(no subject)
Vanilla #18. Trouble Sleeping with Sprinkles
Story : knights
Rating : NC-17
Timeframe : mid 1260's (following Taking Advantage)
Word Count : 1551
I appologize in advance (or maybe you can thank me?) for the fact that I will likely be posting a fair amount of smut in the next week or two...
Anyway, you guys wanted to know (yeah, yeah, I know it was awhile ago) what Lonna did with Dalton's little offer in the hall...
Lonna rolled first to one side, then to the other, silk sheets bunching and spreading beneath her. She frowned at the window, where the moonlight cut through the curtains. Forcing her eyes shut, she ordered herself to sleep. Long moments passed in silence, her attention focused on the slow, steady draw and release of her own breath, until her eyes flew open once more.
The room was still as disturbingly bright, the sheets as cold. Dalton’s bed wouldn’t be so cold, so empty. Lonna slapped her palm to her brow and cursed herself for even thinking such a thing. “You need this as much as I do.” What did he know?
She pulled the blanket over her face to blot out the moon, a shiver coursing down her spine as she recalled the feel of his lips on her own, the touch of his hand on her body. She squirmed uncomfortably beneath the covers, agitated at the gnawing ache such thoughts evoked. With a muttered oath, she threw the blanket aside and swung her feet to the floor. The longer she lingered in her empty bed, the sooner she would find herself crawling into his.
Lonna whisked her robe from where it hung over the bedpost and shrugged into the sleeves. She pulled the thin silk tightly over her and secured the belt around her waist as she shuffled across the room. Maybe she’d take a trip to the kitchen. She opened the door and stepped into the hall.
The palace was silent. The halls, lacking windows, were dotted with sconces from which candles cast their flickering glow. Lonna wandered down one dim corridor after another. The floors were cold and she curled and flexed her toes and chided herself for not looking for slippers before leaving her room. She paused and stooped to rub the chill from her feet.
Where was she headed? Oh, yes, the kitchen. Well, in that case, she’d been moving in entirely the wrong direction. This was… She shook her head and eyed the door in front of which she had stopped. Dalton’s door. Hand to her head, she rolled her eyes. Of all the stupid, foolish…
She stuffed her hands into her pockets and strode past the door. Two steps down the hall, she spun around and returned to the door. He was waiting in there for her. His nice, warm bed was waiting, with warm hands, warm lips. She cursed herself even as she reached out a hand. Just once, she told herself. It wasn’t like she was going to make a habit of this sneaking about like some people.
Lonna gave the door a push and it swung inward with ease. Her breath hitched in her throat as Dalton offered her a smile. Arms folded gently across his bare chest, he stretched out in the bed, shoulders propped against a heap of pillows. She took a cautious step into the room, her eyes stealing slowly over his form, tracing the contours of his torso down to slope of his hips and the thick blankets of rich, dark cloth draped across his waist.
“I told you you’d come,” said Dalton, as she gingerly closed the door behind her.
Lonna frowned at the foolishly grinning figure in the bed. “Arrogance does not become you.”
Dalton shrugged, the broad smile not waivering for even a moment. Lonna chewed her lip at the notice that the covers shifted about his waist, bringing glimpses of pale flesh in and out of her view. “Becoming or not,” he said, “it would seem to be working.”
Lonna blinked and forced her gaze back to his face. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
Dalton gave the bed a pat. “Why don’t you come sit down?”
Lonna crossed the room slowly, well aware of the eyes hungrily watching her every move. She climbed onto the bed, settling on her knees beside him. As she fumbled with her belt, the smile faded, a look of apprehension passing over his face in its place. The knot came free, and her robe fell open, one breast exposed as the silk came to hang loosely from her shoulders.
Dalton blinked and swallowed noisily as he traced her bare curves with his eyes. “You, er, move fast.”
Lonna frowned. “I thought that’s what this was about,” she said, eyes sliding over the bare front of his own reclined form to the blanket draped across his hips. “Or did you just want my company?”
“No.” He swallowed again, the lump visible as it slid down his throat. “No. This is…”
A hand fell over her breast, softly clenching around her before pulling hastily away. “Is something wro-” She barely had time to register the flush in his cheeks before his lips were presed to hers and his hand had returned. His other hand rose to push the fabric from her shoulders, and Lonna wriggled her arms free of the sleeves.
The robe collapsed into a silky heap against the mattress. She put her arms around him, a gasp escaping both their lips as their bodies came together, the warm press of flesh against flesh a sharp contrast to the cool air. Her hands slid over his back, fingers tracing the contours of shoulder blades that rolled beneath her grasp as he continued to knead her.
Lonna dug one foot beneath the covers and angled her hips towards his. Dalton grabbed at the blankets, heaving them up around both their shoulders, as they slid into the bed. Eyes held firmly shut, he brought his lips down over her throat and across her collarbone. With a sigh, she threw her head back against the pillows and wound her hands through the thick, red mane that dipped in and out of the blankets.
Dalton’s hands worked their way eagerly over her body, groping and gliding down over her ribs. He pressed his palms flat against her belly, his fingers stretched out toward her hips, while Lonna held her breath. His hands dipped lower, curling over her thighs. She let her leg fall back with a subtle twist of her hips that loosed his grip and sent his hand skimming back over her.
His lips occupied in an agonizingly slow pull at her breast, Dalton dragged his hand down over her, every brush of his fingers sending chills through her as it descended. She let out a gasp as the hand, at last, thrust itself between her legs, swiftly rising to cup her in its palm as Dalton’s tongue circled her nipple.
He slid one finger tentatively inside her. Lonna gripped at his shoulders and gave voice to a low moan, and a second digit followed the first with far more resolve. She tugged at his hair and twisted her head about, groping the air with her mouth in search of his. They met, lips working hungrily against each other, tongues lapping between.
He held her fast, swallowing her cries as his hand continued its rhythmic stabbing into her. She clawed at his back as his thumb pressed between her folds to add its own maddening strokes to the mix. Her hand snaked its way over him, fingers clutching at his sides while her muscles spasmed against his hand.
She tore her lips from his with a wail as a wave of heat rose within her. “Oh, Dalton,” she cried. “Dalton!”
“Shh.” His lips sought hers blindly, his eyes still shut.
“Dalton, please.” She tucked her arm beneath his, her hand diving between his legs. Her hand curled around him as her whole body went tense.
“Shh,” he said again, his mouth landing on hers. His hand left off in its attentions to focus, instead, on prying her hand from himself.
Lonna found herself on her back, pinned beneath Dalton as his weight bore down on top of her. His legs worked their way between her own and his hips rocked against her. She bucked her own hips to meet his, and he thrust into her, the near painful intensity that had left with his hand returning to her in one swift, hot rush. Her voice rose in her throat, only to die under the pressure of his lips.
His fingers twined with hers, their hands sinking deeper into the matress with every movement. She braced herself against the arms that held her down and threw her weight into her hips. Dalton’s mouth fell from her own, a string of incoherent, strangled sylables tumbling forth as he tensed and spilled inside her. Lonna sank back into the pillows, eyes closed as her head spun. She clamped her legs around his hips and clutched at his hands as he pressed deeper and deeper and release washed over her as well.
Gasping and panting, Dalton lay his head against her shoulder. Sweat beaded on his forehead and collected in his hair. Lonna pulled her hand free of his to run it over the back of his neck. She opened her eyes, slowly, as everything around her seemed to shift and blur.
“You were right,” she said, the room finally coming into focus as her fingers traced lazily down his back.
“Hmm?” His voice rose in a sleepy purr from her breast.
“I did need that,” she said. “Though I suspect not half as much as you did.”
Story : knights
Rating : NC-17
Timeframe : mid 1260's (following Taking Advantage)
Word Count : 1551
I appologize in advance (or maybe you can thank me?) for the fact that I will likely be posting a fair amount of smut in the next week or two...
Anyway, you guys wanted to know (yeah, yeah, I know it was awhile ago) what Lonna did with Dalton's little offer in the hall...
Lonna rolled first to one side, then to the other, silk sheets bunching and spreading beneath her. She frowned at the window, where the moonlight cut through the curtains. Forcing her eyes shut, she ordered herself to sleep. Long moments passed in silence, her attention focused on the slow, steady draw and release of her own breath, until her eyes flew open once more.
The room was still as disturbingly bright, the sheets as cold. Dalton’s bed wouldn’t be so cold, so empty. Lonna slapped her palm to her brow and cursed herself for even thinking such a thing. “You need this as much as I do.” What did he know?
She pulled the blanket over her face to blot out the moon, a shiver coursing down her spine as she recalled the feel of his lips on her own, the touch of his hand on her body. She squirmed uncomfortably beneath the covers, agitated at the gnawing ache such thoughts evoked. With a muttered oath, she threw the blanket aside and swung her feet to the floor. The longer she lingered in her empty bed, the sooner she would find herself crawling into his.
Lonna whisked her robe from where it hung over the bedpost and shrugged into the sleeves. She pulled the thin silk tightly over her and secured the belt around her waist as she shuffled across the room. Maybe she’d take a trip to the kitchen. She opened the door and stepped into the hall.
The palace was silent. The halls, lacking windows, were dotted with sconces from which candles cast their flickering glow. Lonna wandered down one dim corridor after another. The floors were cold and she curled and flexed her toes and chided herself for not looking for slippers before leaving her room. She paused and stooped to rub the chill from her feet.
Where was she headed? Oh, yes, the kitchen. Well, in that case, she’d been moving in entirely the wrong direction. This was… She shook her head and eyed the door in front of which she had stopped. Dalton’s door. Hand to her head, she rolled her eyes. Of all the stupid, foolish…
She stuffed her hands into her pockets and strode past the door. Two steps down the hall, she spun around and returned to the door. He was waiting in there for her. His nice, warm bed was waiting, with warm hands, warm lips. She cursed herself even as she reached out a hand. Just once, she told herself. It wasn’t like she was going to make a habit of this sneaking about like some people.
Lonna gave the door a push and it swung inward with ease. Her breath hitched in her throat as Dalton offered her a smile. Arms folded gently across his bare chest, he stretched out in the bed, shoulders propped against a heap of pillows. She took a cautious step into the room, her eyes stealing slowly over his form, tracing the contours of his torso down to slope of his hips and the thick blankets of rich, dark cloth draped across his waist.
“I told you you’d come,” said Dalton, as she gingerly closed the door behind her.
Lonna frowned at the foolishly grinning figure in the bed. “Arrogance does not become you.”
Dalton shrugged, the broad smile not waivering for even a moment. Lonna chewed her lip at the notice that the covers shifted about his waist, bringing glimpses of pale flesh in and out of her view. “Becoming or not,” he said, “it would seem to be working.”
Lonna blinked and forced her gaze back to his face. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
Dalton gave the bed a pat. “Why don’t you come sit down?”
Lonna crossed the room slowly, well aware of the eyes hungrily watching her every move. She climbed onto the bed, settling on her knees beside him. As she fumbled with her belt, the smile faded, a look of apprehension passing over his face in its place. The knot came free, and her robe fell open, one breast exposed as the silk came to hang loosely from her shoulders.
Dalton blinked and swallowed noisily as he traced her bare curves with his eyes. “You, er, move fast.”
Lonna frowned. “I thought that’s what this was about,” she said, eyes sliding over the bare front of his own reclined form to the blanket draped across his hips. “Or did you just want my company?”
“No.” He swallowed again, the lump visible as it slid down his throat. “No. This is…”
A hand fell over her breast, softly clenching around her before pulling hastily away. “Is something wro-” She barely had time to register the flush in his cheeks before his lips were presed to hers and his hand had returned. His other hand rose to push the fabric from her shoulders, and Lonna wriggled her arms free of the sleeves.
The robe collapsed into a silky heap against the mattress. She put her arms around him, a gasp escaping both their lips as their bodies came together, the warm press of flesh against flesh a sharp contrast to the cool air. Her hands slid over his back, fingers tracing the contours of shoulder blades that rolled beneath her grasp as he continued to knead her.
Lonna dug one foot beneath the covers and angled her hips towards his. Dalton grabbed at the blankets, heaving them up around both their shoulders, as they slid into the bed. Eyes held firmly shut, he brought his lips down over her throat and across her collarbone. With a sigh, she threw her head back against the pillows and wound her hands through the thick, red mane that dipped in and out of the blankets.
Dalton’s hands worked their way eagerly over her body, groping and gliding down over her ribs. He pressed his palms flat against her belly, his fingers stretched out toward her hips, while Lonna held her breath. His hands dipped lower, curling over her thighs. She let her leg fall back with a subtle twist of her hips that loosed his grip and sent his hand skimming back over her.
His lips occupied in an agonizingly slow pull at her breast, Dalton dragged his hand down over her, every brush of his fingers sending chills through her as it descended. She let out a gasp as the hand, at last, thrust itself between her legs, swiftly rising to cup her in its palm as Dalton’s tongue circled her nipple.
He slid one finger tentatively inside her. Lonna gripped at his shoulders and gave voice to a low moan, and a second digit followed the first with far more resolve. She tugged at his hair and twisted her head about, groping the air with her mouth in search of his. They met, lips working hungrily against each other, tongues lapping between.
He held her fast, swallowing her cries as his hand continued its rhythmic stabbing into her. She clawed at his back as his thumb pressed between her folds to add its own maddening strokes to the mix. Her hand snaked its way over him, fingers clutching at his sides while her muscles spasmed against his hand.
She tore her lips from his with a wail as a wave of heat rose within her. “Oh, Dalton,” she cried. “Dalton!”
“Shh.” His lips sought hers blindly, his eyes still shut.
“Dalton, please.” She tucked her arm beneath his, her hand diving between his legs. Her hand curled around him as her whole body went tense.
“Shh,” he said again, his mouth landing on hers. His hand left off in its attentions to focus, instead, on prying her hand from himself.
Lonna found herself on her back, pinned beneath Dalton as his weight bore down on top of her. His legs worked their way between her own and his hips rocked against her. She bucked her own hips to meet his, and he thrust into her, the near painful intensity that had left with his hand returning to her in one swift, hot rush. Her voice rose in her throat, only to die under the pressure of his lips.
His fingers twined with hers, their hands sinking deeper into the matress with every movement. She braced herself against the arms that held her down and threw her weight into her hips. Dalton’s mouth fell from her own, a string of incoherent, strangled sylables tumbling forth as he tensed and spilled inside her. Lonna sank back into the pillows, eyes closed as her head spun. She clamped her legs around his hips and clutched at his hands as he pressed deeper and deeper and release washed over her as well.
Gasping and panting, Dalton lay his head against her shoulder. Sweat beaded on his forehead and collected in his hair. Lonna pulled her hand free of his to run it over the back of his neck. She opened her eyes, slowly, as everything around her seemed to shift and blur.
“You were right,” she said, the room finally coming into focus as her fingers traced lazily down his back.
“Hmm?” His voice rose in a sleepy purr from her breast.
“I did need that,” she said. “Though I suspect not half as much as you did.”