Pomegranates

Chapter 4

She didn't know what had drawn the word mate to her lips. Perhaps because Meliodas had used it earlier? Though she didn't quite grasp the definition, it resonated with her somewhere in the recesses of her soul. She could tell it certainly meant something to him, by the way she could feel a fresh roll of turbulence in her mind and the skip in his heartbeat under her palm.

A breath passed between them where he beheld her in dumfounded awe, the word hanging in the air between them, before the blackness swirled back into his eyes with renewed vigor. Then he was against her again, dragging growls and skin and hellblaze across her skin. Somewhere in the onslaught she could hear the broken syllables of her name tumbling from his lips, and feel the gentle tickling sensation as he tucked a few digits into the hem of her underwear. Her mind was reeling, trying to take in all of the sensations at once while also hyper fixating on the progress of her demon slowly dragging her last vestige of clothing down her body.

The white panties held a bit of lace at the hem, decorating her pale moonlit skin as Meliodas tugged the cloth down her legs. He paused again there, his expression all heady awe and his nose twitching slightly. "Pomegranate and arousal," the familiar voice settling in the corner of her mind supplied. She meant to question it, but then Meliodas was leaning forward to place his lips again the inside of her knee while dragging his warm roughened palms slowly up her thighs, towards an aching, throbbing juncture.

Elizabeth forgot to breathe during the transit, but when his probing fingers finally met their destination, a hot sensation streaked through her womb. It was just a gentle drag of his fingertips over the edge of her lower lips, but the gasp drawn from her lungs felt like the life leaving her body, only to be replaced with ache and need. Another slow drag, this one dipping a centimeter deeper to part the lips and catch some of the moisture gathered there, and a primal part of her suddenly knew that this was what she her body was needing, seeking, craving more of. Another pass, a touch deeper still so as to tease the entrance of a cavern never previously explored. She couldn't help it; her hips chased the motion by briefly tipping upward.

Meliodas growled, though in warning or in praise was beyond her. Perhaps beyond him too. Her demon had been occupying his lips against the insides of her legs, but as she chanced a glance down her body with a half-lidded gaze, she spied his demon mark blazing raggedly against the whole of his forehead and his abyss-black eyes fixated on her most intimate area. His free hand shifted to press against the tops of her hips, effectively holding her in place, before making another pass. This time, a single digit snuck partway in, breaching a threshold previously untried. "Well, in reality we passed that threshold long ago." It didn't matter, the sensation was dizzying. Her chest was shuddering now. Why couldn't she seem to get a breath?

"Breathe, love." Her knight's voice punctuated the lust-laden air. How could she, with his finger halfway up her vagina? She could feel herself squeezing against the intrusion, foreign yet desired. Why had he stopped again?

His face was suddenly up near hers, eyes dark and commanding. "Elizabeth, look at me. Breathe, mate." Her eyes traced his, pulling out of the heady fog enough to force a gulp air into her lungs. Meliodas smiled down at her and rewarded her with another kiss on her lips. Alternating dragging his teeth against her lips and slipping his tongue against hers, her focus shifted in attempt to return his ministrations. Once the death grip she held against his intrusion lessened somewhat, he began to slowly pull out and push in again.

Though gentle, the sensation still left her feeling wound too tightly. The second time he pulled all the way out to draw a figure eight around a bundle of nerves near the top of the opening with his wet fingertip, then press back in again. Her hips tried to chase the feeling, but his other hand against her hipbone held her place. A third time and he repeated the motion, this time sliding his finger farther so his knuckles pressed against her, followed by a gentle rocking motion to grind his hand against her while curling his finger somewhere. She gasped, breaking the seal against his lips in a hollow, wordless moan. Goddesses, this alone felt so amazing, and he only had a finger inside her. How would she ever hope to hold up to more?