cribellate | narnia au;

[George laughs softly, his lips against her skin.]

If I kiss you everywhere I like, we'll be very late to supper.

[He trails his kisses over the swell of her breast until he finds her nipple and closes his lips around it, tongue curling around it as he sucks.

Since his lonely trek through the desert, George has done his best not to do anything that would suggest he's more than human. In Calormene, it had been a matter of self-preservation. In Narnia, people still view him with suspicion, and he doesn't want to give them any more reasons to.

But when he moves to pull her into his lap and swing round to lay her on her back on the bed, it's with a speed and grace that are only just beyond human.]

I'll tell the king I fell asleep.

[And he's kissing her in sinful places, and it's making her breath catch, and speed up, little by little. She loves this; she feels heady, her hands in his hair, her and then suddenly she is on her back and she isn't sure how she got there.]

George-!

[She's giggling, though.]

You are overdressed.

Your maids will have a hell of a show when they come looking for you.

[He pulls himself upright with a grin. He loves to see her laughing like this, flushed and naked. With practiced ease, he unbuckles his breastplate and pulls it off, his tunic along with it. Bare to the waist, he leans over her again and kisses her. It's soft at first, and he means it to be gentle, but he can feel her body pressed against his, and he deepens the kiss, wanting to be closer still.]

Oh no!

[She tries to push him away.]

The door is not locked, George!

[He had to say it, because now she's convinced one of the maids will walk in on them, and she doesn't think she could survive the embarrassment.]

[George is off her in a flash, on his feet. When he hears why she protested, he laughs and moves to the door.]

Then we'll lock it, majesty. Easily fixed.

[He turns the lock and comes back to the bed, perching on the side in case Lucy has changed her mind.]

Satisfied?

[She watches him go, and then she looks down at her body, and experimentally tugs at her own nipple, but no, the feeling isn't the same as George's hand, or his mouth.]

No.

[She laughs again, and eases back onto the bed.]

I am bereft.

Bereft?

[Smiling, he slides up along Lucy's body, dropping kisses as he goes.]

What can I do to ease your loss, my queen?

[She is smiling, watching him.]

You may touch me, my most honorable guard.

[He is hers, completely. They both know it.]

[He sits up to look at her, his hand skimming up her side.]

You're so beautiful. Perfect.

[His voice is hushed, awed. He's not sure what he did to deserve to be in bed with her like this, but he's so very glad for whatever it was.]

No.

Not so.

[She spreads her legs, just a little, so that he can see her, so that he can touch her, if he wants. She brings her hands up to her face, to hide her face, just a little.]

There are prettier girls. There are sweeter girls. Oh, but I want you. I want you to think I am perfect.

[George reaches gently for her hands, pulling them away from her face.]

Sweeter girls, maybe, but I don't want a sweet girl. You're perfect for me.

[He takes her hand and presses it to his chest where his heart is pounding.]

I want you, Lucy. You and no other.

You called me by my name.

[Her own heart skips a beat, one, and then two, and it feels like it restarts for him. She looks at him with an expression on her face that wants more.]

You may have me. Only you. I belong to you, surely.

It seemed like, if I can't call you by your name here and now, we've no right being in bed together.

[It still felt like a risk when he said it, but it's something precious as well.]

It's enough that you're mine here, like this.

Yes.

Please, call me by my name when we are together.

[He leans forward to kiss him.]

When you say my queen or your majesty I have only heard I love you.

But you say my name like I am the only thing that matters to you.

[He leans into the kiss, his hand moving to stroke down her side.]

You are the only thing. Lucy.

[He laughs softly, like the truth of that is not a weighty thing.]

[She breathes and laughs, but it's a laugh that says that while she didn't expect it, it's exactly what she wanted to hear.]

Please-

[She reaches and kisses him again, and tugs him closer.]

[He kisses her slowly, holding her close against him. It's impossible to choose between taking his time and letting his passion go, and his fingers tremble as he tugs her leg up over his hip. He strokes his hand down her thigh, cupping her ass a moment before sliding his fingers along her slit.]

[He breath catches, and she nudges her leg on his hip a little, so he knows-

-this feels fantastic. She thinks for a moment how lucky she is, to have someone who cares so deeply for her pleasure. Her hands span over his chest, over the hard muscle there, and down to his stomach.

When she touches his cock, it's almost shy, gentle, her fingers just brushing against the head of it for a moment, and then she takes him in hand.]

[The brush of her fingers makes him shudder, and he tangles his fingers in her hair, deepening the kiss. Even with her hand on him, it's her pleasure he focuses on. He knows already how to get himself off.

With his fingers sliding through her wetness, he wonders if she's ever touched herself, if she knows what she likes. The thought of it makes him groan into her mouth.]

[She's moaning a little, her hips chasing his fingers, to try and get more of his touch. She curls up against him, and the moaning is turning to whimpers.]

George-

Please, George-

[George's fingers are long and dextrous, and when he finds her clit, he circles it with his fingertip, rubbing firmly.]

Aye, Lucy. Tell me what you need, m'eudail.

I don't know!

[She whispers it as she bucks up against him. She's never done anything like this before, and she closes her eyes to try and capture this feeling. Her hand against him tightens a little, but not enough to be uncomfortable.]

It feels, right there, that touch is so good.

[Far from being uncomfortable, it draws a deep groan from George, and he pushes into her grip. He circles her clit faster, his touch firm.]

I want to make you feel so good. I want to make you come, Lucy. My queen.

[She's moving her hand now, up and down along his shaft, and she's frantically pushing her mouth against his skin, to bite and tease and taste.]

Oh, my love.

[She rocks and it doesn't take very much to make her shudder, to make her sigh against him. It doesn't rock her, but her orgasm is fluttering, surprising.]

By the Lion, what was that?

[George gives a breathless laugh, his fingers gentling and slowing.]

I think, I hope, that was an orgasm.

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