Nothing's Conventional About Us

XXV ~ Maroon

TRIGGER WARNING: SMUT, CURSING

Maroon 

I was never pristine white, 
But I was something lighter,
Something paler.
You held my hand,
My eyes,
And in one fell swoop,
You dyed me maroon.

"You are not a bad cook.", she said teasingly as she licked off the final remnants of syrup of her fingers. 

"But you are definitely the sexiest eater.", he took her hands in his and began sucking clean every single one of them, one by one. 

She bit her lip, her eyes tracking his every movement, before slowly getting up on her knees. The sheet wrapped around her slipped and pooled in a ring around her. His eyes moved down from where they were unflinchingly fixed on hers, lower and lower still, as she slowly pulled herself to straddle his lap, her knees on the bed, on either side of him. 

His tongue peeked out to sweep over his lower lip and she lowered her mouth to meet his just in time, their tastes intermingling and blending into one. He let go of her hands as they found their place on his chest, tracing every inch of steel-hard muscle, taut with tension, underneath the dark gold of his skin. 

However, one of his hands snuck out to pick up the remainder of syrup on the bedside table that he had earlier pulled forward to turn into a makeshift dining table, while his other hand traced the contour of her neck, the delicious softness of her skin warming up to a feverish heat beneath his touch. 

"The syrup is good, no doubt, but never sweeter than you, Princess.", he whispered in her ear, sending shivers skittering down her spine, as he began dripping the sweet liquid right over her bare shoulder. 

"Fuck.", she cursed under her breath, the word disappearing into a gasp, as his tongue came in contact with her overheated skin.

"We will get to that part in due time, Princess.", he whispered against her skin, as his mouth slowly moved up her thigh to the kindling of sweet passion right between them and a hiss escaped her lips as his teeth grazed the most sensitive spot in her whole body. 

"Definitely sweeter than the syrup.", he hummed right before his tongue got to work.

~~~

They lay in a sticky, sweaty mess, the sheets tangled all across their limbs and her hair a scattered curtain sticking to his skin. 

"Sometimes I feel more loved my your unruly hair than by you.", he said, his voice filled with laughter, as he picked the strands clinging to his skin. 

"Sure, sure. Who else do you feel more loved by? One of those princesses who flock after you and hang on your every word? Or maybe one of the women who touched you before me?", she cocked an eyebrow, still catching her breath, her form sprawled across his, tracing circles on his bare chest. 

He bit his lip to hold back the laughter. 

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe I need to reacquaint myself with aforementioned women to draw a fair judgement."

"You do that and you will never see me or my baby ever again.", her voice sounded all calm and playful, but he could recognise the note of possible seriousness in it. 

He bent his head and placed a soft kiss on her fragrant hair. It now smelled of him too, of sex and of his fingers that had run through it. 

"I'd sooner welcome the depths of that fathomless dungeons in which the ancestors of the Gods are said to rot in cold for all of eternity."