Nothing's Conventional About Us

XXXI ~ Merlot

TW: Some good, old-fashioned smut 

The dance of desire flits the border 
Into the merlot sea of addiction
Love soaks in it,
Lust drinks it up.
And our flames, love, 
Dance and kiss and rage,
Entwine and embrace.
And never let go. 

Merlot

The noises were pure filth. The air smelled of it - of addiction of the highest regard and the unholiest worship of all. Their bodies glowed and glistened with love and sweat and divinity, the rules of the holy day ahead getting annihilated at the wake of their burning desire, their all-consuming love. 

Finally, as her fingers frantically clawed at the nearest wall-canopy - tearing at the dainty, helpless climbers - her other hand slapped over her mouth, swallowing the noises that might have penetrated the hastily woven shield of shimmering divinity he had thrown around them just a little while back.

His merciless, ceaseless ministrations, and three crests of ecstasy later, that felt to her like a lifetime ago. 

He finally detached his mouth from her pulsating, drained core when she slumped back against the wall decorated with flowering climbers - or whatever was left of the poor plants. 

His tongue - now tasting entirely of her - claimed hers in a wild, open-mouthed kiss, while she struggled for air that a goddess did not need. 

Alas, old habits die hard. 

Her hands now roamed all over his bare torso, desperate to just touch him, feel as much of him as she could, in the absence of the dark, embroidered shawl that had fallen somewhere on the grass sometime earlier. Her own taste filled her mouth, drowned her every sense, apparently melting her brain to, because after all this exhaustion, the fragrance of her need still filled the air anew. 

He chuckled, the vibration of it only adding layers to the fragrance of her that was driving him wild. He was a man - a god - parched, despite how drunk he was - he felt - on her desire. If there was one thing he could survive on for all of the rest of eternity, this was it. 

Especially now, when the taste, the smell, the very essence of him was so perfectly woven, so deeply entwined in hers. This was his heaven.

He pulled away slightly, his lips still hot on hers, and said in a voice right out of the most sinful of desires, "Again, Princess?"

A sliver of rage flared within her. After all this needless torment, he dared taunt her? 

That flicker of rage blended with the near-constant emotional torrent within her that the presence of their growing child within her sustained, and when her midnight blue eyes peeked up through a shadowy curtain of long, sooty lashes to meet his dark carmine ones - now nearly the shade of well-aged merlot - his heart stuttered and his breath caught. 

Her face was glowing - the radiance of ecstasy and her pregnancy nigh spilling forth from every bit of sweat-coated skin, her lips swollen and parted at being bereft of his - and those eyes looked too large, too godsdamned stunning. So much so that he would slide a dagger into his own heart if she asked him to do so in that instant. 

By all that was holy, he was down bad. Sometimes he feared, was such overwhelming love the eternal weapon capable of killing immortals? But then, if it were, he would have been dead way back. Or just now. 

"My apologies, love.", he leaned forward, pressing the gentlest of kisses on her lower lip, then her upper lip, and then slowly pushed them closed together with his thumb before pressing a third, feather-light kiss on the moue that he would very much rather bite and devour instead - but man or god, there was only so much courage he was capable of.