Work Text:
"Mistress?"
You sat in front of your vanity mirror, getting ready to apply your makeup for the day. The morning light was streaming in off of the open balcony doors, gentle breeze shifting the sheer curtains.
"Yes?" you answer back, seeing Caleb still sprawled out on the bed, chest exposed as those beautiful and dark eyes track your every breath. He had on his loose restrains, allowing him to shift positions in bed as needed.
"I want to touch myself," he tells you, one hand already beginning to rub at his exposed cock. He's half hard.
He's always like this in the morning, needy and wanting. You've seen him beg for your permission to touch himself, to relieve some of that pent up desire that you get too busy to indulge.
"Go ahead," you tell him, turning around in your chair to watch as he starts to slowly stroke. He's giving you direct eye contact, just like you've taught him to do. He's such a good trained dog.
"Tell me about it," you instruct him as he becomes fully hard now. You're beginning to feel something yourself now, that pulsing between your legs. The ache in your clit, the tightness in your walls that's telling you you're going to be late for your first meeting of the day.
"I want to see you, Mistress. I want to please you. Please," he's barely forming the words now, his eyes half lidded as he fists himself harder, faster. "Please, let me please you."
You place your head on your hands, held up against the back of your chair. "Do you think you've been good?" you pout, knowing the answer to this question is no. He will lie, like he always does.
That's why the shackles are needed.
"Yes, Mistress."
"Hmmm," you think on this, deciding how much you will allow him today. You've always been like this with him as well, so generous. You can't deny him much. He's your older brother, and you love him so dearly. He has only ever tried to protect you in whatever misguided way he thought was best. To serve his Empress. How misguided.
"Please," he begs again, that bead of precum glistening on his tip.
Smiling, you stand up from the chair, chemise falling off your shoulder. "Okay, Pet."
You're crawling onto the bed as he strokes himself slower, tugging at his tip just a bit when he reaches the top. He doesn't move, knows he isn't allowed to until you give him a command. You take him in as he is right now: back braced against the headboard, naked, blanket barely covering one of his lower legs as he bites his lip.
You bend over to lick his tip, tasting the salty sweetness of him. You go molten, knowing that this is the only flavor you've ever wanted your whole life. It's a shame it took to this point for you to get it from him. This is how the two of you were always meant to be.
Caleb's hips buck up from the slight contact. He whines, his hand stalling at the base of his cock as you start to lick him base tip to base and back again.
"Mistress," he calls again, his voice deep from the lust of wanting more. You know what he's begging for. It's the same every time. He wants to be buried so deep inside you that it's hard to tell where you stop and he beings. He wants to fuck you so hard, to get out his aggression at being stripped of his position as the High Marshal.
"Yes, Pet?" you ask, giving his tip one last lick before resting your cheek on his thigh, lazily stroking his cock as you stare at him.
His eyes glaze over, that purple going more pink than you've ever seen it before. It's the wounded pride. It's the deep want. It's the mix of the what could have been with the what is.
"Let me feel you," he settles on this, knowing asking for most anything else will result in punishment. You don't like to hurt him, but when a dog misbehaves you have to correct it.
"Do you think you deserve it?" your eyes flicker over to the cuffs on his wrists, the oh so faint scars there. His neck is no better, the faded wounds there deeper from the early days.
"Yes," he lies again, his hands twitching by his sides.
You gather up the long hem of your nigh dress, climbing on top of him. You kiss his deeply, your mouth taking over his in an instant. He's pliant and willing, allowing you in without a moments hesitation.
He tastes just as he did before, if not with a little more bitterness.
You sink down onto his cock, not needing any lubrication between your own wetness and the saliva still clinging to his dick. Caleb moans into your mouth as your walls close around him.
This is always the moment where you lose yourself, the moment where your self control is at it's weakest. Just a much as he has always craved you, you've craved him just as deeply.
Why did he ever have to leave?
You begin sliding your hips, hands pressed to the headboard for better ease of movement as you go. Caleb, ignoring his explicit rule not to move unless ordered to, grips your hips. You're stilled as he starts to trust up into you, his breathing becoming labored as your lips part.
You don't mind, but know you'll have to do something to remind him of the rules later. Something that will tell him that you enjoyed it as much as he needs to listen. Not too much. You do still enjoy it when he shows he still has his own mind. It would be no fun if he had broken too soon.
"Caleb," you groan, placing your forehead against his in a rare moment where you revert to your former roles. In moments like these where he's thrusting into you so deep, where you can feel him in the most intimate parts of your soul, you are nothing more than you were before he left- a needy little sister following in her older brothers footsteps.
He cups you face, the cold metal scraping against your skin from the chains. "No one else?"
This is the same too, like he needs the confirmation that you've not had anyone else in your bed. It would be the thing that really broke him. It would be one of the last things you ever did, you know.
"You're the only one," you answer, and you mean it.
In time you will present him to the rest of the Empire, as your husband. In time you will let him out. In time he will be able to walk about the inner castle. In time, when you're pregnant with his child. When there's no one who can oppose the two of you together.
Caleb smiles, holding onto this one bit of hope, and he goes in deeper, always finding more of you for him to take and claim as his own as much as you have claimed him as your own. He kisses you, bringing you down to his lips as he buries himself deep one last time and empties himself into you.
He's cumming, his moans wild with release of the rage and want. You tumble over the edge with him, dragging teeth over his bottom lip as you do to give him the pain and pleasure mix you feel when you're with him like this.
In time you both will be free. A few more years— and maybe a few more after that. Just to be sure.