Keeping his spirits up is just as important as his body healing. In moderation, she's sure he's capable of handling most things.
But she knows moderation is a lot to ask of the man when it comes to his passions. Yet even just the prospect of going to the space has him so happy--she can't help but be happy, too. This is the Percy she loves most. Busy, thinking, planning. It's that clever mind of his at work.
Yet these days she knows she's a passion of his, too.
"Suddenly you're very concerned about your routine," she grins. "That wasn't the case fifteen minutes ago. Strange."
She hums as she gently moves onto him, pressing him back into the pillows, breasts pressing to his chest. It's a noticeably slower approach than she'd typically take. A tame touch against his neck rather than hungry, though not for lack of desire. She doesn't know how much is too much for him, but there's only one way to find out.
Frankly, Percival de Rolo wouldn't know moderation if it bit him in the ass. It clearly exists - other people are capable of it, after all - but he can't seem to do anything halfway. He leaps off the metaphorical cliff every time, given the chance to find what he wants at the bottom.
But Vex has proven more than adept at slowing him down lately. With rare exception, he's willing to listen to her even when he'd rather not listen to anyone.
"My routine suddenly got a lot more interesting," he points out, running a hand up her spine. While polite turns around the garden are survivable - and the company is second to none - they might have just found a more enjoyable way to get his heart rate up. Add in walks within the castle, specifically down to his tools, and a man could hardly ask for more. "Are there any, ah, ground rules, besides letting you do the hard work?"
"Your wifely duties," Percy repeats, unable to keep from smirking. She's near enough that he's a little cross-eyed, not to mention tempted to close the distance and kiss her himself. "Is that what we're calling it now?"
In fairness, the phrase encompasses rather more than let me fuck you the way I want to; if he needs to stop, and he's not willing, calling a halt to proceedings qualifies.
He's dearly hoping this won't be too much for him, though. The weight of Vex's body is as familiar as it is welcome, and her touch has lost none of its power in the time since they last found themselves in this situation. A few weeks ago, it would have been well beyond him, but now, he's determined to make it happen.
"Are you making fun of my efforts to be a proper lady?" She asks him, and perhaps she'd come off as convincingly offended if she wasn't mirroring his smirk. She knows he knows what he signed up for. Vex rewards his sass with a nuzzle of her nose against his. A kiss should follow, but she decides to pluck his spectacles off his face and place them atop her book on the nightstand instead.
Then he gets his kiss.
Vex has been incredibly patient. She hasn't wanted him to feel any which way about her own desire for intimacy. And truly, she has been content with holding one another, kissing and petting as his health allows. All that's mattered is that they're together.
But gods has she wanted to fuck the man she loves. To make love to him now that they're set and solid, when there's no hiding behind it being some sort of fling or tryst. Maybe the wait is worth it to now be laying atop her husband, but now Vex feels no shame in letting him feel the hunger in her kiss and in the press of her body to his, into the mattress and pillows.
He grins, ready to kiss her, but she denies him just a moment or two longer, and he groans - no more serious than she is.
(Vex is a lady in every way that matters, so far as he's concerned: she knows how to adjust her behavior to the company she keeps, she moves and speaks with perfect elegance, and she's capable of planning with an eye toward a larger future than simply her own. Everything beyond that, using the right fork and addressing nobility with the correct titles, is petty melodrama. It can all be learned in time. She carries with her the most important traits, everything that can't be taught.)
"You're a tease, you know that?" Percy says lightly, clearly enamored of the fact, before she shuts him up. And the kiss is well worth waiting for, everything he's missed about them in one longing, lingering expression of their feelings for each other. It's not so different from other moments spent together in bed since his return - but those have felt less playful to him, somehow, as though they've been so busy proving he's alive that they haven't been able to enjoy themselves. He snakes a hand between them, looking for lacing or buttons or whatever it is keeping her blouse on today; now that he actually needs to know, he realizes he hadn't noticed.
"I do know that," she replies proudly, and does them both the favor of finding and undoing the single tie that keeps her blouse together. She hadn't bothered properly dressing, perhaps giving her plan away: this is exactly where she hoped they would be. He needs to be in bed in some way or another, and if there's one surefire way to get him there, she knows it.
Now, whether this keeps him in bed for a day or two is yet to be seen. Only one way to find out.
She sits up, a pointed pressure on his hips as she shifts her weight, lifting her arms shucking off her blouse and tossing it aside.
"Not too much for your heart, I hope."
If her bare breasts does him in, which she wouldn't really hold against him as they are rather spectacular, they won't be getting very far. But he'd still be in bed, at least.
"Mm," he answers, watching with undisguised interest as she undresses. His prick throbs at the sight of her, his gaze lingering in ways he hasn't allowed himself for a while. (Not that she would have kept him from it, of course - but it's like staring at a banquet table when you're starving and unable to partake. Profoundly unsatisfying.) "You'll have to work a bit harder than that, I'm afraid."
If you want to kill me is the bit that he doesn't say, naturally. The little note of concern last time he'd flippantly referenced his own death is enough to keep him from it here.
Percy reaches up to his collar and begins unbuttoning his shirt. He hasn't made much more of an attempt at clothing today, having walked around in his shirtsleeves rather than putting on his waistcoat, jacket, and ascot. On a quiet day - the sort when they have their meals brought to them, rather than the other way around - the effort really doesn't seem worth it. "I might have to take issue with tonight's rules, though. I'd like nothing more than to roll you onto your back right now."
He's not going to, but it'd be so much easier to give her breasts the attention they deserve.
"There's always tomorrow, darling." Except she doubts he'll have much energy left to spare after a visit to his workshop. Tomorrow, or the day after, or after that. They have so much time, now. "Be patient. I'll make sure we're both satisfied."
And she starts with batting his hands away from his collar so she can take care of those buttons. She likes undressing him, peeling away the layers of nobleman until she's down to his bare skin. A normal day would have her all but ripping his shirt off his body, but she's making a valiant attempt to be mindful. Slow, careful touches, and that includes the methodical slip of one button after the other.
She doesn't need to watch her fingers to do it, so she leans back down to kiss him again, pushing open his shirt once she reaches the final button. He's still too thin for her liking, but she knows each day sees a little more of his musculature returning. Being a corpse does that to you--and, vainly, Vex is glad she wasn't dead long enough for that to happen to her, too.
"I'll hold you to that." If he's able, anyway - and if he's able, he'll hold a lot more than just her words. If not, then tonight will provide plenty of inspiration for his imagination until they can try again.
Already, he knows he'll think of this moment long after it ends: Vex gloriously in control for them both, handling his shirt for him as she lays another kiss upon his mouth. The sweet taste of her, the warmth of her back and breasts - and soon enough, he's letting go of her and pulling his arms out of the sleeves, throwing the shirt out of the bed.
Percy looks up at her, his smile irrepressible. Under her gaze, it's hard not to feel handsome; it doesn't matter that his ribs are too prominent, or that the skin that covers them is crisscrossed with old scars, when she's touching him. He reaches out for the lacing at the waist of her trousers - patience isn't a strength of his tonight, however inconvenient that might be.
Vex is already of the mind that if he's exhausted and sore tomorrow, it will be well worth it for the smile on his face right now.
"You'd be working for this if I weren't feeling generous," she teases. The truth of the matter is she's sure a clock is ticking somewhere, Percy's energy dwindling down with each moment of excitement. So she once more shoos his hands away, shifting her weight onto her knees so that she can start removing her pants.
"Considering I didn't get you a wedding gift, this will have to do."
The speed in which she's pantsless is impressive given their amount of space and positions, but she does it without toppling over or squishing her new husband. And then it's his turn, her hands going to his waist, and she can't help but think this is quite the contrast from their first night together. It's not a bad one. Frantic passion and abandon is good, but there's a part of her that's always yearned for something more like this. Familiar. Domestic. Slow--and while she wishes the reason for it were better than her love recently revived from the dead, she's beginning to learn that slow has been more calming and peaceful than suffocating. For her, at least.
"Marrying me was the gift." Still teasing, but it comes out thick with desire. Watching her strip down is a true pleasure, one he's certain he'll never tire of, and tonight he can appreciate just how efficiently she removes the last of their clothes.
He's not all that hard by the time they get his breeches off, which is significantly less responsive to Vex's charms than his body usually is; under ideal circumstances, just seeing her like this can be enough. But he's not worried about it, at least not yet. Right now, he's too enamored with her presence - and the back-of-his-mind knowledge that she's been holding back, undoubtedly still is to an extent, but less than she was - to care about anything related to him. Even if he can't perform, he's got every intent of getting her off tonight. Holding her close, fucking her with his fingers until she's making all his favorite sounds and clinging to him, would make tonight a triumph in itself.
(But it'll be better if it's not his fingers, and they both know it. With luck, and a little time, maybe.)
His hand smooths back down her spine, no cloth hiding her from his palm this time, and gives her ass a squeeze when he reaches it. This is a proper lady, all flowery words cast aside: She holds power and wields it as though it's her birthright. Drawing her down for another kiss, he drags his hand forward over her hip and between her legs, fingertips moving lightly over her slit. At heart, they're both teases at times, and he knows it.
She's secure enough in herself, in them, that she doesn't think twice about Percy needing a bit more time. His body is still adjusting to being up and about--a full erection might be pushing it, but gods, they'll try.
And Vex quite enjoys the trying.
"I've missed you," she purrs. Just a teasing touch is enough to get a soft moan from her, lips reluctant to leave Percy's. She settles for a harder kiss before her mouth trails down his neck, and as she shifts down his body, she moves out of reach of his fingers.
She hopes to quiet any protest from him with her tongue against his pulse.
"Having you on your back has its advantages."
Vex is sure he's bright enough to figure out her final destination as she kisses down his chest, moving further down his body.
"Me, too," Percy murmurs into her mouth, just before she kisses him. His fingers delve further, intent on reacquainting himself with the shape of her, but she moves out of the way just as he's getting started.
Of course he groans - anyone, he thinks, would be disappointed to be presented with his wife's flesh and then denied it - but she makes up for it. Vex has a clever mouth, no matter what she's using it for, and her attention sinks into his skin. Something warm and heavy settles inside his belly, the warmth of drunkenness without the poor judgment, as he realizes where she's going.
"One advantage, at least." He smooths a hand affectionately over her hair. Every kiss lingers on, even after she's moved past a given patch of skin, his abdomen tensing when she nips at a particularly good spot. "I'm sure we could think of a few more, given enough time."
Doting on Percy is a pleasure. They've been forced to slow down, and truthfully? She doesn't hate it. He has to lay back and simply let her take care of him. Good in nonsexual situations. Great, in this sexual situation.
Her hand smooths over his stomach, lips finding the line to his hip. More pronounced than it should be, but something she can't resisting pressing her tongue to before she kisses it. She does resist reaching for his cock, checking to see if she's inspired any action, and instead ignores it even as her breasts brush against it. A watched pot never boils and all that.
"You're the most handsome man there is, you know."
Vex knows she doesn't compliment him enough. On his brain, perhaps, but appearance? She can do more. Especially now that he's been a corpse.
He can't help it; he laughs aloud, startled (and a little delighted) by her declaration. They both know it's not actually true, objectively speaking. If someone could take top honors in terms of looks, he's likely not a pale, scarred, near-sighted thing who spent a few weeks too many in a crypt.
What it really means is something else, something he values far greater than any notion of objective truth. This is how much I love you, she's saying, so much that I look at your face, in all its pinched sour-looking glory, and I don't care that you're not even the most handsome de Rolo.
"I think we need to have your eyes checked," he says warmly, a low noise escaping him as her breast grazes softly against his shaft. Her attention is certainly having some effect, even if it's slower than he'd like; her tongue at his hipbone, lining out the seam of his leg, was particularly inspiring. "Or perhaps see if you've sustained a concussion."
Have you hit your head recently, Vex? He reaches out to touch her cheek, all affection.
He'll always be handsome to her. She knows one day he'll be old and--well, she supposes he's already lost the color in his hair, but he'll wear the passage of time on his skin for all to see. But she knows she'll love him all the same, and it's clear in her eyes as she nuzzles her cheek into his touch.
"My eyesight is perfect." Hunter's sight and all that. Still, she can't resist a witty remark, grinning before kissing his palm. "I'd be more worried for what that says about the rest of the population."
Not that she particularly cares to look herself. She's happily taken, and she looks forward to a lifetime with the man beneath her.
"You've always been handsome to me."
And he knows as well as she does that there's been no opportunity for a concussion in the safety and comfort of Whitestone. The worst injury was a bruised toe when stepping around their sturdy, heavy, expensive bedframe and misjudging the clearance because the damn thing is so big. What a problem to have.
"More than your eyesight," he murmurs, looking down at her with a smile he's sure is maudlin. Right now, he can't muster any energy to care, not when she presses a kiss to the lines of his palm. Every scrap of Vex is perfect, so far as Percy's concerned; she loves deeply and without hesitation, once she's convinced of the value of trying. Her loyalty to him extends even to the parts of himself he doesn't like, despite all reason and sense.
Perhaps with time, he'll learn to look at himself and see what his wife does. He can't imagine living up to the image Vex has of him, but he'd like to come to a point where he feels he's managed it.
She's clearly not going to accept you've hit your head, dear as an explanation, though, so he offers the next best thing. "That's your beauty reflected."
"Darling, I'm sure there are better things down here you'd like me to gag on," she says, laughing as she rolls her eyes. A ridiculous man with ridiculously sappy words.
She's the most fortunate woman in the world to hear them.
"My beauty reflected. Did you sneak a peek at one of those awful novels I've been picking my way through?" Hey, she's needed to pass the time as he's rested. They're garbage, but the enjoyable kind. Except Percy's words are sweet and lovely, not garbage, but she has to tease him.
Her lips press down against the skin of his hip once more, a hand sliding up the opposite thigh.
He flushes - more maudlin than he realized, if he's catching hell for it - but he's more amused than offended. "I'd rather you didn't gag at all."
But given the choice...she's not wrong. She's getting closer to her ultimate goal, and Percy's thighs tense beneath her in anticipation. He'll take petty mockery from his wife - still breathtaking to think, his wife - if her kisses move closer to the center of his pelvis.
Her mouth doesn't immediately move to see if she's right, but her hand does. Her fingers find his shaft, light and teasing as they explore. She's in no particular hurry, enjoying each moment for what it is: a gift. She came so close to losing him and losing these opportunities to love him.
Never again. If that miserable time taught her anything, it's to appreciate the man she loves at any given opportunity.
The air in his lungs feels heavy and hot - his whole body does, but especially his chest - as she finally, finally touches him. His skin's tingling with her attention, his prick aching for her hand to wrap around it in earnest. That she doesn't isn't all that maddening, though; he'd like tonight to go on as long as they can make it last.
This is, after all, as close as they're getting to a wedding night. Vex deserves something spectacular.
"You, ah -" Percy swallows, trying to rally his voice. He touches her shoulder, as though to ground himself in her. "You haven't lost it."
A belated wedding night is all good and well in her books. A few days ago he might not have had the strength--especially not on the day they did elope, with how long he was on his feet. This is already an excellent use of their time and energy.
"Really? I haven't even done anything to you yet," she points out with far too wide of a smile. She knows what she's doing to him by taking her time. "But absence makes the anticipation grow stronger, I suppose."
"Oh, but you have," he answers, breathless. And she knows it, too, the minx - she's smiling much too brightly not to be in on the joke here. "You just haven't done enough."
They're both in on it; he's smiling down at her, pink-cheeked and utterly indulgent as he touches the ridge of one of her ears, drawing his fingers along the fine line of it. Slow and steady, it turns out, has its own appeal. They might not be able to recreate the wild frenzy of their first encounters, at the moment, but right now, he doesn't want to. Not when the alternative feels like this.
The lightest of touches from him tickles, and Vex laughs, ducking her head away from that touch and nipping at his hip. Her fingers stroke him with a similar light touch, because whatever he'd like to do she can do several times over. Some friendly retaliation despite the fact that she started this.
"I do want this to last for more than five minutes," she teases, and the teasing touch is at odds with her words. She doesn't mean to drive him towards any edge just for him to finish the moment she has her lips around him.
Oh, but he's so fun to drive a little bit crazy. He can take it.
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pathography) wrote2024-12-24 12:19 pm
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But she knows moderation is a lot to ask of the man when it comes to his passions. Yet even just the prospect of going to the space has him so happy--she can't help but be happy, too. This is the Percy she loves most. Busy, thinking, planning. It's that clever mind of his at work.
Yet these days she knows she's a passion of his, too.
"Suddenly you're very concerned about your routine," she grins. "That wasn't the case fifteen minutes ago. Strange."
She hums as she gently moves onto him, pressing him back into the pillows, breasts pressing to his chest. It's a noticeably slower approach than she'd typically take. A tame touch against his neck rather than hungry, though not for lack of desire. She doesn't know how much is too much for him, but there's only one way to find out.
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But Vex has proven more than adept at slowing him down lately. With rare exception, he's willing to listen to her even when he'd rather not listen to anyone.
"My routine suddenly got a lot more interesting," he points out, running a hand up her spine. While polite turns around the garden are survivable - and the company is second to none - they might have just found a more enjoyable way to get his heart rate up. Add in walks within the castle, specifically down to his tools, and a man could hardly ask for more. "Are there any, ah, ground rules, besides letting you do the hard work?"
So to speak.
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"I don't know if I can ask you to promise to tell me to stop if something feels amiss."
It's been a while and she knows she's good. That doesn't really encourage Percy to pull the emergency brake unless it's dire.
And even then...
Vex looks like she might lean down to kiss him, but stops just short of his lips.
"We may just have to have the one rule. You'll have to allow me to attend to my wifely duties without interference."
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In fairness, the phrase encompasses rather more than let me fuck you the way I want to; if he needs to stop, and he's not willing, calling a halt to proceedings qualifies.
He's dearly hoping this won't be too much for him, though. The weight of Vex's body is as familiar as it is welcome, and her touch has lost none of its power in the time since they last found themselves in this situation. A few weeks ago, it would have been well beyond him, but now, he's determined to make it happen.
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Then he gets his kiss.
Vex has been incredibly patient. She hasn't wanted him to feel any which way about her own desire for intimacy. And truly, she has been content with holding one another, kissing and petting as his health allows. All that's mattered is that they're together.
But gods has she wanted to fuck the man she loves. To make love to him now that they're set and solid, when there's no hiding behind it being some sort of fling or tryst. Maybe the wait is worth it to now be laying atop her husband, but now Vex feels no shame in letting him feel the hunger in her kiss and in the press of her body to his, into the mattress and pillows.
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(Vex is a lady in every way that matters, so far as he's concerned: she knows how to adjust her behavior to the company she keeps, she moves and speaks with perfect elegance, and she's capable of planning with an eye toward a larger future than simply her own. Everything beyond that, using the right fork and addressing nobility with the correct titles, is petty melodrama. It can all be learned in time. She carries with her the most important traits, everything that can't be taught.)
"You're a tease, you know that?" Percy says lightly, clearly enamored of the fact, before she shuts him up. And the kiss is well worth waiting for, everything he's missed about them in one longing, lingering expression of their feelings for each other. It's not so different from other moments spent together in bed since his return - but those have felt less playful to him, somehow, as though they've been so busy proving he's alive that they haven't been able to enjoy themselves. He snakes a hand between them, looking for lacing or buttons or whatever it is keeping her blouse on today; now that he actually needs to know, he realizes he hadn't noticed.
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Now, whether this keeps him in bed for a day or two is yet to be seen. Only one way to find out.
She sits up, a pointed pressure on his hips as she shifts her weight, lifting her arms shucking off her blouse and tossing it aside.
"Not too much for your heart, I hope."
If her bare breasts does him in, which she wouldn't really hold against him as they are rather spectacular, they won't be getting very far. But he'd still be in bed, at least.
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If you want to kill me is the bit that he doesn't say, naturally. The little note of concern last time he'd flippantly referenced his own death is enough to keep him from it here.
Percy reaches up to his collar and begins unbuttoning his shirt. He hasn't made much more of an attempt at clothing today, having walked around in his shirtsleeves rather than putting on his waistcoat, jacket, and ascot. On a quiet day - the sort when they have their meals brought to them, rather than the other way around - the effort really doesn't seem worth it. "I might have to take issue with tonight's rules, though. I'd like nothing more than to roll you onto your back right now."
He's not going to, but it'd be so much easier to give her breasts the attention they deserve.
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And she starts with batting his hands away from his collar so she can take care of those buttons. She likes undressing him, peeling away the layers of nobleman until she's down to his bare skin. A normal day would have her all but ripping his shirt off his body, but she's making a valiant attempt to be mindful. Slow, careful touches, and that includes the methodical slip of one button after the other.
She doesn't need to watch her fingers to do it, so she leans back down to kiss him again, pushing open his shirt once she reaches the final button. He's still too thin for her liking, but she knows each day sees a little more of his musculature returning. Being a corpse does that to you--and, vainly, Vex is glad she wasn't dead long enough for that to happen to her, too.
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Already, he knows he'll think of this moment long after it ends: Vex gloriously in control for them both, handling his shirt for him as she lays another kiss upon his mouth. The sweet taste of her, the warmth of her back and breasts - and soon enough, he's letting go of her and pulling his arms out of the sleeves, throwing the shirt out of the bed.
Percy looks up at her, his smile irrepressible. Under her gaze, it's hard not to feel handsome; it doesn't matter that his ribs are too prominent, or that the skin that covers them is crisscrossed with old scars, when she's touching him. He reaches out for the lacing at the waist of her trousers - patience isn't a strength of his tonight, however inconvenient that might be.
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"You'd be working for this if I weren't feeling generous," she teases. The truth of the matter is she's sure a clock is ticking somewhere, Percy's energy dwindling down with each moment of excitement. So she once more shoos his hands away, shifting her weight onto her knees so that she can start removing her pants.
"Considering I didn't get you a wedding gift, this will have to do."
The speed in which she's pantsless is impressive given their amount of space and positions, but she does it without toppling over or squishing her new husband. And then it's his turn, her hands going to his waist, and she can't help but think this is quite the contrast from their first night together. It's not a bad one. Frantic passion and abandon is good, but there's a part of her that's always yearned for something more like this. Familiar. Domestic. Slow--and while she wishes the reason for it were better than her love recently revived from the dead, she's beginning to learn that slow has been more calming and peaceful than suffocating. For her, at least.
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He's not all that hard by the time they get his breeches off, which is significantly less responsive to Vex's charms than his body usually is; under ideal circumstances, just seeing her like this can be enough. But he's not worried about it, at least not yet. Right now, he's too enamored with her presence - and the back-of-his-mind knowledge that she's been holding back, undoubtedly still is to an extent, but less than she was - to care about anything related to him. Even if he can't perform, he's got every intent of getting her off tonight. Holding her close, fucking her with his fingers until she's making all his favorite sounds and clinging to him, would make tonight a triumph in itself.
(But it'll be better if it's not his fingers, and they both know it. With luck, and a little time, maybe.)
His hand smooths back down her spine, no cloth hiding her from his palm this time, and gives her ass a squeeze when he reaches it. This is a proper lady, all flowery words cast aside: She holds power and wields it as though it's her birthright. Drawing her down for another kiss, he drags his hand forward over her hip and between her legs, fingertips moving lightly over her slit. At heart, they're both teases at times, and he knows it.
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And Vex quite enjoys the trying.
"I've missed you," she purrs. Just a teasing touch is enough to get a soft moan from her, lips reluctant to leave Percy's. She settles for a harder kiss before her mouth trails down his neck, and as she shifts down his body, she moves out of reach of his fingers.
She hopes to quiet any protest from him with her tongue against his pulse.
"Having you on your back has its advantages."
Vex is sure he's bright enough to figure out her final destination as she kisses down his chest, moving further down his body.
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Of course he groans - anyone, he thinks, would be disappointed to be presented with his wife's flesh and then denied it - but she makes up for it. Vex has a clever mouth, no matter what she's using it for, and her attention sinks into his skin. Something warm and heavy settles inside his belly, the warmth of drunkenness without the poor judgment, as he realizes where she's going.
"One advantage, at least." He smooths a hand affectionately over her hair. Every kiss lingers on, even after she's moved past a given patch of skin, his abdomen tensing when she nips at a particularly good spot. "I'm sure we could think of a few more, given enough time."
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Her hand smooths over his stomach, lips finding the line to his hip. More pronounced than it should be, but something she can't resisting pressing her tongue to before she kisses it. She does resist reaching for his cock, checking to see if she's inspired any action, and instead ignores it even as her breasts brush against it. A watched pot never boils and all that.
"You're the most handsome man there is, you know."
Vex knows she doesn't compliment him enough. On his brain, perhaps, but appearance? She can do more. Especially now that he's been a corpse.
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What it really means is something else, something he values far greater than any notion of objective truth. This is how much I love you, she's saying, so much that I look at your face, in all its pinched sour-looking glory, and I don't care that you're not even the most handsome de Rolo.
"I think we need to have your eyes checked," he says warmly, a low noise escaping him as her breast grazes softly against his shaft. Her attention is certainly having some effect, even if it's slower than he'd like; her tongue at his hipbone, lining out the seam of his leg, was particularly inspiring. "Or perhaps see if you've sustained a concussion."
Have you hit your head recently, Vex? He reaches out to touch her cheek, all affection.
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"My eyesight is perfect." Hunter's sight and all that. Still, she can't resist a witty remark, grinning before kissing his palm. "I'd be more worried for what that says about the rest of the population."
Not that she particularly cares to look herself. She's happily taken, and she looks forward to a lifetime with the man beneath her.
"You've always been handsome to me."
And he knows as well as she does that there's been no opportunity for a concussion in the safety and comfort of Whitestone. The worst injury was a bruised toe when stepping around their sturdy, heavy, expensive bedframe and misjudging the clearance because the damn thing is so big. What a problem to have.
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Perhaps with time, he'll learn to look at himself and see what his wife does. He can't imagine living up to the image Vex has of him, but he'd like to come to a point where he feels he's managed it.
She's clearly not going to accept you've hit your head, dear as an explanation, though, so he offers the next best thing. "That's your beauty reflected."
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She's the most fortunate woman in the world to hear them.
"My beauty reflected. Did you sneak a peek at one of those awful novels I've been picking my way through?" Hey, she's needed to pass the time as he's rested. They're garbage, but the enjoyable kind. Except Percy's words are sweet and lovely, not garbage, but she has to tease him.
Her lips press down against the skin of his hip once more, a hand sliding up the opposite thigh.
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But given the choice...she's not wrong. She's getting closer to her ultimate goal, and Percy's thighs tense beneath her in anticipation. He'll take petty mockery from his wife - still breathtaking to think, his wife - if her kisses move closer to the center of his pelvis.
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Her mouth doesn't immediately move to see if she's right, but her hand does. Her fingers find his shaft, light and teasing as they explore. She's in no particular hurry, enjoying each moment for what it is: a gift. She came so close to losing him and losing these opportunities to love him.
Never again. If that miserable time taught her anything, it's to appreciate the man she loves at any given opportunity.
"Only one way to find out, isn't there, darling?"
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This is, after all, as close as they're getting to a wedding night. Vex deserves something spectacular.
"You, ah -" Percy swallows, trying to rally his voice. He touches her shoulder, as though to ground himself in her. "You haven't lost it."
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"Really? I haven't even done anything to you yet," she points out with far too wide of a smile. She knows what she's doing to him by taking her time. "But absence makes the anticipation grow stronger, I suppose."
Not quite the saying, but it's true.
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They're both in on it; he's smiling down at her, pink-cheeked and utterly indulgent as he touches the ridge of one of her ears, drawing his fingers along the fine line of it. Slow and steady, it turns out, has its own appeal. They might not be able to recreate the wild frenzy of their first encounters, at the moment, but right now, he doesn't want to. Not when the alternative feels like this.
claws out of the abyss
"I do want this to last for more than five minutes," she teases, and the teasing touch is at odds with her words. She doesn't mean to drive him towards any edge just for him to finish the moment she has her lips around him.
Oh, but he's so fun to drive a little bit crazy. He can take it.
😍😍😍
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