Astarion's treat, Sylus's kitten ♡

Caleb shot you an offended look before cutting into his steak again. He'd finally stopped grumbling about the menu and settled into actually eating, looking far more relaxed than he had when you'd first arrived. His tie was loosened slightly, his sleeves rolled up just enough to expose his forearms, and for the first time all evening he seemed content to sit back and enjoy himself.

Which, in hindsight, was probably why your timing was so terrible.

You watched him take another bite before the thought that had been circling your head for weeks slipped out before you could overthink it.

"I want to stop using condoms."

His reaction was immediate.

The fork slipped from his hand and struck the edge of his plate with a loud metallic clang. A streak of dark sauce splattered across the front of his shirt as he coughed violently.

A waiter froze halfway across the room.

An elderly woman nearby nearly choked on her wine.

For a few horrible seconds, the only sound in the restaurant was Caleb trying not to die.

You covered your face. "Oh my God."

"Would you like to repeat that?"

"Maybe after you recover."

Caleb looked down at the stain spreading across his expensive shirt and then back at you, disbelief written all over his face.

"Do you know how many opportunities you had to bring this up today?"

"No?"

"There was breakfast," he continued. "There was lunch. There was the drive here. There was the entire first half of dinner, and you waited until I had my mouth full of food?."

"I didn't plan it."

"You looked across this table, saw me actively chewing, and thought, yes, this seems like the ideal moment for a life changing conversation."

The more serious he tried to sound, the harder it became not to laugh. His composure wasn't holding up much better, a faint flush had climbed all the way to the tips of his ears, and every time he glanced at you it got worse.

"You're serious." It wasn't a question.

You nodded.

"You've thought about it."

"A lot."

His shoulders eased and something in his expression softened so completely it made your chest ache.

"This is embarrassing to admit now, but I actually had a whole conversation planned for this."

Your eyes widened. "A conversation?"

"A very good one. It had structure..."

"Oh no."

"It had bullet points."

You burst out laughing while he groaned and dropped his head into one hand. "Don't laugh."

"You made bullet points?"

His smile finally broke through and the sight of it made your laughter fade into something gentler.

"You're telling me you see a future with me and that's more than enough for me right now"

Silence stretched comfortably between you until a waiter appeared beside the table carrying a clean napkin.

The man glanced at Caleb's stained shirt, then at the two of you holding hands, clearly unsure of what he'd interrupted.

"Sir," he said cautiously, "would you like some assistance with the stain?"

Caleb looked down at the mess on his shirt again, looked back at you, and let out a long sigh.

"Do you have anything for emotional shock?"

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Caleb was the kind of man who brought home the exact chocolates you liked from the store near the station, who tucked your stray hairs behind your ear with a thumb so gentle it felt like an apology. He loved you with the cleanest, lightest parts of his soul.

But that Caleb stayed outside when your front door thudded shut behind you.

The man who moved you against the wall was heavier. Darker. His hands locked onto your hips with bruising leverage that shoved your lower back flush against the plaster. His breathing was uneven, smelling of the dry red wine he’d barely touched before you threw that sentence across the restaurant table.

"You don't get to say things like that out there" your knees shook, the silk of your dress bunching up around your thighs as his fingers tore at the fabric "You don't get to put those images in my head while I'm trapped in a room full of strangers and then expect me to hold back." you were trembling, and he looked down at the tremor in your thighs with cold satisfaction. A quieter shadow had taken him over—the part of him that didn't know how to possess you without wanting to ruin you. He’d been holding that part back for years, keeping it chained behind soft words and careful boundaries.

Now, the chain was gone.

He dropped his trousers, hooked his forearm under your left knee, hoisting your leg high over his hip, and drove himself inside you.

The entry was dry enough to sting, a stretching heat that caught the breath in your throat. You let out a small, fractured sound, your fingers clawing at the rough wool of his jacket, looking for the Caleb who always asked if you were okay.

This version didn't ask. He gripped the back of your skull, his fingers tangling in your hair to hold your head still, and buried his mouth over yours to catch the noises you were making. He tasted like wine and years of starvation.

His hips slammed forward in a brutal rhythm that used the wall behind you as support. Every time he went deep, the heel of his palm pressed harder into your hip bone, keeping you pinned, making sure you took the full length of his cock.

"Look at you," he rasped against your lips, his teeth grazing the tip of your tongue before he pulled back just far enough to look into your eyes. "Taking my cock so well"

He lifted your other leg until you were entirely dependent on his strength to stay off the floor. The tip of his dick, in one unyielding thrust that went past the usual limits, pushed hard against your cervix.

​"Caleb—wait," you cried out, your fingers tearing two buttons from his shirt as your head banged lightly against the plaster. " 'S too deep, baby. Ah, god..."

"How do you expect me to breed this tight little pussy, uh?" he leaned his full weight into you, pinning you immovably against the wall as his breath came hot against your ear. "I need to reach that spot so it takes."

To prove his point, he withdrew slowly, leaving you empty before bottoming out inside you again, harder this time. "Take it," he whispered, burying his face into the crook of your neck where he bit the soft skin over your collarbone. "Stay right here and take it."

He was turning your thighs into a collection of dark, finger shaped bruises as his control fractured under the tight clenches of your body.

The weight of his body, combined with the deep thrusts of his cock against your womb, broke something open inside you. Your walls spasmed, clamping down on him with an involuntary tightness.

That tight clench broke him. He let out a ragged groan, thrusting into you so hard the frame of the hallway mirror rattled. His whole body going rigid as he started to come.

​But while his lower body held you trapped his hands softened. His fingers moved to cradle your face and he pressed his lips to your forehead.

​The kiss was remarkably soft, tender and lingering— just the way he kissed you when you wake up on Sunday mornings. Below your waist, he was ruining you, his cock twitching and pumping you full of his cum. Against your skin, his lips were gentle, brushing over your damp hairline while he whispered "You're going to hold every single drop of me inside you tonight..."

​He pressed another soft kiss between your eyebrows, his chest heaving as the final pulses shuddered through him "Think I can get you pregnant by morning?"