THE BLANKET FROM NICO'S BED lay in front of the crackling fireplace.
It was made with a thick cotton material, light brown with frayed edges. He'd obviously had it a long time.
You rested on it, palms down, fingers fisting in the material. You were anxious just as much as you were raring to go.
"Are you sure you're alright with this?" he asked again. His voice was close, somewhere by your hip. You'd know for sure if you opened your eyes, but not seeing stopped you from overthinking this for some reason.
"Yes," you told him firmly. "I am. I'm just. Out of practice." Understatement.
"Would it help if I told you what I'm going to do?"
"No," you shook your head. "I – I like not knowing."
"Ah." There was a smile in his voice. "You enjoy the anticipation."
"I do," you breathed.
Would he undress you? Touch you? Use his mouth, fingers? Maybe even his cock?
Gods. Just the thought - You clenched with it.
"You're easy to read," he hummed, delighted. "I could do anything to you right now, and you'd let me, wouldn't you."
"Uh-huh," you agreed.
Nico was drawing this out and torturing you.
He leaned closer, kneeling over you. You felt his heat, his presence— his weight despite not touching you. When he spoke, his voice was in your ear.
"I can smell how badly you want it," he whispered. "But, unfortunately for us both, I won't be venturing inside you tonight."
You deflated with disappointment, holding back a pout.
"I'd let you," you reminded him weakly as if to tempt him to reconsider.
Nico's chuckle was dark.
"I know you would, Bambi. And I want nothing more than to watch your wide eyes glisten when I finally slide home. But I told you. Only once I've dedicated myself to you will I take you that way."
"Fine," you accepted reluctantly.
He pulled back for a moment. Retrieved something.
"I thought you might like this." Something soft touched your eyes, long enough to wrap around your head. A blindfold. A breath caught in your throat. "I take it I'm right."
"Yes." You swallowed, lifting your head so he could tie it.
"You'll let me do anything?" he wondered once finished, hand splayed out on your stomach. You jumped at the sudden touch before pushing into it.
"Anything." You tried to sound casual, but it came out eager. The blindfold made you feel like your senses were heightened, your body ultra-aware.
He hummed once more, this time in approval.
"Shifters have scent glans in many places," he informed you, nimble fingers unknotting the tie on your tunic before slipping underneath where your belly hid. Skin to skin. "But three of them are my personal favourite. So I'll start with the third - my fingertips."
He flexed them against you, rubbing, caressing, and spreading his scent onto you.
"Second is my lips," Nico listed next.
And then he was leaning towards your neck, his mouth soft with scratchy stubble against your sensitive skin.
At first, he nuzzled you, rough hairs pleasant and tickle-y, before he followed it up with an open-mouthed kiss. He trailed up your neck to behind your ear, digging in his nose and inhaling slowly, taking you in.
You moaned, shaking all over, hips jumping.
He stayed there, lips brushing against you as he said huskily, "And then there's my absolute favourite. My cock."
You whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut behind the blindfold. "Gods. I want them all."
"Greedy," he laughed, chest rumbling. "Our glans are hidden all over the shaft, more of them than anywhere else on the body. Our seed also holds ten times the amount of scent than any other glans. It's the most effective way to mark our mate. . .Inside or out."
"Fuck," your voice shook. He was right. This was overwhelming and intense. Your smalls were damp, the spot between your legs warm and tingly. "In. . .or out?"
Did that mean what you think it did?
Gods. It was so dirty. You picture him painting your body with pearly white seed. Rubbing it in for good measure. Just thinking about it left you feeling scandalised. . .in the best way.
"Yes." He sounded amused by you. By your reaction. "You like that idea?"
You thought of his sensitive sense of smell, of how your body's reaction should have been answer enough, but you realised he wanted to hear you say it.
"I do, Nico." You swallowed thickly. "I really do."
His lips trailed back onto your neck, over your collar bone and up the other side. He was marking you. Caressing you.
"I do, too," he admitted lowly into your opposite ear. He nuzzled there, too.
"So do it," you ordered, feeling almost drunk with it. "So they know I'm yours. Completely. You said it was the best way...so do it."
He paused. Considering. "Is that permission?"
"Yes." You felt like crying, emotions running high and raw, and you wanted it so bad you felt hollow with it.
"Well then-" a kiss to your ear. "-Maybe I will. . .or maybe I won't. You'll have to wait and see, won't you?" he smiled. You could hear it in his voice.
He was going to be the death of you.
You gritted your teeth with frustration, wishing he'd get to it already. Teasing was one thing. This had gone beyond that.
"If I was to mark you that way-" his fingers walked slowly from your belly to your chest, the material of your tunic bunching with it. He stopped as he reached your chest wrappings. "-I'd have to undress you."
"That's fine." Finally, you were getting somewhere.
Reassured by your consent, he lifted the material the rest of the way. You raised your arms and helped him remove it before returning to your previous position.
Taking his time, he started to unbind you, unwrapping you like a present. You felt the material loosening with every passing, shivering as he gently pulled the strips out from underneath your back before unlooping it around your front over and over until new flesh was exposed to the warm air.
Finally, the last strand perfectly covering both your nipples slipped free.
Nico was silent. You held your breath, wishing you could see his reaction whilst simultaneously being grateful for the blindfold where you could hide from his heavy eyes.
"Bambi," he said after a few beats, his voice tight. "You're everything I dreamt of and more. A goddess. My goddess."
You released the air from your lungs, pleased with his thoughts.
"I'm glad you approve," you told him shyly, fingers relaxing from your death grip on the blanket.
"I do. Very much." Honest. Raw.
A single finger touched your clavicle before slowly trailing between your breasts.
"Will I do it here I wonder. . ." he thought out loud.
The digit stopped just above your belly button before following its previous path. Only this time, it paused in the middle of your mounds, and then changes direction to the right, over the curve of you, before circling your nipple.
He continued, "Or perhaps here."
Pressure on your nub said he'd pinched you. You gasped, pleasure glittering from your nipple to down below.
Your breaths were heavy whines as he played with you—his palm, fingers, exploring, pinching, sliding from breast to breast.
You moaned loudly, lips parted and head thrown back. You were so glad Mithun was sleeping away tonight.
And then Nico cupped the sides of your mounds, pressing them together as if offering them to himself. You sensed him moving closer.
When he spoke, it confirmed your thoughts. His head was lowering to your chest.
"No, not here," he decided suddenly, hoarsely. His hot breath fanned over you. "As beautiful as it'd be to paint these with my seed, I think we can find somewhere else more. . .suitable. But for now, I better make sure these are thoroughly covered in me."
With that, he presses his lips against you, swiftly followed by an eager and mean tongue. He lapped at the curves of you, the dip between your breasts and sucked at your nipples like he wanted to devour them entirely.
It was too much. It was too good. Your hips ground against nothing, your body craving a release for which you weren't getting enough friction. You begged him, words you weren't aware of. Ones you wouldn't remember, either.
He only stopped when he deemed it time to. When he decided he had scented you enough.
Your nipples were wet. Swollen, too – you didn't have to see them to know that.
Your trousers were tugged at. They slid down your legs, and you kicked them away. This was no longer about want. It was need.
"Please," you asked of him. Anything. Everything. You were intoxicated with it.
Nico's hand found your ankle. Squeezing. Sliding higher, fingertips firm. Massaging.
You prayed to every God out there that he didn't stop.
And, thank fuck, he didn't.
Three? Fingers pressed against the front of your smalls. The pressure against the soaked material made you realise precisely how wet you were.
"Here?" he asked, pressing more firmly into you. His voice was so deep, dark and full of want you felt it in your stomach.
He wanted to spend between your legs. He wanted to mark you there. The idea wrecked you.
"Yes, Nico. Please," you hissed, needy and desperate. You bore down on his fingers. Needing more. "Right there."
You noticed then - a faint sound. Skin on skin. Repetitive and determined.
He was touching himself whilst kneeling next to you. Whilst feeling you and looking at you.
Nico made a noise of indecision.
"Are you sure?" he was winding you up, testing your patience.
"Yes!" you practically shout.
His fingers left you as he nudged your legs open. You felt the coarse hair on his legs brush against the insides of your thighs as he placed himself between them.
You whimpered, squeezing your legs around him so that you could feel more of him.
It was, without a doubt, the hottest thing to ever happen to you.
"Closer," you begged.
"I haven't decided if I'm going to do it yet," he teased you still, even as his breath caught. There was no way he could stop now. You'd kill him if he did.
Despite his words, he did as you asked.
Something hot and solid touched the material of your smalls. His cock. The tip of it. You moaned and pushed down on him, feeling every shake and jerk against your lower lips as he worked himself over.
"Take off my smalls," you demanded. "I. . .I want to feel you. Properly."
"No." He denied, voice stern. "It would be too tempting."
You bit your lip. You wanted him to be tempted – to go too far. But it would be unfair to push him. He'd told you his boundaries, and you respected them, so you dropped it.
"You feel so good," you whispered instead.
"Yeah?" he was getting closer, his voice deeper. More gruff. "Will you do it with me?" he asked almost pleadingly.
His cock nudged you harder, the wet material of your smalls clinging to your lips, parting with them as he applied more pressure. The head stroked from your entrance to clit and back again.
Your thighs shook, and you nodded furiously. "Yes. Yes. I'm going to-," you gasped, gulping. "-soon. Very soon."
Nico let out his own groan. "I won't last," he admitted weakly. He grabbed your hand and placed it between your legs.
You got the hint. Slipping your fingers underneath, you work at your clit with familiar circles. Your toes curled as the pressure built, moaning without caring who heard.
It was the rhythmic bump of Nico's cock head against you, which had you tethering on the edge. What pushed you over was his harsh exhale, followed by a hot splash which warmed the back of your fingers through the fabric of your smalls. You felt it soak through, burning and addictive against the sensitive skin of your lips, your clit, your thighs and your ass.
Wave after wave hit you, your hips rolling, your body tensing, and your thighs trembling. You were vaguely aware of Nico's hand gripping your upper leg, squeezing as he grunted through his release.
Afterwards, you slumped even further into the blanket below you, breathing heavily. Giddiness hit you, and you found yourself giggling.
Nico lifted off your blindfold, his face hovering in front of you. He looked satisfied. Sleepy, almost. His cheeks flushed, and pupils dilated, hair a mess. He offered you a lazy grin.
He went to speak, "Ar-"
You gripped his neck, yanking his mouth down to yours and effectively cutting him off.
He responded almost instantly, sinking into you. One hand held him above you whilst the other cupped your cheek tenderly, thumb pressing against the corner of your lips. You smiled into the kiss.
After a moment, he pulled away, awfully flustered.
You, in return, were awfully smug for putting that expression there.
He blinked at you, lips wet. "What was that for?"
You licked your own. Tasting him. "No reason. Just. . .Because I can." Your voice was rougher than you'd ever heard it before.
His thumb remained on your lips. He stroked along the bottom one. "Oh. Well then." He dipped his head and stole another kiss. Mumbled, "Just because I can, too."