cribellate | narnia au;

[She would, one day, like to have a family. A baby. She thinks they might manage it, somehow, but she cannot think how just at this moment.]

I will not let anyone judge me. Or you. Even if it means we keep this ours, yes?

Yes. But you may not be able to stop them. You can't police people's thoughts. We may be as secretive as we like. People will still talk.

[He doesn't care for his own sake--people already judge him, even in Narnia--but he doesn't like to think of her living with whispers and disapproving looks.]

[Her silence is a delicate, embarrassed thing. She does not say anything at first, but finally her voice cracks a little.]

Will you love me if they call me a whore?

[There is not a soul in Narnia that would say such a thing.

But it is not only Narnia who keeps their eyes on Lucy.]

[George sits up, cupping her face in both hands, his voice low and serious but gentle.]

I will strike any man who dares, but I will love you just the same.

[It's one of those odd things he doesn't know how to explain to Lucy: how very different views about sex are in his home. How very different this whole thing would be if they'd met in his world instead of hers.]

[Her hands go up to catch his, layers of warmth against her cheeks.]

Then I will manage.

[She thinks, certainly. Perhaps she will not like it. But that it a matter for another day.]

I want you. All of you. Every part you wish to give me.

Edited 2019-02-08 12:30 (UTC)

[George leans in to kiss her, slow and sweet.]

Every part of me is yours already.

[His hand slides around to the back of her neck, and he kisses her again, deeper this time, not demanding but inquiring.]

[She turns so she is on her back, and tugs him a little, so his weight is just a little on her. He kisses her, and she kisses back, tugging at him and opening her legs to make sure he knows.

She's happy for this.

She wants him, and she shows it by taking his hand to her breast, her nipple hard against his palm.]

[George can feel his heart pounding in his chest as he moves with her. He kneads her breast with his palm and drags his lips down her throat. This feels like something precious, in a society like this, for Lucy to give herself to him. He wants to give it, and her, the reverence they deserve.]

[She raises her neck, so he can kiss her right where she wants, she directs him with the skill of someone who is used to getting her way. Her gasps are tiny and just a little needy.]

Please.

[She whispers it carefully, her hand going to curl in his hair, to get caught there.]

Please.

[George follows her direction with the skill of someone who is used to being told what to do. He doesn't mind just now. His trail fo kisses runs down her throat and along her collar bone. He doesn't lift his lips from her skin to speak.]

Please what, Lucy? Tell me what you'd have me do.

[She goes so quiet, and she pushes up against him, as she takes his hand and brings it between her legs.]

Here.

I would like you inside of me. Carefully. Please.

[George raises himself slightly to look down at her and kiss her softly as he slides his hand up her thigh. His fingers slide through her wetness, finding her clit and teasing over it.]

I'm going to use my fingers first. Is that all right?

[He doesn't think it will be necessary, but it might ease things along.]

[He offers, and she bucks a little against him. His fingers already feel so good on her clit, and she doesn't even know how he's doing that small magic. She spreads her legs a little more.]

Yes, my love. Of course.

[She laughs just a little, as if she's not drunk on his touch.]

[The way she laughs, the way she looks at him, it makes George groan softly, his cock pulsing between his legs. He kisses his way down her throat, tongue darting out to taste her skin, and he slides his fingers further, carefully pushing two into her, thrusting slowly.]

[She's gasping a little, pressing against his fingers. It feels strange, to have him open her, but she's so wet and she wants it too much. Her hands run over his shoulders, as if she needs to touch his skin to feel whole.

Maybe she does.

She reaches down so her fingers are next to his. In comparison they're slender, less callused, but they're there, running alongside his own.

[Even with just his fingers inside her, she's so tight and so wet that George growls quietly against her skin. Her hand moves alongside his, her fingers with his, and it's almost too perfect. With his fingers thrusting into her, his thumb finds her clit again, rubbing in slow circles around it.]

[She moans a little, and then more, her hips pushing up against her will. She didn't think that this was going to happen.

She didn't think that this was how it would feel, even though the last time it was good. Something about this is better. Maybe because he knows more about her body, at least a little.]

Tell me-

[She breathes.]

Tell me what you should like.

Oh, Lucy...

[He buries his face in her neck a moment before he can answer, his voice gruff.]

I want to be inside you. I want to feel you around me, around my...my cock.

[He doesn't have the language to talk about this in terms a Narnian might. It's difficult for him not to say that he wants to fuck her, to talk about her pussy or her cunt.]

[The blush is immediate, fast and intense, bright and embarrassed but desperate regardless. She wants that, too. She wants him.]

Take your hand away, then.

I think-

You cannot be atop me. You're too heavy.

[George laughs softly. He's fairly certain he could bear his own weight, but he won't argue.]

Here, then.

[He moves, swift and fluid, pulling his hand away and rolling onto his back, hands on her hips to keep her steady as he settles her on top of him.]

Will this do?

[She laughs a little.]

Is it all right?

[She doesn't know much about sex but she knows that she has been told that men-

-like to be on top.

But then she is George's queen. He's sworn to her.]

I am quite enamored of the view.

[George laughs as well, shifting easily to slide his breeches down, the only clothing he's wearing.]

It's more than all right, my love. It's perfect. You're...you're so beautiful, Lucy.

[He sits up to kiss her, hand cupping the back of her neck.]

[Her blush is furious, red and bright and down her chest, but he’s kissing her and he calls her my love and she thinks her heart could burst for this man who was a slave, not so long ago, and who is in her bed now. He will not leave her.

She will not let him.

She presses down and back, until his cock is rubbing against her cunt, the head of it just inside her.

She takes her time to lower herself onto him, and the suddenly he is inside her.]

Oh-

[She rocks once, experimentally.]

[She moves over him and his cock throbs at the contact. His breath catches, and he pulls back to look at her to meet her eyes as she takes him into her.]

Oh...

[His eyes are wide, his lips parted. He's never felt this close to anyone, and he never wants to be parted from her.]

[She rocks again and is surprised by the noise she makes, because she had expected to make no noise at all. She whimpers and rocks a third time, putting her hands on his shoulder for leverage. It is strange, uncomfortable for the first moment, but then as she moves and as she starts to feel hotter about it, less self-conscious, as she relaxes, things start to feel better.

She rocks again, faster this time.]

Tell me-

Is this good? This feels so-

[She looks down at where her body is taking his in.]

I feel so full, it's better-

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