Heirs of the Gods

Ch 64.2: Drowning

Warnings: You know the drill...

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Ella briefly registered they were in his home, in the bedroom, illuminated by the blue light entering through the open curtains. Wrapped up in his arms, he walked them back until they were at his bed.

Despite his feverous kisses, he laid her down with aching gentleness, as if he were afraid to break her. Slowly, he leaned over her, elbows braced by her side, supporting his weight.

Ella tugged him down until he fully settled atop her. She craved this. His warmth, his scent, his hefty weight pressing her down. She felt her heart might break through her ribcage and escape if he didn't.

"You look so fucking beautiful in this dress," he breathed against her skin."I've been wanting to do this all damn day."

"You feel like a dream," he brushed his hands over her thighs in languid movements that had desire pooling at her core. "Taste like one too," he mouthed, reverently kissing the top of her breasts and the valley between.

Her head was hazy with need, sluggish. Everything blurred except for Aedion. He was stark and clear, bright like the centre of her world.

She sat up and tugged at his doublet, until he chucked it off completely, not bothering with buttons and undershirts. He sat back on his knees,  his chest rising rapidly. She consumed the sight of his smooth skin bathed by the dim moonlight. The ripples of his defined muscles, the veins lining his arms, the taut lines of his body and the deep v of his hips.

So absolutely, fiercely beautiful.

Suddenly, she hated the idea of anything between them. She wanted to feel him, skin to skin. Craved it more than anything.

Wordlessly, working past the fluttering in her stomach, she reached behind and began undoing the laces on her dress. His eyes grew heavier and darker as he watched, entranced, as the corseted bodice slipped down her shoulders, leaving her completely uncovered, nothing shielding her from his sight. It felt like the most vulnerable thing she'd done, stripping herself bare in front of him.

She almost wanted to cover herself, but she didn't. She let his hungry gaze swallow her whole, singe her skin, and fill her with heat. She revelled in the way his mouth parted, in the way his eyes travelled over the valley of her skin, the dip of her hips, the swell of her breasts.

"Gods," he breathed, sucking in a shallow breath. The hunger and fierce tenderness in his gaze were enough to warm her all over. He reached forward, slowly, firmly, eradicating any doubt in her mind with his mouth.

"You are going to be the death of me," he rasped against her lips.

His lips slid against her and without missing a beat, he pulled down her dress, which had pooled around her waist. She lifted her hips to aid him until he tossed it to some darkened corner of the room.

She was left in nothing but her lacy undergarments and her sheer black stockings. His chest pressed flush against hers, hot and firm, hearts beating wildly. The heat of his skin seeped into her, like a brand.

It was unbearably intimate, and she wanted more.

"I hate these, take them off," she mumbled against his mouth, tugging on his trousers until he chuckled and indulged her, throwing the useless piece of cloth to some remote area of the room.

She pulled him back into the cradle of her thighs, they both groaned. A shiver of pleasure curled low in her belly as he shifted his hips against her, allowing her to feel just how much he wanted this, her.