Chapter Text
The halls are dim as you slip through the corridors, your anticipation lending wings to your silk-slippered feet.
Three nights, he had said. Three nights too long without the other’s touch, and by the gods do you long for him now.
Your heart drums deafeningly in your chest, drowning out your quiet tapping upon his door, it seems; it is a wonder the whole wing does not echo to its din.
The door opens at last. You are yanked in, hard, and pushed back against the wood, your lover’s mouth swallowing your shrill of surprise before you can so much as gather your bearings. A loud banging resounds somewhere in the distance as you keenly melt into Eren’s kiss with a moan, arms coming up to wrap around his broad, bare shoulders.
“Someone’s eager,” you say breathlessly, surfacing and giggling as he presses his lips down the hinge of your jaw to your neck.
“Three nights,” he reminds you, voice so deep it sends further shivers down your spine. “I haven’t had you in three long nights.” He pulls back, reluctantly, grudgingly, just enough to slip his large hands under the open edges of your robe so he can slide it off your shoulders. You release your hold around his neck, as averse as he is to part even for just a moment, but do so all the same to shrug the garment off.
Your arms wrap around him once more before the cloth can touch the floor, the sheer bronze silk pooling around your ankles as you tilt your head up and open your mouth for his kiss. His tongue is sweet against yours, insistent; the strap of your nightgown falls down your shoulder, and you feel him knead at the curve of your hip, bunching up your dress a little as he does so.
"Gods, I want you," he murmurs, breaking the kiss to nip at your earlobe. His hands steal up your gown, rough, calloused fingers dragging up your legs and lifting your skirt to your hips. “Oh, you are a wicked little thing,” he laughs low in your ear, as his hands skim over what should be the linen barrier of your smallclothes, only to find more smooth, bare skin.
You titter, wicked as he claims. “No use putting on something that’s meant to be taken off.”
He growls at that and tightens his grip on your thigh, wrapping it around his waist and grinding his rapidly hardening cock against your bare cunt. You gasp, head falling back against the door and baring your throat to his ravenous mouth. He feels incredible against you; the cloth of his pants brushes your clit deliciously with each rough thrust, and you grow wetter and wetter with every pass, more insatiable, more eager for him. Eren, Eren, Eren.
And suddenly, your other leg is around him all at once, your ankles crossed upon the small of his back, and he is turning, walking quickly back to his bed with you in his arms.
Cupping his face in your hands, you kiss him once more, needing to taste, to relish and revel in his savor. You have not had the pleasure in three nights, after all, it is only fair, only right to take your fill of him, to only want more, more, more.
You yelp into his mouth as he drops onto his mattress, the force of his movement driving him harder between your legs. Desperation rides him strong, guiding his every act. It makes him wrench your nightgown down to your waist, almost tearing the white linen in the process, makes him bite none too gently at your nipple, makes you cry out at the painful pleasure of the sting and the hot, wet, soothing lap of his tongue afterward.
He is everywhere at once, his lips, his hands, bearing down on you like a great wave off the coast of the sea, and it is overwhelming in the best way possible. His patience, already in short abundance most every time, is growing ever thinner, you can see even through the haze of lust he has coaxed from you.
Eren presses a kiss to your stomach, grabbing your hips as he does so. You lift them obligingly, never needing to hear him speak the words, attuned as you are to his wants, and your nightgown slides down your body to be tossed aside without a second thought.
A sense of stillness besets him then, as though the sight of your nakedness has driven him to repose and awe. For that is what you feel as well as you lay there looking at this lover of yours kneeling between your spread legs, hands gently, idly caressing your skin, up, down, and back again, lulling you further into a heated trance.
The way the hearthflames frame his form is breathtaking, drawing your eyes to the broadness of his shoulders and the narrow shape of his waist. The fire limns him with gold, gilding his bare skin, and now you lay before a god, an ethereal being, a golden man.
You have never seen anything half so beautiful.
His hands leave you to unlace his dark trousers, and your breath catches in your throat. You clutch at his sheets, feeling your anticipation rise as he draws his cock out and gives it a couple of strokes. He is thick, heavy, lusciously veined, the flared red tip weeping with his arousal. Wetness drips down your cunt at the sight.
He leans down to kiss you, slower this time, not bothering to rid himself of his only garment. Still, there is a hint of his earlier desperation in the way his mouth moves over yours. You can taste it in his tongue as it slips past your lips, feel it in the way his hands sweep over your body, hear it in his hard, breathless pants as he reaches between you to take his cock in hand and press its leaking head to your soaked sex.
Yes, more, more, more.
Your arms wind tight around him, your fingers burying themselves in his hair, and your moan mingles with his as his hips surge forward. His grip on your hips is unyielding, keeping you still as his cock sinks into you in one long continuous pass.
You let out a shuddering gasp, eyes falling closed and head lolling back against the mattress once he has sheathed himself to the hilt in you and stills. You have not realized just how much you miss this fullness and the feel of his hot, hard length inside you. His quick, ragged breaths warm your shoulder, trembles racking his muscled frame every few heartbeats as though desperately reeling himself in from reaching his pleasure too soon.
“Gods, I missed this,” he says hoarsely, mouthing at your neck and shoulder and rubbing his thumbs in soothing circles on your hips, giving you that much-needed lull to reacquaint your body to his considerable measure.
You laugh softly. “It’s only been three nights.” Three long, cold, lonely nights.
“Too long to be without this,” his sudden thrust forces a cry from you, and all at once he is moving, sharp, rapid rolls of his hips that has him dragging exquisitely against your walls and hitting several spots inside that make you sob your pleasure into the seclusion of his chambers.
His mouth crashes into yours once more and you whimper; your hands run through his hair and down his back, his muscles taut and skin hot - burning, almost burning - beneath your fingertips. The way the rough thatch of hair at the base of his cock brushes your clit with each thrust is almost enough to undo you, yet you want more.
You pull him closer, so much closer, as if trying to take his very being into yourself, until who has the cock and who the cunt ceases to matter. You arch up against him, wanton and shameless, to meet his every thrust and listen to him voice out his own pleasure on your skin.
Through the hundred-year fog of your ecstasy, you feel him move off of you. You will your eyes open and are only partly successful, meeting his smoldering emerald gaze through half-shuttered eyelids. Beautiful, so beautiful. Nothing else matters to you at that moment as you stare up at your lover and intended husband, watching the sweat gleam off his skin, watching the play of pleasure flit across his face as he thrusts madly into you, hands tight around your thighs to keep you spread open for him.
“Gods, you feel so good,” he hisses, head falling back as he groans, long and low. What little light there is traces over every line and dip and ridge of his body, and it is mesmerizing. He is never more beautiful than in the throes of passion. And passion is something he has never lacked for.
He tugs at your leg then, pulling it up to wrap around his waist and hauling you closer, and you moan, body curving from the bed and clawing trembling fingers against the sheets at the hard flare of pleasure that assails you at this change of angle. Eren bends down to run lips and tongue and teeth across the skin of your throat, and the way his cock pounds into you - strong, incessant - brings you barreling ever closer to your much longed-for peak.
You clench tight around him, forcing a choked-off moan from his throat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasps, panting against your neck as his once-steady pace begins to unravel, his hips jerking almost erratically between your legs as his own climax approaches. He reaches between your coupled bodies and presses long, calloused fingers on the nub above where he entered you.
“Ah- hah-!”
Whines and cries spill from your mouth as he rubs at your clit, quick, hard circles that match his pace, and all too soon his name is falling from your tongue to join your other sounds of ecstasy.
"E-Eren, Eren, ah, Eren!"
A wave of pleasure crashes over you, more powerful than any that came before, and you are washed away, drowning in heat, and rapture, and Eren.
It seems a thousand years before you eventually emerge from passion’s depths only to be swept along in the current of his own pleasure as he continues to pound wildly, frantically into you, grunting loudly into your ear, until he reaches his peak at last. His seed spills into you, warm and thick, and you shudder at the almost painful prolonging of your peak yet make no move to push him away.
Your arms tighten around him, fingers digging into his shoulder; his thrusts slow to a stop, and his chest heaves atop yours as he struggles to catch his breath, lips brushing feather-light strokes on your neck and cheek before pressing against yours in a kiss gentler than any he has bestowed upon you this night.
Slowly, you open your eyes once you part, heart still thrumming inside the cage of your ribs and mouth tingling with the taste of him. You feel the press of his mouth between your breasts and bite back a whimper as he slips his softening cock out of you, a trickle of your mingled fluids leaking after him and dripping slowly down to pool on his sheets.
You turn to your side as Eren stands from the bed, movements measured and deliberate as he strives to fight through the lingering mist of his pleasure. You watch him pad into his private bath, admiring the play of the hearth’s golden light against the muscled expanse of his back. He really is a well-made man, you think, burrowing your face into his sheets and closing your eyes a moment to take in the scent of him still clinging to the linens, warm, comforting, familiar…
The mattress dips under you, drawing you back to consciousness. You must have dozed off, you realize, a little dazed as you turn to lay on your back once more and meet your betrothed’s slightly widened eyes as he freezes in the act of climbing into bed with you. He finally shed his pants, you note, gaze roaming appreciatively over his naked body, cut and chiseled and magnificent.
“O-oh, did I wake you? Sorry,” he says sheepishly, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, a most endearing habit of his that often manifests whenever he feels embarrassed or discomfited. It is amusing to think that this stuttering boy is the very same one who had so eagerly ravished you earlier this night.
You smile up at him, all fondness and endearment. “No, it’s all right. I do have to head back,” you murmur, a hint of the imp tainting your smile as you begin your well-worn lovers’ song and dance.
The abashed look on his face vanishes at once. “This song again,” he mutters, turning to grab something on the dresser beside his bed before heaving himself up onto the mattress. You spread your legs reflexively to allow him room to settle between your thighs, moving up a ways to prop yourself up on his pillows as you do so. He follows, kneeling between your legs and gently swiping the damp cloth in his hand up your cunt to clean away the vestiges of your erstwhile loving.
Your thumb strokes the wrist of the hand that is holding your leg open as you gaze up at him quietly, marveling at this tender boy who will be your husband. You truly are so lucky in him, you think for the umpteenth time, chest tight with love and affection and regard. You cannot have asked for a better husband, will not want any other, not for anything in the world.
His eyes rise to meet yours once he is done and he smiles, that delightful quirk of his mouth that makes his eyes come alive so beautifully. He tosses the used cloth carelessly toward his dresser, where it lands in its pewter basin with a soft plop and a spray of water that slops all over the wooden counter and the floor.
“You’ve made a mess,” you chide, laughing as he lays himself down atop your prone form, his body warm and heavy but not unbearably so. You tug at the ends of his dark hair; it has grown longer now, almost to his shoulders, making him look older and a good deal comelier. It suits him well.
Something roguish flashes across his eyes. “I just cleaned it up, though,” he smirks, giggling at your feigned scandalized gasp as he kisses the space between your breasts, right above your heart. “But I believe you mentioned something about heading back? We both know how this dance goes, love. You hem and haw about going back but it’ll still end with you warming my bed.” He frowns at you, bottom lip pouting out childishly. “I never put up this much fuss when I warm your bed.”
“A lady must hem and haw and demur when a lusty young man attempts to tempt her into succumbing to her baser desires.” You press your own kiss to his smiling lips.
“Never mind that the lady has already succumbed to her baser desires most enthusiastically. Several times over.”
You snort. “She has to be seen to try to demur, at least. And you can’t tell me you take no pleasure from our little game. I do believe you enjoy persuading me to stay the nights.” You pat him lightly on the cheek before making to sit up. He stays put, putting as much of his weight as he can on your body without crushing you outright. You give him a look. “I really do have to go, Eren. I have to break my fast with the family. Mother’s insisting.”
“That’s a new one.” He nuzzles at your throat, kissing your neck and shoulder, and cupping your breasts in his large hands. “You’re right, I do enjoy persuading you to stay,” he murmurs, voice low as his fingers toy with your nipples, rubbing and squeezing between coarse pads, and you let out a gasp, sinking back into his goose-down pillows as your head falls limply back. Your arm comes up to hold him close as slick begins to seep down your cunt again, adding to your mingled spend still coating the walls of your sex, where it lay out of reach of his earlier ministrations.
Heat simmers once more under your skin, beguiling and insistent. It is all you can do to recall the threads of your discussion, and his gentle suckling on your breasts is not helping matters. “B-but I do have to go. I have to be up early and it won’t do for them to come upon my empty bed.” You really ought to have had him come to you instead… yet does it truly matter? You sigh as he kisses your stomach, running your hands through his soft hair. “Hmm, imagine the storm they’ll wring over our heads if they learn we’ve decided to… forego the wedding in favor of the wedding night.”
Eren laughs against your skin. “Why delay the inevitable?” He looks up at you then, mirth giving way to the smallest hint of trepidation. “Speaking of delaying the inevitable…”
“Goodwife Xenia still keeps me well-tended.” As she does half the women of the city looking to uproot their sins. There will be time enough for Jaeger seed to take root in Rhyzkov ground, and this is not it. If you are to put off anything until the wedding, it will be that.
Relief replaces his trepidation. “Good, that’s good,” he says, and something carnal and more sensual takes his handsome visage over as he inches down the bed and settles himself between your thighs, resting on his stomach. Eren throws your legs over his shoulders and grabs them tight, treating you to one of your most favorite sights in the world. He never looks better anywhere than in between your legs.
“You are insatiable.” Your fingers rise to tangle in his hair.
His grin is sharp, feral. “Only for you.” He places a kiss low upon your stomach before proceeding lower, hovering his mouth - that sweet, skillful, seductive mouth - right above your soaking cunt. The heat of his breath spilling onto your most intimate of parts makes you shiver and raises gooseflesh all over your body. “I’ll play your game. Let’s see if I can’t persuade you to stay the night, family breakfast be damned,” he hums, parting your lower lips with his fingers and plunging in.
A startled moan tears from your mouth, your grip on his hair tightening as your back arches from the bed at the sudden pleasure of having his tongue lave long, hard strokes over your cunt, from your entrance to your clit. It is as though he is determined to have you reach your peak in the shortest time possible, it seems to you as your whimper erupts into a yelp at the sensation of his tongue dipping into your hot, wet opening.
You slap a hand over your mouth, bewildered and astonished by the sounds that escape you as his tongue (gods, that glorious tongue) licks in and out and over you , never imagining you are capable of producing those.
“Hmm, no, I want to hear you,” Eren admonishes you, voice low and deep, reaching up to tug your hand away from your face and bringing it down to your side, his fingers locking hard around your wrist. He dives back into your wetness with little warning, and the scream that rips from you then claws at your throat, rendering you hoarse. One hand near yanks the hair from his head, the other jerking in his hold, and his fingers dig in further, effectively anchoring you to him.
He devours you with a groan, as a man with a desperate thirst drains the cool, fresh waters of an oasis after having spent untold time wandering the desert wastes. You squirm beneath his grip, breath hitching at the rush of your climax coming ever closer, and sob as his fingers join his mouth in its assault on your heat. Both hands are now buried in his dark head, and your hips roll up to meet his tongue as the slick, wet muscle thrusts in and out of your sopping hole while his fingers play and rub at your clit.
“Come on, love, give it to me,” he rasps against you, panting as though he is the one close to coming apart under your attentions. He rubs faster, lapping up your seeping slick as you whine, legs spasming around him. “That’s it, you’re so close, give it to me…”
Incapable as you are of resisting your lover’s appeals, your body reaches its pleasure at last. You moan his name into the stillness of his rooms, grinding yourself against him until your climax finally runs its course.
That familiar haze of sated passion descends upon you once more as you relax your grip on his hair. Dimly, you feel him climb up your body and settle atop you. Something hard prods at your still sodden entrance, making you open your eyes to meet his. The beautiful emerald of his gaze has been transmuted into dark, enchanting onyx, so black that for a moment it is as if you will hurtle into its depths and be lost in him forevermore.
Slowly, he bends to capture your lips, and the spell is broken. Slowly, he eases himself into you for the second time that night, and you moan soft and hushed as he slowly starts to rock his hips between your thighs, once more stoking the banked flames of your desire.
You hold onto his strong, powerful arms as he surges into your depths, pace still sedate, unhurried. He is in rare form at present, though you know that will not last, not with this boy, not with this lover of yours.
Eren presses his face to the crook of your neck, moaning your name deep into your ear, and you let out a silent gasp, head tilting back into the pillows as he lifts your hips so he can push in deeper. He moves his head closer to yours, giving you his cheek; your lips feather across his heated skin down to his jaw, his ragged breaths loud in your ear as his fingers begin to tense around your hips. Slowly, his thrusts pick up speed until he is rutting into you in earnest.
A soft cry escapes you as he pulls out abruptly, your confusion melting into surprise as he turns you over to your stomach and wedges his knees between your legs to keep you spread open for him. You grab at the sheets, panting and expectant, and moan lustily as he shoves his cock back into you all at once and continues his rut, rough and heedless and blind to all but raw pleasure.
“O-oh, gods,” you whimper, your face pressing against the linens as his cock pumps frenziedly into the very heart of you. You are so wet you can feel your own slick sliding down your thighs, and the wet, squelching sounds of your coupling combined with the harsh slaps of skin on skin and both of your pleasured noises have you winging closer and closer to your third climax of the night.
Eren bears down on you until his broad chest is pressed to your back, his thrusts fitful and unsteady as he bulls toward his own peak. A shrill but muted scream bursts from your mouth when you feel him reach around you to roll and twirl your clit with his fingers, and soon enough you are shattering underneath him, mewling and wailing your ecstasy into the sheets.
His grip on you turns bruising then and Eren whimpers, his hips grinding and rutting against your rear as he lifts your hips to meet his thrusts until he peaks at last with a groan, his hot spend spurting deep and leaking down between your trembling legs.
Panting gasps and deep breaths fill the otherwise silent chambers as the two of you struggle to regain your bearings. You weakly push up an elbow, attempting to dislodge your heavily muscular betrothed from your body, and he obliges, pulling out of you and flopping to his side next to you with a quick exhale of air.
Somehow, somewhere, he finds the cheek to grin at you pertly as he brushes your tousled hair off of your hot, sweating face.
“So… will you stay the night?”