𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒

SPECIAL [18+]

AU where claude becomes emperor after they win rebellion (will this happen in the story?🤔)

publishing this on here in case people didn't check devotion (a fic where I store all my smut) or are unaware of it

anyways if you want more delicious content you guys better comment 😒!!!!!! all hands on the phone

Word Count: 2.3k

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE.

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Warm fingers seemed to sear your skin. You couldn't think of anything past the lips pressed against yours.

The way Claude kissed you—you could taste it on his tongue, the ache of his desire, the heavy desperation that rushed down your throat. You trembled under his intense touch, the heaviness of his gaze as he undressed you with his eyes. You could feel your Adam's Apple bob when he pressed you flush against the silky soft sheets, his lips swollen from the earlier kiss, his ruby-red eyes gleaming.

"Y/n," Claude whispered, his fingers trailing down the expanse of your bare skin. You jolted at the touch—shivering slightly as the cool air caressed your skin. His fingers were slender and long, and the way they brushed your skin was so delicate—it was ticklish. You smiled back at him, a soft, hysterical giggle coming from your throat.

Your laugh was magical to him. Claude smiled back, pressing a kiss onto the palm of your hand, his lips following the contours and lines of your hand.

"So?" You tilted your head, your voice breathy from anticipation and mirth, "are you planning to tell me my future? Are you trying to read my palm?"

Claude played along, his voice low and sweet. "I see your future, darling."

You smiled. "Oh?"

"It's with me," Claude whispered, smiling so bright that you couldn't help but release a disbelieving laugh. "Why? You don't think it's true?"

"Hm," you tugged him down, your fingers interlacing with his soft silver hair, "why don't you show me, Your Majesty?"

Claude kissed your jawline this time, his hair tickling your chin. "I will," he murmured, "but I want your first time to be comfortable. I don't want it to hurt. I want to savor this moment," Claude touched your skin. His taste was like wine to you: you could get drunk off it. "I yearned for you, Y/n, I craved you so, so much. I will be gentle, I promise. I will be so; so gentle."

He held you in an achingly soft embrace. Trapping you within his arms, your bare skin skimming over each other's, him painting your skin's canvas a pretty pink when he swirled his tongue around your bud, when he moved from your glistening, bitten lips to make a mess of the rest of the parts of your body. You could help but writhe under that soft touch of his—you could feel your own arousal aching between your legs, throbbing. Whatever flustered emotion you felt disguised by your teasing—it all rushed down there. Claude's grip would grow momentarily tighter whenever you would release a breathy sound—whenever your lashes would glisten with unshed tears. When he saw you in such a state, such a reserved, precious state—Claude would fall in love all over again.

All you felt was the ever present electrifying heat that had worked its way into your insides. It was stubborn: it didn't seem like it intended to leave any time soon. Claude's own arousal pressed against your inner thighs—and god, was it large. You could not see it yet: you were facing an assault of kisses all over your face, littered on your eyelids, your cheek, your nose, then a butterfly, light one on your lips: every time you tried to open your eyes, all you could feel was the sensation of soft lips pressing against your skin.