#af.op

Even over this grave -- which, to be clear -- is not his grave. You're actually not sure who's grave you're fucking on top of. You don't care. You were here. Astarion had been teasing you all day. You're both naked now.

You stifle a moan that threatens to wake the very dead you're disrespecting. Pleasure pulses in your core, a heat in your low belly continues to build. You're so fucking close.

And Astarion knows it. His fingers knead into the meat of your ass. He squeezes and spreads your cheeks as his tongue flicks expertly at that little bundle of nerves between your legs.

You grip the headstone with one hand and run your fingers through his hair with the other. When he's like this, focused only on your pleasure, he doesn't notice that you're messing up his curls. He doesn't care.

You roll your hips, grinding down against his face. "You're just so fucking perfect, aren't you?"

He moans in agreement, still completely focused on you. Only you. Gods. You love the bastard.

You raise your hips, lifting off his face and he whines softly. His pupils are blown wide with lust as he stares up at you, almost pleading with you to sit back down.

"You were close. Why stop? Was it something I did?" he asks, breathless.

"No, your mouth is wonderful. But I want more." You glance over your shoulder at his cock. Hard and already leaking pre-cum.

"Gods, yes, please," Astarion whimpers.

You consider turning around, licking a long strip up his length and then taking him into your mouth -- but you don't. Instead, you move slowly, carefully, and scoot down. You press your cunt against his length, spreading your slick all over him.

"I want you to come inside me," you whisper, slowly dragging your cunt along his length. "I do have one rule though."

Astarion bucks his hips up and whines. His hands find your hips and his fingers dig into your flesh. "Anything."

"You have to beg me," you say.

He grips your hips a little tighter. "Please let me fuck you."

"You can do better than that," you whisper.

Astarion pouts, head falling back against the dirt with a moan as you grind along his length. "Please, please, ride me. Gods. I want you. I need you. Please."

"Good boy," you tease. "I think you've earned a reward."

He licks his lips and nods.

You move carefully, shifting to position his cock at your entrance and then you oh, so, slowly sink down onto him. A delicious stretch. Familiar.

How did you get so lucky?

You swallow back a moan, fingernails dragging lightly across his firm chest as you ride him. His hips rise to meet yours, matching your rhythm thrust for thrust. And you're close again -- right at the edge. But you still need to hear him beg.

So you bend down and press your breasts against his bare chest. He meets your eyes with nothing but pure need.

"Beg," you whisper, still moving your hips.

"Gods, love -- fuck," he whimpers.

He's close. When you ride him like this, it ruins him. He's all yours. And he knows it. "Tell me how good I feel. Beg me to let you come."

"Darling, fuck." His eyes flutter shut and he moans softly. He won't last long now.

You grab his chin and keep the pace with your hips. "Beg."

He meets your eyes. Lips softly parted as he gasps for air. Finally, he manages to say, "You feel amazing. Please, please let me come."

"Good boy. Come for me. Fill me, Astarion," you say.

He comes with a moan, spilling himself deep inside you. You're not far behind. Your own orgasm leaves you breathless, lying limp on his chest.

Later that evening, as you headed out into the city to do -- well, that's private isn't it? -- whatever it is you do. You decided to get a little revenge. You leaned against an alley wall and tugged him flush against your body.

He made a small, surprised noise, and quickly melted into your arms. Your hands were the ones toying with hems of pants this time.

You waited until you felt his lips against your neck, kissing as he searched for a vein -- then you pushed him away and continued on with the very important business you had to attend to.

It was little things all night that built your desire. Your need for him. Little touches. The backs of your hands brushing up against each other. A stolen glance, a knowing smile.

I'm here. I love you. I want you.

It wasn't until the threat of dawn sent you scurrying back home that you finally indulged in each other.

It wasn't until you went all day wanting that you found pleasure in each other.

When you got back home, that's when you found yourself with your hands pinned on either side of your head. Astarion's fingers laced with yours.

"Such a tease," he purred. "Taunting me all day. But you're mine now, aren't you?"

"I'm yours, I'm yours, Astarion," you managed to say.

Your breath came in desperate, needy gasps. Sweat dripped down the curve of your neck, mixing with the rivulets of blood from a messy feed.

You felt -- everything. Every inch of your body craved him, needed his skin against yours.

You threw your head back, squirming beneath him as he fucked into you -- slow, languid, drawing out every thrust. He took his time and felt every inch of you.

"Fuck -- fuck, Astarion," you whimpered. "Don't stop. Please."

Your thoughts became distant. He's all you could see. He was everything. You only knew you want more. Harder, faster, closer.

"Gods, you're so good for me. Aren't you, love? So, so good," he whispered.

There was that low rumble of lust and his voice cracked slightly with desire.

"So good, Astarion," you said.

You squeezed your eyes shut, losing yourself completely to pleasure that quickly reached it's peak. "So close, I'm so close --"

"Eyes on me when you come, darling," he commanded.

You were good. So good. You did exactly as you were told. You opened your eyes to find him watching you.

There was that sly smile that showed just a hint of his fangs. His eyes, red, and dark with lust as he reveled in his control over you --

And something else -- love. Gods. He loved you. And you loved him. More than anything. You built a life together. You trusted each other.

You were happy.

You were so happy as you unraveled beneath the man you loved. You were content as he held you, and fucked you through the orgasm that left your legs weak and your vision blurry.

You felt the deepest satisfaction when he, too, came undone with you.

You lay there, with him in your arms, his ear to your chest. You knew, he was listening and counting each beat of your heart. You didn't ask him what he was thinking.

You didn't have to.