Work Text:
The night is still young, and sleep was the last thing on Hosette's mind as she lay in the arms of her love.
Cast in the glow of candlelight at the bedside, chasing the warmth of her lips—her kiss setting a flame to her heart, the taste of her truly divine.
"I love you…" Whispered into parted lips, when RaspBarry's touch trails into the hem of her nightgown. Hardly grazing the skin, teasing—until she's granted the feel of the other tremble beneath it.
Such a fragile thing she held, really. Pure and delicate—when her fingers grasp her hip, pressing her to her backside on the mattress, she relishes the way Hosette so willingly obliges.
She wanted more.
So, she kisses her once again, swallowing the whine it brings forth. Palm pressing into her chest, her fang catches on her bottom lip. Careful not to tear, and yet it pulls the most delicious gasp from Hosette, breathless when they part.
"Oh, my darling…" Her voice is soft, full of nothing but adoration for the sight of her beloved, wrecked beneath her from the simplest touch. Cheeks hued pink from her kiss alone. "I love you."
Taking Hosette's chin into her palm, her thumb finds the corner of her mouth, further smearing the mess of red and pink that adorns her.
"So pretty…"
Her gaze flickers over her, noting every curve of her silhouette beneath her garment. Every inch her hands wander, her lips are quick to follow; feather-light kisses upon her skin. Hosette's gown is raised, presenting her—it starts below her breast, and slowly downward.
A small nip at her waist—the air catches in her throat. "Oh, baby—"
RaspBarry hums, proceeding her advance, "You're perfect, darling—look at you." She couldn't help but admire the smudge of red lipstick against the pale of her hip, quite proud of her work. Her lips move to her front, pressing below her belly button.
Hosette was trembling already—even more so when the other’s palm slides across her waist. Her touch was addictive; Hosette chases every fleeting moment her fingertips glide over her, wanting more—
Her unspoken request is answered when RaspBarry's thumb presses into her skin—the downward trail of it followed by the feel of her nail. Light enough to leave no mark, yet it sends a shiver through her regardless.
Her fingers continue their pursuit, gaze locked on the sight of the other's face, flushed the prettiest shade. When she reaches the lace of her underwear, something in her snaps—
A light prick to her skin, a flood of crimson beneath the pad of her thumb—a sharp gasp from Hosette, whose hips raise to meet her when the warmth of her tongue finds the wound moments later. "Oh—Oh my—"
Her head was spinning, hazy with need, when RaspBarry's mouth hovers over her. So close to where she needs her most. "Please—"
She's silenced by the feel of her kiss over the mark, attempting to calm the ever-racing beat of her heart, when the other hooks her fingers into the lace and slides it over her, "Patience, love…"
That initial hint of sweetness on her tongue had RaspBarry reeling, desperate for the taste of her. Resolve nearly non-existent as she reveals the other beneath her, lips finding the skin between her pelvis and thigh, grip tightening as she pulls her in. A shaky breath of her own when she meets her gaze.
She bares herself, fangs ghosting over her flesh—a silent plea, answered in turn with the smallest nod from her beloved, oh so eager to please, to be of service to her cause, "Yes."
Oh, if her heart could beat, she was sure the other's quick insistence would spread warmth throughout it.
To remedy the sting, RaspBarry's fingers wrap around her—when she bites, it's paired with an upward stroke, drawing a shortened breath from the other below her. "Oh—" Hosette trembles beneath her palm, hips pressing up in a desperate attempt for more—the dual stimulation floods her senses, too much, and yet, not enough.
She jolts harshly when her bite sinks deeper, feeling the other’s equal intensity in the shake of the hand that grasps her leg, keeping it in place. She's a mesmerizing sight, chasing every trail of red down her skin, lashes fluttering even with her eyes shut.
As if she couldn't get enough of her—her blood of the sweetest wine, willingly drowning in it entirely; every drop granted upon her lips making her positively dizzy.
Even so, her touch is relentless, drawing every gasp and whine from Hosette's lips when she teases the length of her cock. A choked inhale, a hiss between gritted teeth when she quickens her pace, "Oh, darlin', I can't—"
Heat pools quickly to her stomach—though all too soon, the pressure is gone.
When she draws back finally, a sharp exhale is pulled from Hosette, thigh twitching beneath RaspBarry's palm. Her lashes flutter, head lulling to the side to catch the other’s gaze.
The sight she's met with leaves Hosette's head spinning—her tongue, soothing over the puncture, red trailed below her lip. The warmth of her kiss upon her skin followed suit.
"Sorry," her voice is low, a whisper, when her cheek comes to rest on the inside of her thigh. The sweetest smile graces her lips, piercing straight through her heart—the flick of her tongue across her fangs sends a chill down Hosette's spine. "Doing alright, darling?"
Her words are paired with another agonizing trail of her fingers along her cock, thumb pressing into the tip, and smearing the pre-cum. Hosette's eyes squeeze shut, pulling her arm up to hide the flush of her cheeks—it took everything in her not to fall apart then and there. "…Yes."
"Good." Her lips flutter across the mark once more, the act sending heat straight to Hosette's core, when her kiss finds the base of her length shortly after, "Look at me."
Her tone drips honey despite the demand, leaving her unable to defy; her arm is moved, and she nearly melts from what finds her in turn. Hardly bothering to clean the mess around her lips, RaspBarry meets her gaze, tongue pressing into the tip—she takes her time, drinking in every hitched breath and choked moan, fingers splaying across her when she finally sinks down.
Her warmth engulfes Hosette entirely, drowning her in hazy pleasure. Her thumb circles the mark on her thigh, already bruising—when blinding pressure is added, it pulls a desperate sob from the one beneath her, hips rutting upwards, "Oh, baby, please—"
It only fuels her more.
Every inch she takes steals the breath from Hosette, thighs rooted in place by RaspBarry's hold as she succumbs to her completely. Her grip on the mattress is tight, a sharp moan escaping when the other swallows around her, adding to that building heat in her core.
"I can't…" Her voice shakes, choking on a whine when the rise of her hips is halted by RaspBarry's palm, coaxing her downward. She fights the way her lashes lower, intent on holding her gaze—when the feel of her fangs grazes her, it sends electricity through her, a burst of white behind her eyelids when she melts. "I'm—"
She couldn't take it anymore, when the heat of her breath tickles her happy trail; another languid stroke upwards, and she's gone.
RaspBarry hums around her, vibration shooting through her being and aiding her desperation. Another rasped plea, and she pulls back, fingers finding the base of her length, stroking where her lips abandon.
It's overwhelming, the sight of her—RaspBarry drinks it in, her sultry gaze the only thing she needs, when she swallows once more before pulling off.
Another press of her tongue to the tip, and Hosette cracks entirely.
Her orgasm washes over her with the arch of her back, spilling across her tongue and lips. RaspBarry makes quick work of cleaning her—each flick of her tongue has Hosette melting below her, choked whines and desperate pleas muttered under her breath.
It was downright sinful; the way her fingertips slide over her skin, the look in her eye when her mouth finds the spill of crimson left behind from her lips.
When she parts from her, Hosette is a mess, fighting to regain a steady breath.
Though her relief is short-lived, when RaspBarry's thigh hooks over hers. A single press of her hips is all it takes, and she's putty beneath her fingertips.
"Darlin'—"
She's cut off with the feel of her sweetheart's kiss—warm and inviting. She falls into it quickly, a silent curse of how easy she truly was when it comes to her affections.
"I need you," RaspBarry pleads, desire of her own bleeding through the haze. Her voice is choked, her thighs trembling when Hosette's hands make contact—she's desperate, another roll of her hips drawing a whine from the one below her, still sensitive from their previous endeavor.
Her kiss is like poison, though Hosette chases it regardless—tongue finding the prick of her fang, her senses flooding with the taste of iron between her teeth.
Breathless when they part, Hosette's hold on her tightens, groaning with each steady rock against her. Slick with the other's saliva and her own release, aiding the gentle rock of their joint hips. "Oh, you'll be the death of me…"
"Please…" RaspBarry's tone is hushed, cracked, when her lips trail to Hosette's jaw and slowly down her skin. With each hint of her teeth against her flesh, the other shudders, the beat of her heart thrumming hard in her chest, almost fearful.
To have her life in the palm of her hand—it was thrilling.
…And the thought of that was frightening.
She won't bite—oh, no, she's had her fill by now—though when her tongue finds her pulse point, it nearly drives her mad.
RaspBarry wills herself to draw back—a mark of purpling red bruises the area between her neck and shoulder instead, and it satisfies her all the same.
"I love you—" She cries out, shaking when Hosette's fingers find her cock, every downward thrust paired with a breathless whine. Her hips push relentlessly against the other, hot and oh, so good when that pressure builds inside her. Hosette drives upwards, a tremor in her touch from the stimulation of their joint movement, though ever so eager to return the favor.
"You're so—" She whines out, a mess of incoherency once more when RaspBarry's nails dig into her arm, her pace brutal, "So—beautiful like this…"
Another drag of her palm against her cock, and RaspBarry cums with a low cry, falling apart completely in the arms of her love; a sheltered embrace. Hosette is quick to follow, the rise of her hips and the husk of her voice ringing hot through her core.
A final kiss finds the corner of her lip, messy and desperate, an attempt to chase her affections—yet it warms her through regardless, "I love you too."
The candle flickers at the bedside, shrouding the pair in the warmth of its glow as they settle once more for the night.
RaspBarry has no need for sleep in these hours—and yet she finds herself drowsy for once, in the comforting touch of the one who holds her heart. Fingertips hesitate, daring not to let her go when she's led from the sheets and to the bathroom, hushed giggles filling the hall in their wake. They dance in each other's tender embrace, fleeting moments of adoration when their lips meet once more.
A pair of lovedrunk fools, the two of them.
She'd truly found herself in safety with the other, her love consuming her wholly and filling her heart.
When they find their way to the room, Hosette grasps the handle of the tub, twisting it on and watching as it fills. A calming touch slides to her waist, bringing her to meet that piercing gaze once more, "Thank you for indulging me tonight, darling."
There's a hint of worry that flashes in RaspBarry's eye, a silent apology when her hand slides lower, fingertips ghosting the puncture at the inside of her thigh. She follows with a kiss—the warmth of her lips a comfort, a reminder of her affection, which she sweetly cherishes.
A smile curls at the corners of Hosette's mouth when they part, swaying from her touch. "'Course, sugar—I'm yours, always. Anything you need."
Her palms cup the other's cheeks, expression softening when her thumb catches a stray tear, "Oh, darlin'…" She cradles her close, melting from the way RaspBarry presses into her touch, meeting her gaze with a quiet sniffle, "You're sweet…"
She finds her lips again, a gentle promise to soothe her beloved.
"I'm here."