Work Text:
Situated atop toned thighs, your own secure around his waist; deft, nimble fingers trail upwards from your knees following along the outline of your thighs before settling finally on your hips, fingertips tapping along to an odd rhythm. Astarion noses along your cheek playfully and switches to close-mouthed kisses, soft and tender, across your temple before looking down at you. Eyes hazy, half-lidded.
“May I, darling?”
Wordlessly, you nod, easily bashful from the piercing stare. He was nothing but direct, forward in what he wanted, needed. Something you’d come to admire greatly, his expressiveness - but God, if it didn’t have you shy, open and bare for all to see - you were sure he was well aware of the hold he had on you. You were freefalling every time, and you knew he’d catch you. He saw you.
With an affirmative hum, a silent thank you, he gently grasps around your wrist. Bringing it up to his lips, just barely brushing against them, he kisses along your pulse, chaste and sweet and his eyes gradually flutter shut, sighing. Teeth bare, your only warning is a lap of his tongue over supple skin, and he’s hooking his teeth deeply. The sensation of two sharp pin pricks, naturally has you flinching somewhat - something even now, you hadn’t become fully accustomed to.
Not that that was necessarily a bad thing; Astarion relished in the surprise every time (having gone into quite some detail on the matter), eagerly swallowing and tightening his hold around your wrist the moment you’d gasp.
Lips parted, you can’t help but rock your hips, being as subtle as you can; heat coiling and overflowing at the sight of such an intimate act. You couldn’t explain it, put it into words. Other than, being swallowed whole, being worshipped. Was this worship? Shifting your hips, you continue to ground down, bare sex and fluids smearing over his thigh - airy whines audible.
Yet, you can suddenly feel his gaze on you, a smile on his lips against your wrist. You can’t help it, shyness coming back in full force - averting your gaze immediately, conveniently towards the floor. But, his free hand rubs back and forth along your inner thigh, reassuringly. Fondness is ever present in his eyes.
(Let go for me, I’ve got you).
Eventually, he pulls away, unhooking his teeth and lapping at any blood sluggishly seeping out from the small wounds. Lips ruddy, fresh with blood. With a final kiss, Astarion sets your wrist back down once more back into your lap and toys with the stray hairs on the nape of your neck, a thumb brushing along the leather collar around your neck.
“Gods, you’re beautiful.”