockery in the sound. She’s truly enthralled by him, by his unending chasm of schoolboy lust for her, how it drives his body and mind to madness.
“Gods, I love you.” He wants to reply in kind, he wants to, because he loves her so much he could (and has threatened to, many times) explode with it.
But she chooses that moment to slip his cock inside her sopping cunt and sink all the way down in his lap, and Gale can only scream.
“Theo, please, I’m going to— I can’t—“
“Shh, baby. I want to feel it. Let go inside of me.” He doesn’t know when he sat up, but he’s grabbing at her, burying his face in her hair and crying out.
“That’s it. Show me how good it felt to be used, my love.”
That does it. He feels her clench up around him the second he starts to come, his eyes going wide and noises rising a few octaves. He spills inside of her, what feels like buckets’ worth, another rope painting her from the inside every time he thinks he’s entirely spent.
Blood rushes in his ears, her soft moans breaking through the noise. Gale clutches her close to his chest and breathes her in, stomach twitching with one last jerk as he empties himself in her.
No words come to either for a long while, only holding each other as the sun rises higher and higher in the sky. He doesn’t pull out, just kisses her tenderly, slowly coming back down to a baseline with his pulse. Almost.
“You are everything,” he tells her, “My goddess. I exist for your pleasure alone.”
Theo smiles at him, and this time it’s only fondness, no trace of mischief. It won't be long before it returns, though.
“If I’m a goddess, you might be the Universe itself.” Her voice matches his in softness, like they need to whisper, sharing secrets from the morning sun. “Also, your grimoire was on your nightstand this entire time.”
A second passes, his eyebrows furrowing before he checks her statement, and then flops back down to the bed with a huff.
“You’re lucky you’re my favourite.”
“I am, yes.”