Do You Have to Let it Linger? | By : megadeth425 Category: +A through F > Fire Emblem (all) > Fire Emblem (all) Views: 5301 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem and make no money from this story. |
She hated the way his smile had won her over, that big grin that made him look like a fool. Even with his face buried in her neck and scattering kisses all over her sensitive skin, he still looked like an idiot. All she could see was his blue hair, but she could tell that beneath it all he was smiling at the prospect of a girl liking him, and he probably had an especially stupid grin because of that. Of course, if he was so lousy with women, she hadn't a clue how he was able to kiss her in a way that made her choke up and blush like a child. “You know, pity sex isn't supposed to be as slow a build-up as real sex. We're just supposed to vent and feel bad for each other being single, so cut the romantic crap.”
Inigo's smile had cut its way through her clothes, leaving both of them in nothing but their underwear. He didn't buy the pity sex excuse at all, and kept going at his comfortable pace, treating Severa like the lady she was. He lay atop her, his hands on her shoulder and hip, lips so firmly pressed against her skin that it pushed her down into the bed. He couldn't help himself with her, because every time he looked up he saw her face bright red, and that was the Severa he wanted to bring out for the night. The one who smiled, whose face, framed by her orange hair, lit up bright just for him. Just as she brought out some measure of confidence in him, he wanted to make her comfortable enough to let down her guard for him. His hand dragged up from her waist along her side, letting his fingertips run gently upward, then down her arm, until entwining his fingers in hers. With a roll of her eyes, Severa groaned as his fingers slipped in between hers. Not at the act itself, but the fact her heart skipped a beat and her cheeks felt like they were on fire. She shouldn't have been falling for any of this cornball crap, but her lips formed together and she leaned forward to give him a kiss on the head. Before she really knew what she was doing, she had a hand in his hair and another wrapped around his upper body, pulling him closer against her, as if she enjoyed feeling his body pressed to hers. She swore up and down that she didn't, but then why was she leaning up against him? Probably because nobody had ever touched her in the myriad of ways he had. He could probably feel her pulse with his lips against her neck, know just how nervous she was. It was a snark detector, allowing him to know she was enjoying it no matter how much she stubbornly refused to admit such. “Can you just get a inside of me already or something?” she muttered, tearing herself away and easing back down into the bed again. “I think you're getting the wrong idea of what this is supposed to be, and if you're going to dally around then you can at least start getting me off.” “I'd hardly want to let down a lady,” Inigo said with a smile and a formal nod of his head. It made her face twist into some strange amalgam of a smile and a snarl that ought to have been disturbing, but Inigo found embarrassingly cute. She was becoming conflicted, and his pride swelled at the prospect of chipping away at Severa's armour, piece by piece, until she finally opened up to sincerity. As asked, he switched gears to please the day, and his lips started to drag down from her neck to her collarbone, where he left tiny bites and kisses, his hands reaching down to grasp her hips and hold her in place. Further down, he kissed her breasts, or at least what her underclothes didn't cover, lingering there the longest. His eyes remained up on her, the beautiful ice queen who had, more than any other woman he'd been enamoured by, captured his heart and held it with resigned impatience and sarcasm. At least, that's what she said; her little blushes always betrayed her. She carried herself an aloof swordswoman who had no patience or time for friends or sincerity, only ever being fully kind to Noire. Everyone else, though they all grew up together, got the snark treatment. It was a shame that she was so transparent about it all that even Inigo could tell it was all an act. As his fingers slipped her underwear down, she let out a ragged breath. His face was down around her pelvis, and she knew what he was going for, and that it wasn't going to be as simple as his fingers inside of her. At least his lips were no longer reading her pulse, because her heart raced at the prospect of what he was going to do, and she realized after she'd done it that her fingers were again in his hair, this time deeper, and holding desperately onto his head. His stupid, weirdly-shaped head and that damned blue hair that had caused so many problems for her relationship with her mother. He ran a finger up her slit, dragging it with agonizing slowness from the bottom up to her clit. She was slightly damp, and on the return trip down he could feel her getting a little more so. She grabbed the blanket she lay on and bit down on her tongue to try and stifle a sound, because the only things trying to claw their way out of her throat were the sort of soft vulnerabilities that she'd sworn never to show. The anticipation alone was killer, and the way his mouth curled made her draw in a sharp breath. It was a game for him, and as much as she wanted to stop him from toying with her just to see if she would crack, the finger had dragged its way up again, sinking in halfway to the joint between her soft lips. “I know I'm the dancer,” he said slyly, and for reasons she was absolutely certain were tied to some strange dependency complex she'd developed for him, she found it to be effective, “But for tonight, how about you be the one to dance for me?” He pulled up one of her long legs, firm from all of her training, and started to kiss her inner thigh with the same loving gentleness he'd given to her neck. As he did so, the finger sank in again on the trip back, up to the first joint and moving more briskly. There was no way he came up with any of this himself, she reasoned. He wasn't a very clever man, and she was damn sure he hadn't done any of these things with a girl before. He must have gotten some advice from someone in camp, given him a routine to memorize. She reminded herself that when it was over, she'd probably have to go stab Virion with one his own arrows. Yes, Virion seemed the most likely candida--oh, gods. A noise slipped through; a loud, high moan that sounded every bit as threatening and deadly as a kitten. That was it, the death of her dignity, and if she could just tear herself away from the pleasure of his finger down to the knuckle inside of her, pumping slowly as his tongue dragged across her previously untouched skin, she'd ensure that Inigo's death followed swiftly. But she couldn't move. She tried to, but her body was absolutely refusing to cooperate, and instead she rattled off another embarrassing noise and scratched his head affectionately. “I'm going to kill you,” she purred, closing her eyes, “But I'll wait until you're done before I do.” She hated that he was chipping at her armour as though he knew exactly where to strike. Inigo, you sly dog, he thought to himself. In his mind that was the proof he'd won, and it was simply about reaping his prize. Going down on Severa was in his mind the best possible end, and as his tongue found her clit, he decided he was going to enjoy it greatly. He started to kiss her nub, all the while working his finger into her with the steady rhythm he wanted her to dance to. Her scent was intoxicating, and whether genuine or a result of his infatuation he didn't care. His childhood crush had given him her express permission to go at her, and he wasn't going to get hung up on the details. On the other hand, Severa clung desperately to details, for they provided her with a distraction, and the chance to figure out how to feel about all this. She could strain herself into believing he was treating her like he would any girl, until she caught that spark in his eye as his tongue worked circles against her clitoris. There was something passionate about it, and she had to avert her gaze as her cheeks again burned scarlet, lest she get too embarrassed, or worse yet, lost gazing into his eyes. That would have been the worst. “Can we get this moving, already? You're being just as slow as you were before; this is a pity screw, not a moonlight romance.”While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
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