cribellate | narnia au;

[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-

[She rocks, and George's breath catches because it's perfection. He rolls his hips up, matching her rhythm, one hand on her hip to keep her steady.]

Lucy... Yes. God, it's good.

[It's amazing, better than he has words for. He's inside her, and she feels so good around him, tight and hot, squeezing him perfectly.]

It's perfect.

Oh.

[She whispers it, and keeps moving. From this angle, she can control this, and she can push his cock against her clit. She doesn't exactly know what she's doing but she knows it feels good.

And she knows she likes the way he's whispering, like this is the best thing that she could have given him.]

By the Lion, George, I'm going to move faster-

[And she does, because it feels better. She's breathing over him, panting, and then she covers her mouth with one hand to muffle her cry when she comes, fluttering around his cock.]

[She moves like she knows what she's doing, but George supposes they're both working on instinct. His breath picks up with her pace.]

Yes... Lucy, come on, mo chridhe...

[He bites back a groan as she comes around him, teeth digging into his lip to stop him coming along with her. He grips her hips so tightly his fingers will leave bruises.]

[It is fortunate for the both of them that no one really sees Lucy naked except for George, because she knows there will be marks, she knows she will trace them in the night, when it’s dark, and he is asleep next to her.

There is no greater luxury than that, then to turn in the night and trace his features and know she is in the safest possible place. That he would guard her until the end of the world.

But right now she rocks against him through the shuddering of her orgasm, and moves off him. She knows he’s close, and there are risks she can’t afford. They can’t afford.

She takes him in hand and strokes him, faster than she was moving.]

[It's a good job she moves when she does. As it is, it only takes a few strokes of Lucy's hand before he's coming, fist in his mouth to muffle his groan. He keeps hold of her as he comes, leaving another set of marks, as his whole body seems to tense and then release in a shuddering climax.]

[She doesn't move for a long, long moment, but finally she lifts up off him to get a cloth and clean them both off. Once they're clean, she comes in and settles on him, so their legs tangle.

It only takes a moment but her arms are around him like he might escape otherwise.]

I feel as though this is too good. I have to hold you lest you vanish.

[George wraps his arms around her just as tightly, wanting to hold onto this moment, when they don't have to be queen and guard.]

Never. I'm not going anywhere without you.

They will think you the strangest of guards. To always be by my side.

[She stays close, though. She doesn't mind.]

I will always have you.

I have never cared what they think of me.

[He kisses the top of her head, fingers stroking lazily over her spine.]

I will be yours. Nothing else is important.

[She presses her chin on his chest.]

Truly?

[She smiles a little.]

You know I would ask you to marry me. If we could.

[He plays idly with her hair, smiling faintly.]

I know you would.

{It's not the greatest comfort in the world, but it's enough.]

And I think you would do the same.

[She relaxes a bit more in his arms.]

I cannot wait to be home.

I would have done already, if I thought you could say yes.

[He closes his eyes and relaxes as well.]

Nor me. I don't like the way they look at you here.

How do they look at me?

[She sits up a little, to look at him in the eye.]

[He curls his fingers under her chin.]

Like you should not spend so much time with your guard.

[She looks a little surprised, then.]

Do they?

[She holds onto him, then.]

I do not like how they look at you.

[George tilts his head, curious. He doesn't pay attention to how people look at him.]

How do they look at me?

Like you are too close to your queen.

[She frowns, and comes up to push her hand in his curls.]

Like you forgot your place, and they seek to remind you of it.

[He leans into the touch, his eyes closing for a moment.]

I know exactly what my place is.

[She is quiet a long moment.]

I think I am going to request a return sooner than anticipated. I do not like to be away from Narnia, no one will think it odd.

[She presses against his side, her face in his neck, her fingers tracing the lines of his tattoo.]

I do not wish to linger. I want to go home, where you can be close by me and no one thinks you odd for it.

We can go to the sea. There are coves that are private, that are mine.

[He cups her cheek in his hand, thumb brushing over her cheek.]

We cannot keep running away, Lucy. You are still queen; we can't ignore that.

[He does want to run away with her, though, to a cove or wherever they can be together, for a day or forever.]

[She wishes that this did not feel so impossible.]

I know.

But you were hurt, and I know I cannot make it less so, but.

I do not know how to make it better for you.

[He presses his cheek to her hair.]

You don't need to make it better for me. I can't make it better for you either, but I have you, and you have me. We can't change the world, but we can make the best of it as it is.

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