hellorhighwater | [GENESSIA] Inbox

Later she would thank him for his service, but in his current state--the full-blown black lust in his eyes, the completely relaxed state of his body except the hard shaft nestled in the crack of her ass, and the blissful obedience--it wasn't really what he needed. At least, she didn't think it was.

Admittedly, his reactions were new to her. Others had served, but not like this, and what she knew about what he was experiencing was limited to anecdotal knowledge. She wanted it to be good for him, to make this the welcome home he most needed...but what was that?

She reached forward to stroke his hair while she considered it, and pressed kisses to his mouth and cheeks and eyelids. Somewhere in it, she stretched her legs out straight to relieve the strain on her hips and had to take him in hand to flex him safely forward between their bodies. The heat of him against the curve of her belly and off toward her hip gave her an answer she hadn't anticipated.

"Come here, love," she murmured and drew him with her when she rolled to her side. One arm around his shoulders and bent up to stroke his hair, she took that kiss she'd been wanting, claiming his mouth and offering him hers, and then hooked her leg over him as well to hold him as close as the floor would let her. "Like this. Bring yourself off against me while I hold you."

A low sound very close to a purr rolled out of his chest when her fingers ran through his hair, the gentle brushes of her mouth over his face, pressed softly against his--it was a bliss he couldn't define, didn't want to define. He just wanted it to go on, wanted to keep pleasing her...he just wanted.

He was so focused on it, on serving, on the endless, endless feeling that he almost didn't understand for a split second, that she was giving him permission to let go. She kissed him and he yielded, shifted to follow when she rolled off his body and guided him with her, wrapped herself around him...

Neil's hips moved on their own, and then it all hit him in a dizzying rush: her arms around him, the beautiful friction that came when he finally began to move, fingers digging into her hip to draw her closer with every thrust as he rutted against her with his mouth still sealed to hers--just like this, perfect just like this, so he could come for her, got to come for her.

It didn't take long before his big body tensed, his mouth leaving hers so he could press his face against her neck when his orgasm hit him and hit hard. The pleasure was soul-deep as he shuddered in her arms with the force of it, felt endless as heat ran through his limbs and back into him in a seemingly infinite loop of sensation and satisfaction and the briefest glimpse of something that felt borderline divine in letting her have every single part of him.

Things not even his king could touch.

"...thank you...thank you..."

He didn't realize he was whispering it over and over against her neck, not until he twisted his head without thinking so he could whisper them against her shoulder, her jaw, right into her ear as the hand at her hip slid around her waist to just hold on while he drifted in that fading, blinding pleasure, wrapped himself in a glowing, unshakable serenity that left him feeling strangely powerful for how vulnerable he was in the moment.

It was strangely erotic, the way he rutted against her hip, his cock pushing and slipping over soft, taut skin, while their tongues tangled in his mouth. And when he pulled his mouth away, it was even more so, being a surface instead of a hole. As she carded her fingers through his hair, encouraging him with filthy, silken whispers, she wondered if it would be as pleasing to him to have her using his body this way.

The thought fled as his back stiffened under her hand and his hips stuttered in motion. "Just like that. Come on. Come for me," she urged, knowing it was unnecessary for anything but maybe his brain, and then immediately murmured, "That's good, so good," when jets of heated semen painted a streak across her hip and then stripe her lower back.

And then somehow he was thanking her. Over and over, and even if she didn't know precisely what he thanked her for, she knew he needed to. Like he had, she twisted her head to press kisses to his cheekbone and temple. "Love you, my dragon knight."

"...love you, too."

The mindless litany faded to heavy breath as his heartbeat slowly calmed, and in the brief silence that followed he managed to find words again, a coherent sentiment he could string together because in the moment it was everything. That soul deep feeling of possession still had hold of him, the pleasure that came from being hers and pleasing her as intense as his orgasm had been.

He felt well and truly drunk on everything Regina was, and as he lay there, her lips feathering over his face with gentle kisses, her body warm and pliant in his arms, the first tiniest trickles of reality started to slide back in as the touch of her mouth on his skin caught him, held him in the moment, and brought hints of things to come: stiffness in his muscles courtesy of how long he'd been still, aches and pains in places he'd taxed his body with the tension of holding himself so rigidly in check.

While he came back to himself, she soothed him with soft words and tender kisses, stroked his shoulders, and tried to remember what she'd heard, experienced, read about this kind of submission. She didn't know anything and she knew she was going to have to learn--discreetly, because it seemed right for him.

After a few quiet moments, her fingers curled in the back of his hair, she murmured to him, "Are you all right? How do you feel?" a little worriedly. He's been tense and still a long time.

For just a moment it felt like too much being asked of him: to give an answer, to think and focus, to do more than simply giving himself up to her—but it was fleeting as her fingers found a home in his hair. Usually it had the power to steal his reason, but in the moment it was strangely grounding, a solid link between the perfect bliss of possession and his sense of self, of being the man who found beautiful and myriad complexity of feeling in the feel of Regina’s fingers curled into his hair.

“Good.” He replied on a sigh, face still tucked against her neck. That was a solid place to start...

“Stiff.” That came as his sense of reality sharpened a little more, along with a subtle roll of his shoulder to ease some of the tension built up there. That was probably good, too. There was more, though, an underlying, glorious stillness tangled up in the hard floor just starting to feel uncomfortable and the feel of Regina’s arms around him and every magnificent ache and pain promising him memories of this later...

Neil finally lifted his head, looking into her eyes with a smile.

“Right at home.” He concluded with a greater sense of slipping back into his own skin—enough to lean in and take a kiss for himself, slow and warm and filled with more silent gratitude for the perfect way he felt in the moment.

While he kissed her, she drew warmth to her hands and massaged the muscles beneath his arms and up to his shoulders. He didn't like baths much, so she'd get him into a hot shower soon. But for now, her touch would help and soothe.

"Welcome home, my love."

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