Work Text:
Monet’s knees are slowly touching down the floor.
Their friction against cold tiles are warming up the surface and the skin, step by step.
That way, her bruises regain their color.
Her hands leave the knees and apply themselves to brush against Doflamingo’s pants. Slowly, they go up all along the length of his legs.
With her mouth, she releases a warm air she was holding in for too long.
Doflamingo welcomes her devotion.
Monet doesn’t need to restrain her need to serve him anymore.
Her hands leave the fabric of the pants to rise up briefly in the form of an oran prayer, palms stretched towards the sky.
Between her hands, she gets a glimpse of her benefactor’s face.
Her vision of grace is revealed.
A longing sigh slightly slips before she takes him between her fingers and her lips.
Doflamingo responds with a deep whisper, slowly exhaling the word as pleasure is rising through his voice : « Good ».
Delighted from this incentive, she takes a better lean, closes her eyes and hosts him further down the throat.
Few tears sparkle on her eyelashes.
To take so much of him is hard but Monet dedicates herself to fulfill him as much as she can.
As she feels her cheeks warming up and getting wet, she applies herself to savor him more fervently.
Everything she’s able to feel entangles with confusion : her temples burning, her throat completly tight, the cold of the tiles, the squelching sound and the breath noises.
Everything that’s haunting her : the huge silhouette that overhangs her and the tenderness in the words he gives to her.
She wants to be able to return him everything he offers her and to tell him how much she loves him. She wants to tell him everything she’s ready to do and give for him.
Thus, she kneels and prays.
She gives herself to God as He pleases. He can use her as He wants, she would follow anyhow.
Thus, her bruises will never fade.
From vespers to matins, Monet worships her master devoulty.
Her soul would be blessed from each stroke.
Whatever he brushes her thigh under the table in the morning or he strangles her neck in the evening. Monet will remain faithful whatever he plans for her.
She will answer to the call of all communions and will drink every holy water he’ll pour into her.