- REWRITING OFFLINE 10/03/25-
☆ 𝗔 𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗜𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗦 : what if the child was a teenager/YA throughout the show duration and not at season 5?
After the death of her mother, 17 y/o Deena Salée rummage through her mothe...
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"𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊, 𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐊!"
The sharp edge of the wooden desk nudged deep into Deena's tailbone, struggling to keep herself stable even with both hands gripping with all her strength. Her left leg was thrown over Erik's shoulder, knelt on the floor, his head disappearing between her thighs.
Kisses along her inner thigh were slow and calculated, teasing his touch until she ached for more. Her voice alternated between dragged hums and choppy breaths the closer his lips arrived at its destination, where his hot mouth feasted her. Ever so often, his brown eyes flickered up to watch the way her face contorted in pleasure and followed her body like a wave whenever her hips buckled, or more weight applied.
Deena's mind was gone, melted into her senses that heightened with each wet stroke touching every nerve all at once. Until she had lost all control of her quivering legs. Erik's grip on her thighs kept her open, then it was his face. He had no choice but to accept his faith, not that he minded little to no air. He'd encourage the idea himself. And now that the house was empty except for the staff, Deena refused to drown her moans.
She moved against his fingers hitting against her walls, somehow managed to squeeze itself through, and his lips sucking on the clit. Constantly hitting and hitting that spot which drove her crazy. "Fuuuck, I'm so close." Deena panted. "Tu me rends folle (you're driving me crazy). Don't stop." He removed his fingers when Deena grabbed his hair and held his head to make use of his face.
It was her words that encouraged Erik to pick up the pace until she was screaming out and warm fluids trickled down her clenched thighs. The intimate journey taking its course and crashing with a final wave. If it wasn't for the towel, the floors would've been ruined.
Erik barely took a breath before his wet lips were molded against Deena's. His entire face and chest now soaked, which he wore proudly, knowing he succeeded in learning her body well with guidance. The mess was inescapable. And perhaps the bond had a hand in it, but without it, Erik was capable.
Kissing him wasn't enough. Deena needed to be consumed by him. Every inch of him.
"J'ai envie de toi (I want you). Right now." Deena said in a voice that almost had Erik back on his knees.
