cribellate | narnia au;

You are not a slave!

[She says it with a plaintive note to her voice; she knows that he knows that, that it's not his point of view. To begin with - he gets paid. He can leave. He is free to do whatever he likes, even if that means leaving Lucy.]

I am poorly at waiting for you. Ask the maids. Ask Peter.

[Peter, she says, not the High King, because her brother watched her mope and stare out windows and take rides into nothing, and he watched her smiles that were tinged, slightly, with something not altogether bright.

Her hands cup his, and she kisses him again.]

Show me you missed me.

I know.

[He laughs, holding her closer.]

I think he would have liked to have words but his pride prevented it. He's not supposed to allow himself to feel slighted by a slave.

[It had been the one bright spot in the trip. Everything in Calormen had been overshadowed with missing Lucy.

He leans into the kiss, making a quiet, hungry noise against her lips.]

Here in the bath house?

Yes.

[She puts her hands on his shoulders, palms out and flat against them, as if she can understand the width and breadth of him this way.

She can't.]

No one else will come here. I locked the door.

[She sounds desperate.]

Please do not make me wait, my love.

[As soon as he's sure the door is locked, George bends to kiss her again, pulling her close, tugging up her skirts so he can get his hands on her skin.]

I missed you, Lucy. I missed you so much.

[She breathes in when he does that, as if she has been waiting to do that for weeks now, and maybe she has. Her body responds to him like a lodestone, arching up to meet him, her fingers mapping the expanse of his chest.]

Every moment. Every single one.

[She whispers that against his mouth, and then reaches to tug her skirt up, to help him out.]

[He curls an arm around her as he steers them toward a bench so he can sit and pull her into his lap, hiking her skirts up above her knees. He wants their bodies as close as possible, with as much contact between them as possible.]

I'm here now. I'm here in your arms, my queen, my love.

[One hand curled around the back of her neck, he kisses her again, hungry and nearly desperate, like he hasn't realized until now just how much he missed her.]

[She's already breathing hard, panting, biting a little at George's bottom lip. She cups his face in her hands, and kisses him again.]

You will come to me tonight? Sleep in my bed, keep me warm?

[She says it and knows what the answer will be. She can't help it, it feels intimate, perfect.]

[He growls softly at the catch of her teeth.]

You know that I will. Nothing could keep me from you.

[If nothing else, the time apart has taught him to be grateful for what they do have rather than worry for what they don't. He kisses her again, fingers finding the laces of her dress to undo them.]

Are you expected at table?

The High King told me that I could miss, tonight, if I wished it-

[She says it and rolls her shoulders to help the dress come off.]

-and I do wish it, for all that I have not seen Susan in so long.

[And she kisses him again, moving until the dress is on the floor.]

Good. I'm not ready to be your guard again yet.

[He makes quick work of her undergarments and pulls her back into his lap, arms wrapping around her as he kisses her, hands roaming over her back, pulling her closer until they're pressed together, chest to chest.]

Oh-

[She almost whimpers with desire - he is solid under her, and she dreamed about this when he was gone, his touch, the way he felt against her, the way that his hands felt on her hips. She presses closer to him, taking his face in her hands and kissing him again, and again.]

This was rather a good idea on my part.

[She bursts into giggles, her smile dazzling.]

[He laughs as well, feeling the thrill of desire rekindle the ecstasy he'd felt on the battlefield until his limbs are fairly thrumming with energy.]

One of your best, my queen.

[He ducks his head, dropping kisses along the line of her throat until his lips close around her pulse, feeling the beat of her heart under his tongue.]

Lucy-

[Her heart is pounding, louder than normal, and she moves into his mouth, and tugs one hand to her breast. Her nipples are already hard against his touch, and she feels like the heat of the bathhouse doesn't compare at all to what she's feeling now.]

Call me Lucy, please.

Lucy.

[He cups his hand around her breast and kisses along her throat.]

Lucy, my love. Lucy.

[One hand on her back to steady her, he eases her back so he can close his mouth around her nipple, tongue curling around it, sucking gently. He feels giddy with the reality of her skin, hot beneath his lips, after weeks with nothing but memory and imagination.]

[She immediately cries out - she immediately responds with an arch of her back, because the sudden throb between her legs is insistent.

My love, he calls her, and she missed him so much, on so many levels. She missed every talk they have, she missed the way that when they were in public he would come right to her side, as close as he could, so her fingers could brush his arm.

She missed the way that she would hold him when they were alone, and the way he would hold her. She wants to say it but she can't, because all she wants is for him to continue.]

[There's so much George wants to say, but his mouth is otherwise occupied. His teeth catch on her nipple as he slides a hand up her thigh, wasting no time as his fingers slide through her wetness, finding her clit.

He raises his head from her breast just long enough to say,] Careful, mo chridhe. The door is locked, but it isn't soundproof.

[He's not too concerned, though. He keeps his free hand solidly against her back to steady her arching body as he dips his head again, mouthing along her collar bone.]

You could-

[She starts, and the words dissolve into whimpers as she rocks against his hand. He will be the end of her, she is sure of it. She presses urgent kisses to his temple.]

-call me that whenever you like. No one will know what it means but me.

[Oh, and she whimpers more, reaching down to hold his hand. She just wants to touch all of him she can, her other hand against the back of his neck.]

They will know.

[He doesn't take his time, ease her into it. George wants to make her come, he wants to hear her voice, feel her body as she climaxes. His fingers rub desperately against her.]

They'll hear it in my voice. How much I love you. How much I need you.

[He surges up to kiss her,

[She can feel that this won't last long. She can sense he needs it as much as she does, and she presses her head down after they kiss, against his shoulder, so her entire weight is against him and so she can pant little desperate noises into and against his ear.]

Yes-

[Oh, and there it is, her climax, her shuddering against his body with need. Please. Please.]

[His free hand curls around the back of her neck, keeping her steady as she comes, his fingers gradually slowing, gentling.]

That's it, Lucy my love.

[He kisses her temple, lips trailing along her hairline. He hadn't realized how badly he'd missed seeing her like this, feeling the way she moves against him, hearing her pleasure.]

[She clings to him, panting a little, still needy, still needing him. He feels so familiar and she almost thinks this might be another dream, only the heat of his body is too intense for that.]

Tell me what you want.

[She whispers it against his shoulder.]

I would give you my kingdom if you asked right now.

[George holds her close to him.]

No crowns or kingdoms. He's never wanted anything like that. His erection is pressed against her thigh, but there's no other answer than,] You. All I want is you, Lucy.

[She reaches down and takes his erection in hand, stroking it just a little.]

Done.

[She's smiling, before she's adjusting to press him inside of her.]

[He groans, leaning in to kiss her as she moves over him. Feeling her around him, gripping tight, it feels like coming home, so much more than returning to Narnia had. He starts to move, slowly, hips rolling up, easing into her and backing out again. He knows he won't be able to keep up this slow pace for long, but he wants to drag it out a little.]

[She responds in kind, rocking down against him, the pulse of this encounter turned from desperate to slow and loving. She's gasping, and pressing her mouth against as much skin as she can find, until they're completely involved in one another.

This is easy. This is perfect.]

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