It isn't the first time she's been in his bed come morning, but it's still a new enough experience that it isn't expected that she'll be there when the sun rises.
Today, the light spills in through the window, cutting the chill in the air only where it touches. It extends its reach across the floor and across first Deimos' chest, then Athessa's back. She has an arm draped over him, bent at the elbow as if she fell asleep cupping his cheek, and her face is a hair's breadth from being smushed against his neck. Close enough for her breath and lips to brush against his skin.
She doesn't wake, but nuzzles closer to him and breathes a soft sigh against him.
Morning's like this are not a luxury Chrysis had ever bestowed upon him. Not even when he had proven his worth, would she ever let him soften. Here he is, every night, sleeping in a warm bed, even if it is too short, with a warm and willing woman that didn't complain that came when he said her name, that provided a perfect amount of heat for these cooler nights than where he came from, in lands far removed from these.
But it was all part of being here, letting them get complacent about him. She'd insist it might have something about letting himself be, but in the end, he assured himself, it was part of a plan Chrysis had advised for him.
So he doesn't lift an inch, when he feels her stir in her sleep. Not quite coming awake himself. Only to roll further onto her side, and draw her with him. Pulling her into his chest with an arm around her waist.
As for Athessa, sharing his bed was never the plan by any stretch of the imagination. Sure, they'd fuck and sometimes that might involve the bed, but the way it always is and always was had her slinking off to her own quarters after. It was like that in Rivain, and it's been like that with every person she's slept with other than him, besides Derrica.
So why is she like this with him? It's not something she knows or cares to examine, really. It's just something she inexplicably needs.
When he pulls her closer, she wakes just enough to hum sleepily, and arrange her arms so they don't get pinned between his chest and hers. Well, one ends up pinned regardless.
He runs his hands over her as she sleeps against him. His eyes not open, his breath still deep. Moving to palm across the curve of her ass to squeeze. Then her hip, her waist. The tops of her thigh. She was so damn soft he was never quite sure how women managed to be, but damn if he wasn't going to enjoy it. A blind exploration of her skin that keeps going.
So it isn't really so steange when his fingers slide up between her thighs. Feeling where she's tacky from come the night before. A satisfied groan on his lips as he tilts his head down to inhale against her hair with the sheer contentment of it.
It's testament to how comfortable she is that even his roaming hands do not wake her fully. Of course, that's before he goes there and draws a soft moan from her throat. As if his touch itself is the sun peeking through the curtains, she presses her face against his chest to shield herself. And, of course, it doesn't work. And, of course, it seems a good idea when that fails to kiss the skin she's pressed against. As if that will help her stay asleep.
She can try as much as he likes, there is a comfort that he doesn't need to open his eyes to know she's already starting to respond. So she doesn't. Stopping only to encourage her thigh over his hip, so he can reach her fully.
The fingers are tickling more than demanding. Brushing over her entrance, back and forth, back and forth, without ever pressing in. Sliding her own wetness against her slit, coating his fingers thoroughly. Playing with her, coaxing her to be ready for him, because eventually, he'll take his cock in hand and enjoy that feeling of her warm and wet and messy first thing. For now, though, he's happy taking the laziness this early in the morning gives.
"Deimos," she murmurs, a whine, a plea, muffled against him as he teases her. It doesn't evolve into more than that, just his name and her shifting against him. Refusing to open her eyes or acknowledge that she's awake even though her body has already betrayed that goal. Her leg rubbing against his hip, her hips gently rolling this way and that.
He doesn't say anything back, what would be the point? The only things that needed to be said were her breathy moans, the soft sound of his name.
His three fingers go in easy, that wet noise of her body taking him down to the knuckle before he draws back. That string of wetness that sticks on his fingers before he slides them back in. Urging her with each roll of her body to take him deeper. Using his thumb where it sat free, to splay her wider. Exposing her clit to curve little circles over and over. Feeling and dragging out how it made her pulse around his digits.
Fuck He knows her too well. She whimpers and tips her head back. His face free of her hair, and free for her to kiss, to take his lip between her teeth as she drapes her arms over his shoulders. And she is free to bite his collarbone when his fingers move just so and to tighten her hold on him when she's right on the edge of climax.
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aaaaand cute stuff ACTION
Today, the light spills in through the window, cutting the chill in the air only where it touches. It extends its reach across the floor and across first Deimos' chest, then Athessa's back. She has an arm draped over him, bent at the elbow as if she fell asleep cupping his cheek, and her face is a hair's breadth from being smushed against his neck. Close enough for her breath and lips to brush against his skin.
She doesn't wake, but nuzzles closer to him and breathes a soft sigh against him.
no subject
But it was all part of being here, letting them get complacent about him. She'd insist it might have something about letting himself be, but in the end, he assured himself, it was part of a plan Chrysis had advised for him.
So he doesn't lift an inch, when he feels her stir in her sleep. Not quite coming awake himself. Only to roll further onto her side, and draw her with him. Pulling her into his chest with an arm around her waist.
no subject
So why is she like this with him? It's not something she knows or cares to examine, really. It's just something she inexplicably needs.
When he pulls her closer, she wakes just enough to hum sleepily, and arrange her arms so they don't get pinned between his chest and hers. Well, one ends up pinned regardless.
no subject
So it isn't really so steange when his fingers slide up between her thighs. Feeling where she's tacky from come the night before. A satisfied groan on his lips as he tilts his head down to inhale against her hair with the sheer contentment of it.
no subject
Slaps nsfw on this bc they trash
The fingers are tickling more than demanding. Brushing over her entrance, back and forth, back and forth, without ever pressing in. Sliding her own wetness against her slit, coating his fingers thoroughly. Playing with her, coaxing her to be ready for him, because eventually, he'll take his cock in hand and enjoy that feeling of her warm and wet and messy first thing. For now, though, he's happy taking the laziness this early in the morning gives.
the most NSFW couple ever tbh
no subject
His three fingers go in easy, that wet noise of her body taking him down to the knuckle before he draws back. That string of wetness that sticks on his fingers before he slides them back in. Urging her with each roll of her body to take him deeper. Using his thumb where it sat free, to splay her wider. Exposing her clit to curve little circles over and over. Feeling and dragging out how it made her pulse around his digits.
no subject