I Write Sins & Tragedies

Leaning in close, Berkut let his free hand drift to her chest. His knuckles softly traced the heavy curve of her breast and he poised himself about to kiss her, but paused, watching how her eyelids danced briefly before opening. She was already blushing.

“B-Berkut?” Rinea whispered, blinking herself back into awareness. “Wha--”

“You know, you’re quite lucky we don’t use personal servants, or who knows what sight you could have given the valet,” he chuckled, his voice low and deep in the back of his throat.

She smiled sheepishly and moved to bump her nose against his before pecking his lips. “I fell asleep, didn’t I?”

“Seems so.”

She patted his shoulder and leaned forward to kiss his cheek next. “Silly me. I should get dressed. What time is it?”

Berkut chuckled again but he didn’t move. He stayed perched over her, leaning in closer to nudge her back amongst the pillows. “You still have time before dinner~”

He felt her cheeks grow warmer as his hand’s caress traveled lower and cupped against her waist, squeezed appraisingly at her hip, and followed the inward curve of her thigh. 

“My love,” she whispered. “You don’t have any meetings?”

“You are the only thing on my schedule for the rest of the evening.”

She smiled and let her hand slip upward and into his hair. She petted through his thick, dark hair. That was her consent. It was one of the many quiet ways that Rinea expressed her want for him. He had been studying them since their honeymoon, memorizing the way she sighed and how she reached for him. She was a language all her own, in many ways, and he cherished being fluent.

Berkut’s lips fell to her throat, letting his adoration roam over her hummingbird pulse. She gasped, like she usually did when he kissed her neck, and her other and pressed against his back, grasping gently at the loose muslin of his shirt. He smiled against her skin and trailed his kisses lower. One at the hollow of her collarbone. Two between her breasts. Another on her stomach.

The lower he got, the more he observed her tensing in slight anticipation. He drifted further from the reach of her arms and he couldn’t help the deep chuckle he gave when he kissed below her belly button and saw her abdomen suck inward-- hypersensitive and shying from him.

“Is my queen nervous~?” he purred, turning his head and lifting one of her legs so he could kiss the alabaster cashmere of her inner thigh. 

The first time he’d called her his queen, Rinea had protested. She had never cared about royal titles, and she didn’t want him to associate their marriage with the past. But she had warmed up to it when Berkut explained that he didn’t call her such out of some long-lingering aspiration.

It was because, in his eyes, she would always be the queen of his heart.

“I think I’m still dreaming,” she said with a breathy giggle. 

“Then I’d better make sure it’s a good one.”

Berkut’s lips trailed upwards now, following the warm of her leg to the juncture between her hips. He brushed the bridge of his nose over short, course curls before he parted his lips to lay a forceful open-mouthed kiss against her labia. Rinea gasped again and he felt a slight tug from the bedsheets beneath him. Her hands were clutching at her sides, clutching the fabric as her eyes fell shut again.

Whatever Gods still remained in this world had surely blessed him.

He pulled inward, drawing bloodflow and heat down to him and he could tell that Rinea was biting her lip in an attempt to stifle her own moaning. It was a horrible habit, in his mind. He always wanted to hear her.

With a gentle insistence, Berkut reached out and found one of her wrists. He tugged it from the bedding and instead guided her hand back into the thick forest of his hair.

“Hold onto me,” he instructed, his voice deep and lips still brushing against her center with each word. “Guide me, if you must.”

“But you do so well,” she blurted in a flush. “I couldn’t...”

He chuckled and flickered his gaze upward, catching her pale blue irises between and behind the landscape of her figure. “You can. And you will.” It took a bit of coaxing to make her bold, but as he drew his tongue over her in a long, languid stroke, her fingers curled around his hair, pulling him just a little bit closer.

He slid his hands along her thighs, pulling them further apart and hooking one of her legs over his shoulder. He held her knee in one palm and her hip in the other, gripping her firmly and let his teeth graze against her as he teased back her clitoral hood. Rinea moaned openly in response. He was proud of her for not muffling herself this time.

As the ministrations continued, Rinea’s voice grew hitched and pleading. She tugged at his hair, trying to pull him closer with each lick and nip. He paid loving attention to each layer of her folds, suckling her mounds until they were swollen and ripe on his tongue. 

Rinea was breathless by the time he had worked his way back to attend her clitoris, and he could feel her lower back arching, trying to press against him. “B-Berkut! Oh-- Please--”

He loved the way she begged when she was aroused. Never for anything specific, but simply because she knew no other way to express her need. It was delightfully endearing and dreadfully erotic. It tightened the cord at the front of his britches to an almost painful tension and made him squeeze her hip tighter. He pulled her roughly against him, teeth worrying at her sensitive peak to make her cry out his name again.

It was a silent command delivered efficiently. Say my name.

“Berkut!”

Use my title.

“My Lord--!”

Tell me that you’re mine.

“Oh~ I love you, Berkut!”

That counts.

He kept a steady rhythm of sucking her core as he felt her body clench and writhe in his grasp. He caressed her knee and thigh lovingly, stroking up and down her leg as if to soothe her through her pulsing orgasm. Rinea whimpered as she throbbed. The hand she had in his hair loosened and flattened against his scalp, gently petting his midnight locks back into place. 

His eyes flickered up to her again as he slowly licked her once more and lifted his head. He let go of her hip, realizing that he’d gripped her a bit too strongly and left small red marks where the pads of each fingertip had pressed into her. He kissed where his thumb had dug into her then propped his chin up on the heel of his hand, looking over his wife in the afterglow of her rapture. All of that sugared cream skin had turned to strawberry meringue. Softly pink and worked into an airy tizzy.

“You are gorgeous,” he murmured. “When you’re freshly aroused.”

That only made her flush more. “My Lord, please.”

“Ooo~ begging again, are we?” he smirked. Sometimes his wife made it too easy.

She flushed a darker shade. Maybe more of a raspberry meringue.

“Berkut,” this time her voice was ever so slightly chiding and he chuckled at her, one hand still gently stroking her thigh.

“My apologies, love. I won’t tease. Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Well... I wasn’t expecting that, but yes. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” he corrected, turning his head to kiss the inner side of her knee. “It was truly my pleasure.”

Rinea hesitated a moment, still reclined amongst the plush pillows of their bed. “Does that mean there won’t be more?”

“ Expecting me?” she asked as she came to stand beside him in the windowsill. 

Saber shrugged. “Been a while, commander.”

“...Yeah,” she looked out the window. The city lit up at night, with taverns and theaters and the subtle buzz of activity. “How’ve you been?”

“Gettin’ by. It’s a new world out there, and I’ve got friends in high places now. Makes things easier,” he said. “How about yourself?”

Mathilda hesitated. She'd been fine, in most ways. She was the leader of the Deliverance now, carrying on where the fallen could not. Her sisters were doing well. One of them had gotten married a few months ago.

“Lonely,” she said. It wasn’t something she’d planned to admit, but it hung in the air between them.

Saber glanced at her, and he didn’t see her any weaker for having said it. She appreciated that about him. Even though Mathilda didn’t know the man well, he was rugged and he was worldly and he didn’t think any less of her for needing human contact.

“I can help with that,” he offered.

He reached out as she moved in, and Saber’s hand slid beneath the slit in her gambeson, right over her hips to settle on the well-toned ass of a cavalier. He could appreciate a woman with powerful thighs.

In return, Mathilda grabbed his tunic collar and pulled him against her, lips crashing together. It was like sparring. They grabbed at each other with fire and stumbled towards the bed through kisses and hurried fumbling out of their clothes. Mathilda unclasped his belt and tossed it to the floor, pulling Saber’s tunic over his head. He only had time to unlace her britches before she pushed him back onto the mattress.

“Demanding as ever, commander,” he said with a lopsided smirk. 

Mathilda chuckled as she pulled her gambeson and tunic off together in one swift motion. Her stays were short, ending right before her waist and holding her breasts together tightly. They were tied together in a bow and it was perhaps the only thing she wore which was even remotely feminine. Saber savored the glimpse at her softer side.

“C’mere,” Saber said with a tilt of his head. “You’re fantastic.”

She wasn’t blushing, exactly, but there was a dusting of color in her cheeks. Saber knew that there was a distinct chance she hadn’t had any intimacy since him last year. The people she worked with, the place she worked in, was surrounded by grief and history. 

But he knew how to appreciate a woman.

Mathilda quickly unbuttoned her britches and kicked them off with her boots. She perched over him, her knees on either side of his legs. He sat up and smirked at her, his eye glinting with desire. She was all chiseled, smooth skin. Curves and carved stone.

Scars riddled both of their bodies. Scattered souveniers of battles they’d survived. Mathilda didn’t pay special attention his, but she seemed to handle them tenderly as her palms flattened over his chest. 

Saber’s fingers plucked at the little bow that held closed her stays.

“You wanna stay all night?” he offered, pulling the strings loose. 

“I was considering it. But don’t you have to pack up in the morning?”

Saber slipped his index finger down her cleavage-- she had marvelous tits-- and he pulled the ties out of each eyelet, one by one unlacing the contraption that kept her bound. “Nah. I’m sticking around for a while, actually. I’m a little road weary.”

“...How long are you staying?” she asked, one of her rough hands coming to cup the back of his neck. 

“Haven’t decided yet,” he pulled out another pair of eyelets. “Want me to pay you a visit, commander? I can always make a house call.”

“Let’s finish what we have here first,” she said, and Saber wasn’t sure if her voice sounded shaky or not. He pulled out the last of the lacing out. He sighed in admiration at her breasts as they came free. 

“Stunnin’.”

Mathilda pulled him forward by the back of his neck, leading him to her bosom. It was exactly where he wanted to be and Saber groaned in appreciation as he started to kiss at her soft flesh. His hands moved to her lower back before settling on her backside. He kissed her breasts hungrily, catching her nipple between his teeth.

“I’m gonna ride you like a stallion,” Mathilda muttered, her voice half moaning. 

“Ready when you are,” Saber said, his voice low and lusty. He was more than ready, and they could both feel it in the pulse of his erection pressed against her inner thigh.

She lifted on her knees and lowered back down over him, bringing a deep moan from Saber. His voice rumbled between her breasts and Mathilda had to resist the urge to laugh at that. In a different setting, he might be like a purring kitten.

“Fuck,” Saber mumbled, his hands squeezing her ass and his hips bucking into hers. “You are fantastic.”

“Thanks for noticing,” Mathilda gasped, her own voice grown foggy with desire. She rolled her hips down against him hard and her hands moved to his shoulders, gripping him hard. “You’re... not so bad yourself... Mm--”

Saber’s lips moved up. He leaned forward so he could reach her lips. As delicious as her breasts ere, he liked the rest of her too. And he didn’t want her to feel lonely when she was with him.

“Show me what you got, commander,” he murmured before kissing her again. “I’m all yours.”

It felt good for them both to get lost. Saber had felt lonely too, since he last saw her. And even though they had been drunk, he’d thought of her after. He’d yearned for that heat between her legs. To feel the thrill. 

She set a ruthless pace, truly a horsewoman at heart. Saber smiled against her lips and thrust back. He had no problem being the stallion she wanted to ride.

Saber’s skin was hot like irons in her arms. He could feel himself getting close, maybe it had been too long since he’d been with a woman.

“Mathilda,” he moaned, grinding deeper into her. His shoulders shuddered and he felt her nails dig into his skin. “Gods, you feel good--”

She stroked a hand through his hair, liking the way his auburn hair looked in the dark. She hadn’t quite gotten to the end herself, but in the moment, she didn’t need that. Mathilda could feel his release and the way he melted around her. His breath was short and hot and chuckling half of the time.

Something about it made her feel powerful. In control.

“Shit,” he shook his head and leaned back, looking her in the eyes. “I was too quick. Gimme another shot?” 

She laughed at that time, a low and soft sound in her throat. “We have all night, Saber. You’ve got plenty of time to make it up to me.”

Saber looked at her with a soft expression in his eye. The sparse candlelight in his room made her hair look like molten gold around her shoulders. He relished the hours he was about to spend between her legs.

“Don’t worry, gorgeous. You won’t feel lonely by the time I’m done with you.”

Mathilda chuckled at him, running her hand through his hair again. “I’m not the spoiling type, Saber.”

“They’re so sore,” Sumia had told him, which wasn’t a lie. Pregnancy had done a lot of things to her body, and her breasts were swollen and aching just like her ankles were.

Vaike had no problems assisting with that. It was hard not to be a little bit enamored with her bosom as it were.

“Your wish is The Vaike’s command,” he’d chuckled, kissing her cheek as his hands reached around her sides to begin gentle ministrations.

Gentle ministrations that made her moan and arch back into him.

“Vaike, that feels so good~”

“Heh... Sumia, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sound--”

“Mmmmmm~” she cut him off, biting her bottom lip. “I want you to fuck me...”

His eyebrows raised and his hands paused what they were doing. “...Huh?” Vaike leaned to the side, looking down at her face and he saw that Sumia’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes heady with lust. Gods help him, she was so adorable, but he didn’t want to do anything that might hurt her. Her body was beautiful, even with her growing belly, but it was also sensitive.

“You sure about that?” he asked her. “You’re not still sore?”

Sumia turned her head to look at him with those big, grey eyes that he loved so much. “I’m fine, I just... I need you.”

He smirked and leaned in to kiss her, squeezing her breasts in a manner far more flirtatious than soothing. “What position will be comfortable for you?”

“Mmmm,” she whimpered against his lips. “This, just like this.” She was already in his lap, her back against him. He could reach around to fondle her and she could feel his biceps flexing at her sides. Sumia reached down and tried to fumble with her own clothing, but it was hard to reach with her growing belly and she huffed in impatient frustration.

It made Vaike chuckle. “So eager~ You’re cute when you want me.”

“I always want you, that’s why I’m pregnant.”

“Good point,” he kissed her cheek before adjusting how they sat so he could slip her bloomers off and shimmy her chemise up. He leaned her forward and spread his knees, untying his britches. He pulled her back in, pressing himself against her lower back. “I always want you too. See~?”

She sighed, sounding pleased and reached up a hand to tangle in his hair. Sumia shifted, moving herself up then back down, grinding her hips against him as much as she could. It was a bit awkward, given her belly, but it was still enticing to him. Vaike found very few things about her unenticing.

His hands found her hips and guided her into place, careful as he moved his hips up and guided himself in. They both moaned this time, but Sumia was louder. 

“Oh, Vaike~” her voice was low and long and desperate. “Please... I need you--”

“Don’t worry, sugar tits, I’m right here,” he chuckled as he kissed the back of her neck, bucking against her roughly. He could tell the mood she was in. 

Sumia giggled and gasped. “I bet they’re extra sweet now, aren’t they?”

Vaike laughed again, giving her another strong thrust. It brought another gasp from her. “Sweet’r than all your cakes an’ pies~”

Sumia rolled her hips into him. She had one hand on his knee, holding herself steady. Each of his pushes lifted her a notch closer and closer. Like she was climbing a ladder and he was lifting her up each rung. 

“Don’t stop, Vaike...”

“Didn’t plan on it--” he huffed, his own voice growing as husky and disheveled as hers. “Gods, you feel good.”

Sumia’s voice pitched up. That meant she was close, but not close enough. Vaike leaned forward, pressing his chest flush against her back. His lips trailed along her shoulder, nibbling playfully. “Mmmmm~ Sweet as sugar~”

Sumia giggled again. He loved the way she laughed. He moved his hands from her hips, one reaching to find her breast, the other moving over her belly to trail between her legs. He squeezed her breast and flicked his fingers over her labia, easily finding her clitoris, since he already had her spread and swollen. She grinded back against him and cried out with incoherent wanting.

“Like that, huh?” he teased her, thumb tracing around her areola. She whimpered in wanting. “Come on, Sumia, let me hear you~”

She wasn’t restraining herself, but she cried out all the more at his encouragement. And with another thrust, he felt her whole body clench. There she was. 

Vaike smiled against her shoulder. Sumia’s orgasms lasted a long time. Almost half a minute-- he’d timed her for fun a few times. It felt good, how her body tightened and moistened around him. She was warm and soft and he pumped against her, finding his own release in time for her climax to start ebbing.

Sumia was heavy in his arms, but he didn’t mind holding her when she was lax. He circled both his arms around her again and hugged her, one arm under her breasts and one arm cradling her belly.

“Was that what you needed?” he asked with an out of breath chuckle.

Sumia smiled, nuzzling against him and placing one hand on her tummy. “That was wonderful. Thank you... I love you.”

“I love you too S--” Vaike stopped. And blinked. And looked down at her belly. “Heh! Our little bun is kicking around the oven.”

“Oof,” Sumia grunted. “The bun has good timing.”

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.

She shook her head. The nightmares had gradually been going away, but sometimes she still dreamed about blood and arrows. “Bad dreams,” she sighed. “I’ve been trying to go back to sleep, but... nothing.”

“Me neither,” he admitted. “Wanna sit up with me?”

“Not if you’re going to be silent,” she poked his chest lightly. “I need a distraction.”

Lon’qu shrugged. “Hard to come by at midnight.”

Lissa’s hands flattened against his skin, slipping under his shirt and feeling the slight bump of his heartbeat under his ribcage. She leaned over the back of the sofa a bit more and pressed her cheek against his. 

“...Can you be my distraction?” she whispered.

“You sure that’s a good idea right now?”

“Yeah. I just... I need think about something else for a while,” she murmured. “I want to feel something living.”

For a long while there was silence. Lon’qu considered it in his head. There were times when they both had to turn the other down. When they knew they were too rattled and shouldn’t make their affection some kind of dependency. 

But other times, it was a comfort. To get lost in each other.

Lon’qu reached his arms back, hooking them around her shoulders. In one swift movement he pulled her forward. Lissa yelped as she was yanked over the back of the sofa and into his lap. It wasn’t the most graceful of motions, but it did the job. Her legs were akimbo and her nightgown had ridden up above her knees. Her hair was bed mussed, but Lon’qu didn’t mind that. He found it endearing, how wild her blonde locks got when she didn’t style her hair.

“This distracting enough for you?” he murmured.

She smirked and adjusted herself, wrapping arms around his shoulders and straddling her thighs over his hips. She leaned against him, pressing her breasts to his chest and brushing her nose against his own. “I think it could be.”

Lon’qu’s breath caught in his throat. It always did when she got close. She loved that little sound, because she knew it wasn’t out of fear anymore. Now, it was because he had a reverence for her that never went away.

He closed the distance between their lips and Lissa let one hand sneak down his chest. The other carded through his hair, grabbing against his nape. 

“Gods, Lissa,” he chuckled against her lips.

“I’m incorrigible,” she justified, kissing his ear between whispers. “And restless.”

Lon’qu slipped one hand up her thigh, thumbing roughly over her labia. Her lips lifted forward in encouragement. She liked the way his hands felt. Callused and warm. It was easy for him to get the better of her when he held her firmly.

“Is that helping?” he asked gently at her ear.

“Starting to,” she muttered and bit her bottom lip to stifle her moan. He drew a circle around her clitoris with his thumb, mindful to keep the sensations spread out. He’d memorized the things she liked since their wedding. That made intimacy easier for him. When he knew exactly what brought her pleasure, he could avoid causing her any pain.

“You’re pretty when you haven’t slept,” he muttered against her lips, teasing but sincere. 

Lissa smirked between kisses. “Stop making fun of me~”

“Is that what I’m doing?” he asked, lips moving to kiss against her jaw. “I thought I was making love to you.”

He made another firm, wide circle between her folds and Lissa’s voice hitched with a yelp. She didn’t stifle this moan, instead clinging to his shoulders with need.

Lon’qu savored the taste of her pulse as he continued his intimate massage. His index finger slipped inward, feeling her core clench around him. Two rhythms for him to feel. Her quickening pulse with every kiss and her vulva squeezing against him. 

Lissa let out another moan, her voice high and breathy. Whatever nightmares had kept her awake were far away now. She was completely distracted by his touch.

“Lon’qu--!” her hand in his hair pulled and Lon’qu had to resist the urge to moan himself. His wife, so wet and wanting in his lap, always got a rise out of him easily.

“Better?” he asked, kissing her throat again as she arched her back into him.

“Yes... Gods, yes,” she sighed. “You’re too good at that, Lon’qu.”

He chuckled and slid his hand back down her thigh, coming to rest at her knee. His other stroke over her hair before circling around her back and hugging her to him. 

Lissa let out another sigh and turned her head into his shoulder. “How about you?” she asked. “Do you need a little attention too?”

He began to rub her back and he shrugged. “I like holding you.”

She yawned. “I like being held.”

“Try to close your eyes,” Lon’qu murmured. “Get some rest.”

Lissa shook her head in vain. “But we’re both awake. You need to sleep too.”

“I will,” he shrugged. “If you’re asleep, I’ll fall asleep too.”

Lissa didn’t know if he was lying or not, but it was harder to fight sleep when her whole body had gone lax. But he made it too easy to fall back to sleep, wrapped up in his arms and utterly relaxed. 

Since he had known her, Rinea had always been reserved. A young women who deserved so much better, but had been raised under a heavy veil of shame. She’d come to his bed the definition of a virginal bride, but wedding vows did not mean it was so easy for her to let go of all the harsh lessons she’d been taught.

So when her eyes fluttered to the side, he knew that she was, indeed, feeling a touch of something self-conscious. 

“N-No, I... I just... uhm... its--” she stumbled over her words, due in part to how difficult it was to uphold a cohesive conversation when he was still plunged halfway inside her. 

“What I said?” he urged her, though his cock was throbbing and desperately wanted to continue. “I mean every word I say, even in our throws.”

Rinea’s other hand came to cover her face too then. “I... Berkut--”

Something in him understood. Even if she didn’t. It was one thing to enjoy their consummation, another to vocalize it. And he couldn’t expect her to be completely accustomed to such talk when they weren’t even a week into their honeymoon.

So he smiled and he lifted his hand from her leg, to instead gently move her own hands away from her cheeks. 

“No no no~” he cooed, shifting a bit so that the arm he supported himself on could slip beneath her hair-- which was loose and wild over the bedsheets. With his other hand, he laced their fingers together and pinned her hand against the bed gently. “No hiding, love. This is what I meant when I said... that I wanted you be comfortable with us.”

Rinea looked up at him and even though he couldn’t feel her pulse, he knew that her heart was beating as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. Meeting her gaze, seeing her grey eyes, overcome with love and lust, made his erection ache all over again. 

“Look at me,” he instructed, voice a special kind of soft that only she would ever hear. “Don’t look away. Don’t hide from me.”

Rinea nodded, but her gaze did not waver. She looked into his dark irises and her hand squeezed against his. “Berkut...”

It was tempting to kiss her, but that would break the connection, and he wanted that for her. For himself. Slowly, he rocked his hips against her, finishing his halted thrust and watching her face, her eyes, as she gasped with pleasure.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Do you feel me? Can you feel my love for you?”

“Yes--” she answered in a gulping breath. “I love you, Berkut.”

“I know you do,” he assured her, bucking a bit harder now as he resumed their initial pace. “I can tell... Because there is nothing sweeter than the feeling of being inside you.”

For most, such sentiments were playful or flirtatious. But as Berkut repeated his sentiments, each time rutting deeper against her, it was more than just to arouse. 

“Because you are beautiful, Rinea,” he huffed, but never broke the lock of their eyes. “Every inch of you is a blessing.” Not a sin, he didn’t say, but he thought. Nothing about you could ever be shameful.

There was nothing to muffle her when he brought her to a shuddering climax. He liked it that way. Unhinged, sated, and all for him. Her eyes fell to a hazy half-lidded state, but she never looked away. She held onto his gaze with each buck of his hips, and only squeezed his hand tighter as he murmured lustful sentiments through his own completion.

“...I could spend all day between your legs,” he whispered again, cupping her face with one hand as he caught his own breath. “You are everything, Rinea.”

And while she squirmed just a bit in his arms as he said it, she didn’t hide her face this time. Because it wasn’t unseemly or shameful to say such things. Not now. Not when they were finally married.

“You are my everything too, Berkut,” she answered instead, smiling softly. “And I... I suppose that is... what a honeymoon is for. Is it not?”

At that, he quirked an eyebrow and smirked one-sidedly. “My Lady, are you teasing me?”

“N-No! I would never--!”