arina.

he was in the same state now as he walked closer, his blue eyes wide, captivated by the way your skirts hitched just so as you moved, pupils dilated, the adrenaline from the fight still thrumming through his veins, woven in with the simmering yearning for you, for this moment.

"my princess," he breathed, chest heaving under his breastplate, grimy hands twitching, as if wanting to touch but not allowing himself to just yet. "have i pleased you?"

and oh, those words made your cunt flutter. so, so earnest, your sweet knight. so ready to seek your favor, even after having proven himself so valiantly on the field, bringing honor and renown to your house and your name, to you.

"yes, ser," you affirmed, smile softening as you watched dunk kneel between your parted thighs, broad shoulders keeping them spread. "you have pleased me greatly. i enjoyed watching you joust."

"yeah?" dunk's voice dipped, barely above a whisper, baby blues never leaving your face, memorizing every twitch and movement, wanting nothing more than to lose himself in the face of the woman who acclaimed him so readily.

"yeah," you parroted, one of your hands lifting to cup his cheek, thumb brushing over the dirt caked onto his skin, but you gave it no mind. you couldn't care less, not when dunk's lashes fluttered, and a sound akin to a wounded animal punched out of his chest, breath brushing your wrist.

he leaned into your touch like a man starved, pressing his gauntlet-clad palm onto yours to keep you there. watching him rub his cheek against your skin, nuzzling you with almost childlike eagerness, made warmth spread in your chest and throughout your body like simmering fire.

it was easy to bring dunk's face closer and press a soft kiss to his mouth, making another one of those delicious, aborted sounds fall from his bloody lips. you wanted the proof of his strength, the proof of his endurance onto you. seeing the red smeared across your skin, he shook his head, his other hand reaching out to brush the crimson away, but you stopped him gently, shaking your head.

"no, ser," you said. "let me have proof of your valiance, for you have suffered and bled for me today," a pause, as you guided his hand onto your skirts, right where the hem brushed your stocking-covered ankle. "and i wish to reward you."

a ragged breath left him as soon as his fingers brushed against your clothed skin, trembling; not from inhibition, but desperation. pure, unadulterated need to hike up your skirts and dive tongue first into your pussy like an animal without an owner. and gods, he wanted to.

has been thinking about it since he stepped foot onto the jousting field. even when he knew he had to focus on not being unhorsed, or tilting his spear right, or holding his shield up to block sword and mace alike. all he could think about was how good your cunt would smell, would taste once he was allowed to be between your legs again, once he deserved to feast at the altar of your sweetness, if the gods granted him victory. and they did, and yet—

"are you sure, my—"

"lift my skirts, ser duncan," you interrupted, thumb brushing his cheek anew, ceasing his delay. you knew what he wanted and understood why he was hesitating, even though you two had been in this same predicament plenty of times before.

after every prevailed joust, you offered duncan what he craved: a place between your thighs and unrestricted passage to your pussy. when he first asked for it, still green in his sexual desires, face almost as red as a freshly plucked strawberry, you were more than delighted to offer yourself over to him. after all, you had been waiting to get the knight into your bed since your father had assigned him to guard your every move. all those nights where you ordered him to stay vigilant as a sentinel at your door while you pleasured yourself loud enough for him to hear truly worked wonders. a siren song to an unassuming sailor.

"claim your prize, ser," you persisted, letting the pad of your thumb skim his bloody bottom lip, tugging it lightly, enough to bare his teeth to you, the sight of his crimson canines making the ache between your thighs mount. "you've kept me waiting long enough," you chided, eyes sharpening enough to watch the way his own widened, as if the mere thought of displeasing you brought a sense of urgency, weaving into the marrow of his bones and kicking his senses into obeying every single one of your whims.

he moved.

not fast enough to startle, but with the conviction of a man who stopped reigning in his heart's desire and started taking.

his broad, armored palms brushed against your ankles, bunching up your skirts and lifting the flurry of flowy fabric, letting the cold steel chill your clothed skin. he hoisted it up, up, until he gathered it at your waist, allowing him to have a good look at—

"princess—," he gasped, fingers tightening into your skirts, moments from tearing the material to shreds as feelings overwhelmed him, feeling more beast than man in the face of such a pretty picture.

you were bare.

no small clothes to cover your dignity, your pussy spread open and dripping, your hole throbbing around nothing, clenching shamelessly, as if urging him closer. calling to his cock or his fingers or his mouth to heel. and gods, dunk wanted nothing more than to answer.

the view was obscene. his broad shoulders and the hulk of his body kept you splayed open. thighs on each side of him allowed him to see every inch of the sweet reward he was given.

"pretty?"

your voice snapped him out of his reverie, barely able to drag his gaze away from the gorgeous spread of your cunt, blinking as his eyes met yours, feeling a ruddy flush creep up his neck as he saw the pleased curl of your lips as you watched him. he swallowed, nodding, so, so earnest, his armor shifting and clanking with the movement, making you let out a small laugh.

"a—always, my princess," dunk whispered, not being able to keep steady any longer, steel clad fingers curling into the lace band of your stockings and pulling, dragging the material down your thighs, using the grip to bring you closer to the edge of the bed along with it. "so bloody pretty," he praised, dipping his face until it was level with your mound and breathing you in, lashes fluttering at the tangy musk of your cunt.

his tongue darted out to taste without preamble, not being able to hold back, the scent of you intoxicating beyond measure, calling to him like a siren song. steel fingers dimpled the fat of your thighs as he brought you even closer, pressing your cunt against his face, muffling a deep, guttural groan into the heated, slick flesh, moving his head from side to side, unashamed, nuzzling into your pussy, face mushed into you, spreading your juices onto his nose, cheeks, and chin.

it made you moan, hands seeking the top of his head, fingers tangling into his dirty hair, tugging him even deeper against your heat, hips twitching, already meaning to grind against his face. "oh, my sweet knight," you lilted, breathy and airy as you felt the tip of his nose nudge your throbbing clit, the movement of his head granting you delicious friction. "always so eager, so good for me."

the words had the desired effect, feeling as another groan muted against your heat, dunk's tongue laving broad, firm strokes along your wet folds, spreading you open, lapping at every inch of your cunt like a dog would water. it felt divine. it always did.

dunk might not be versed in many things, but wielding a sword and eating pussy were two that he could boast about until the end of his days and would never fail to ring true.

"taste s' good, my princess, my lady," he moaned against you, head swiveling incessantly between your thighs, clumsy and eager and so, so good, creating a flurry of depraved, loud wet noises that made you flush.

your fingers tightened into his hair and pulled, tugging, eliciting more debauched sounds from him, before appeasing the slight sting you knew you caused, petting at his dirty strands as you cooed. "yeah? does it taste better than your victory, ser?"

perhaps it was a wicked, ungrateful question. but the way dunk nodded not even a moment after, baby blues half lidded as he looked up at you, tongue still licking between your folds, already pussy drunk and lax with pleasure, was more worth it than every gold coin in the seven kingdoms.

"won jus' to taste you, princess," he babbled, mouth drenched with a mixture of blood and your slick, the view making you moan as your eyes drifted down, seeing streaks of crimson along your cunt and inner thighs, from where dunk's blood marked you. gods, you couldn't help but throb and clench around nothing at the sight. having your sweet knight's spilled blood onto your skin, smeared onto your pussy, pleasure mixed with honor. the honor he fought so hard for today in the joust. "jus' to have her again."

you couldn't help the grind of your hips at his words, feeling the telltale sign of your peak beginning to build at the base of your spine, moans spilling freely from your lips, the sloppier dunk got, slobbering all over your cunt, tongue flicking against your clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking gently, cheeks hollowing.

"ser—," you gasped, broken and wanton, fingers tugging harder at his hair as your hips humped forward, greedy and twitching against the suction. "my good ser," the praise fell from your lips like a benediction, washing over dunk in waves, body warming up from the inside like a flame kindling.

he did not even realize his own hips ground forward, armor clinking louder as the fervor mounted, his clothed cock brushing against the bed frame as his mouth feasted on your cunt, hard as steel and leaking in his breeches and armor. but he did not care, not when you felt this heavenly, when the taste of you cloyed the back of his throat and invaded every sense. he pulled back just enough to see how the blood smeared all over your pussy and inner thighs, his eyes glazed over with heat. dunk loved the sight. loved that it was his blood. his pain. his proof of victory.

his tongue rolled around his mouth for a moment before he spat onto your pussy, letting saliva and blood drip down your folds obscenely, making his breath hitch noisily into his throat. it made you moan. his cock twitched in his breeches, hips grounding even harder against the bed, the depravity of it all making all the blood rush to his face, blush bleeding down to his throat.

"she's so wet f' me, my princess," he groaned, the sound ripped from his chest as he watched the crimson drip further. "so pretty."

the sight was enough for him to dive right in with renowned fervor, steel fingers gripping your thighs and pulling you harder against his face, aiding you to hump your hips against his mouth, drenching him in your juices.

it was too much. you have been wet since the joust. since you watched him barrelling into men left and right, knocking them down effortlessly, his size and broadness eclipsing any other knight on the field. the throbbing of your pussy never ceased as he fought so valiantly, only making you press your thighs together beneath your skirts and keeping in soft moans of wonder as you watched your sweet knight make his way to victory.

"duncan," you moaned, broken and high, feeling the thread about to snap, only getting a muffled moan in response to his name being spoken by you, fingers tugging at his hair, needing something to tether yourself to before shattering. "my sweet duncan, don't stop—"

"i got you, my princess," was muffled into your folds, his efforts doubling, feeling the way your thighs shook, his scalp stinging at the relentless way you held onto him, but he did not mind. he wanted you to use him. wanted you to always use him to feel good. "let me have it," he pleaded, tongue lapping at your throbbing clit, moving his head from side to side, the stimulation making a full body shake run through you. "please, princess, please—"

you were powerless to his pleading, to the way he looked between your thighs, eyes glazed, shining with so much devotion, your slick smeared all over the bottom of his face. gods, it was a sight that'll keep you awake and wound up for nights to come.

it unraveled you now, peak unfurling in the bottom of your tummy, gushing into dunk's mouth, crying out his name again and again as he continued to lap at the juices flowing against his chin, cheek and on his tongue, moaning like it was the nectar of the gods. "thank you," your sweet knight whimpered, panting into your pussy, his hips rutting faster and faster against the bed as he lapped up all of your slick. "thank you, princess, thank you, thank—"

the words broke off into a long, punched-out moan, a full-body tremor bowing his hulking frame forward as he followed suit, cumming in his breeches, dirtying the inside of his armor. his forehead pressed to the top of your mound, tongue lolling out to softly lick the remnants of what he couldn't prior, cleaning you, sated and boneless between your thighs.

your chest heaved with soft pants, watching him, gaze so achingly tender it could drizzle honey in its wake. the fingers that tugged at his hair gentled, petting soothingly, scraping at his scalp in slow, deliberate motions, making dunk hum in delight against you, leaning into your touch like a flower towards sunlight.

"thank you, my sweet ser," you whispered, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to his damp hairline, wanting him to know how grateful you are for him, getting a small, bashful smile in return as he turned towards your mouth, baby blues mirroring every feeling that resided inside your heart, making your chest ache.

your sweet knight. your sweet duncan. all yours.

he in turn holds you close, large hands settled on your waist — grip directing your winds and grinds over his aching cock. the inners of his thighs hook at the outers of your own, legs bent and pressure firm as if to keep you close, close as humanly possible with his lounged position against the headboard.

your grip intensifies around the lower of his face, and it's then your thumb and fingers dip further into the hollows of his — pressure making his lips part against yours. his breath is ragged against you, pants hot and desperate in a way that matches your own. 

you itch in slightly and brush your lips over his. though you don't connect them, instead they ghost his, mouth agape as he swallows the gasps he earns from you with each pump he fucks up into you with. each upward wind making you splutter on choked-out whines.

with your mouths merely connecting, you swipe your tongue over his bottom lip and then nip at it, latching on lightly. you hold it between either set of your teeth, tugging on it with the most gentle of pressure. he chuckles, noise low and lewd while his pawing tightens around your waist, his grasp growing with extremity. desperate hold guiding you down on onto the cock he dicks up inside you.

you release your toothed hold from his bottom lip and press a kiss to where you had momentarily bitten into, giving him something slightly sweet and heartfelt. though your kisses drift from his bottom lip and teeter outwards, reaching his cheek. pointing your tongue, you trace over his scar — trailing the joined fusion of skin. haste non-existent.

but that's short lived and you soon feel absence grow around your upper hips. 

instead, he places them around your neck, one on the side, one nearing the back as he directs you to meet his eyes once more. he's mindful as he tugs you, thick fingers encompassing the base of your throat like it was no effort at all. he lowers you down, making you meet his lips so he can speak against them. 

"you're my dream girl," he utters, voice low and gruff. it sounded honest. or as honest as you believe dex to be capable of.

"yeah?" you hum, smiling against his lips.

the hand around the back of your neck itches upwards, fingers swirling at the root of your hair at the base of your neck. and it's then that he gives it a considerate tug. his hold like an effort to keep you close, to keep you right there.

"yeah," dex affirms, eyes cast up at you — gaze heavy and wanting. He nips at his own lip, it's like a redirectional effort for the slipping self-control, you believe.

his hands snake from their placement and pause at the either side of your face, grasp encompassing your head within two of his very thick hands. he retains your position and itches up to meet your lips; the connection rough and sort of desperate as deep breaths muffle between from either one of you.

your winds grind to a gradual halt when you feel dex's hips still beneath you, the motion of his upward fucking ceasing completely. you pull back to look over him, like it was to question the reasoning for such a sudden stop. though by the time you're able to figure out what his expression meant, he's pushing you backwards, grip firm on you as he repositions with you — cock still plugged inside you. 

he lays you down, pushing you back just under 180 degrees so the position you're each in is the same, only reversed. he's on top, like how you were only a mere moment ago.

his hands have since retracted from the sides of your face and one instead finds itself anchoring your pinned wrists into the mattress, his hold keeping your interlocked pinkies above your head. though the other has situated itself at the top of your throat, just under your jaw. he angles your face, making you look him in the eye as he rebuilds the pattern of thrusts from before. each one grows, and a system of deep and equally strategic pumps fall into place. 

dex keeps his eyes cast down on you below, gaze focusing on your growing fucked-out expression — the one that he's a direct cause of. and it's then that he nods down at you, encouragement building across his features as he gives your lower cheek a few light taps. ones that were again, some means of encouragement.

his thumb slips aside and reaches for your mouth, and it's there that he hooks onto your bottom lip, tugging on it slightly so as to keep your gasping mouth agape. he leans in nice and close, lips brushing past yours as he spits between them, laying saliva on your tongue for you to swallow. 

"attagirl," he coos against your parted lips, eyes as smitten as he can manage. "attagirl."