[ For so long she could only hope that she'd have a love as true as her parents. As a young girl she believed that if she wished it hard enough maybe it could happen. Maybe she could have her own earth-shaking love that she so envied when she saw it in those around her. And if that fell short, which was becoming more of a reality than she'd like to admit as of late, maybe she'd end up with someone kind that she could grow to adore in a different way.
Isn't that what had made the dream that much sweeter and so unbelievably out of reach for her? Godhood and powers beyond her wildest imagination had paled in comparison to finding a love that had become the root of her. That imagined future had been a taste of something beyond what she could have hoped and still wanted to hold onto here – except there hadn't been a guarantee that Claude would want it here or in Fodlan if it came to pass that their timelines did align. And that fear had been what had been ruminating in her mind since they'd crawled out of that stupid crater. What would happen if the heart that hers resonated with, the heart that she called home, the heart whose heart had grown alongside hers didn't want her anymore? Because she'd read somewhere once that the reasons people fall in love with one another can sometimes be the very reasons they fall out of it. What would happen if he stopped choosing her?
Faintly - ]
You what?
[ It's a stupid question, all things considered. He'd left little room for interpretation this time. Not fell. Fallen and still is. Not loved. Love. Embarrassment floods her, heat flaring in her cheeks as the realization dawns on her that this isn't some bizarre dream of hers from before or during their fake future. Suddenly she can't bear to be looked at so earnestly when it becomes apparent to her that he'd looked at her that way for a very, very long time.
Quickly she grabs the nearest pillow, jamming it between their faces. ]
[ For all the anxiety he'd kept to himself over what this moment might look like, how it might feel to outright say what he's hidden in actions as a whisper of three important words, it all disappears now. What's left is peace even as Hilda looks at him with something in her face he can't quite interpret. There's the feeling that he should know given he's learned so many of her expressions by now, but - what it is eludes him until suddenly a pillow meets his face.
At that he has to laugh even if it's muffled to let her protest ring out loud and clear, but it doesn't dissuade him as much as she might've hoped it would. ]
Are you saying I shouldn't look at you while saying them?
[ That makeshift barrier's swatted away playfully to let the words not get lost while it's pushed up somewhere over their heads against the headboard as Claude links his fingers through hers after. A familiar grasp for more than just here, though it's certainly very familiar to now when he uses their hands to very loosely pin hers back against the pillow beneath her head. All the better to swing a leg over her hips to hover above her with an entirely shameless grin. Shameless especially since they both know she could move him aside with one hand quicker than he can blink, but useful until that happens. ]
That's fair enough. I can think up plenty of other ways to get my point across.
[ Like first by leaning down to kiss her cheek made all the warmer by the flush bright enough to be seen even in the dimly lit room, for a start. More follow from there in an unplanned constellation across her face. Next is down her neck to complete the path he'd began along one shoulder earlier but now on the opposite one while he continues on with words between each bit of affection imprinted along her collarbone and lower where he'll continue on his meandering path until interrupted. ]
The same ways from before still meaning all the same things. Even if I'm not looking at you, I still love you.
[ When her foolproof pillow plan (okay, not foolproof but it was the best plan she’d had at the time short of just bolting from the bed into the night) is quickly dismantled by the Master Tactician she can’t help but stare in abject, embarrassed horror as he flips her onto her back. His grip is light, all pretense that she could easily break from if she so wished. But she finds her body sluggish as her mind continues to reel from the words that she knows pour from her very being every time she was near him.
For a moment her breath is lodged in her throat, pulsing under the places where his lips meet her skin. Why did those words have such a chokehold on her when she knows she’s said as much in other ways? Every fleeting touch, every pester and bicker, every prank and joke, every adoring look that she gave him when she didn’t think he was looking all add up to one resounding truth: she is awash in her love of him.
The look on her face says it all.
It shouldn't be embarrassing - but it is for some bizarre, strange reason. For some reason she feels laid bare. Her eyes shut as she groans in what would sound like mock despair to someone who didn't know her as well as Claude. Except it is real. Her words drip in embarrassment as she casts her gaze heavenwards as if that would somehow make it less so. ]
You're trying to kill me! The least you could have done was give me a little warning.
[ Hilda's protest or start of one is ignored as he continues on but not without lightly squeezing her fingers in his first. A closeness he still marvels at after all this time, and the same for touch and that she's here. The skin he moves across with each spot chosen deliberately for each kiss left behind is all that he'd mapped on nights light this long ago and revisited and relearned every night since.
Each would have once served to substitute for those all important words as if they could ever be a proper stand in though he'd convinced himself it could be the same. That every bit of affection could replace the deeper meaning behind it all or that it'd somehow translate into something she would know without it needing to be voiced. A silly hope for which he can't entirely blame his past self but something to which Claude knows he won't return to again - though the words have been said, there's far too much else to add. To pretend it all away would be a task even he wouldn't set himself to.
Absorbed in his task of quiet adoration as he is, her visual embarrassment is mostly lost on him despite that flash of it after he'd demolished the great pillow divide. But - her continued insistence there should've been some sort of warning gets laughter pressed into and against her skin when it finally breaks his concentration enough to not continue on. ]
Uh huh. [ One last kiss to the top of her chest before he's sitting up again, albeit a little reluctantly for having not continued his advance any lower in the name of taking his time, and enough to look down at her with a smile and no shortage of amusement. ] And tell me, how exactly does one warn for that sort of thing?
[ Claude releases her hands, shifting to lean his weight on his elbows then arches an eyebrow as though he's actually waiting for an answer as he runs his fingers through some of her hair scattered across the pillow. ]
[ Of course she finds herself at a loss at how to answer Claude's question. She really walked herself into that one and they both know it - Hilda, because it's her, and Cladue because of the way her mouth gapes open for a moment before promptly shutting as her cheeks puff up. ]
I don't know! But you just - I just -
[ With her hands free the rest of her blundering is thankfully able to be covered up, or at the very least muffled as she buries her face into them. Despite appearances and how much she loved to croon over the love stories of her friends, Hilda had a fairly realistic outlook on love when it came to her. While she had been raised on a diet of romance novels and fairytales she knew what was expected of her and what she was likely destined for. Those stories were stories that would never be hers.
This feels so much like she's still in the dream where, if she were being honest, the god she had become had taken those words for granted after all those years of being together. Time had jaded that version of her, or rather had developed an arrogance that, even if love failed at the end of the world, the bond between them would be what ultimately tethered them together. And now that they were putting space and time between those eight hundred years without that bond, without godly hubris, the confidence she'd had had burned away leaving her with insecurities abound.
Whatever desirability she knew she had was merely skin deep. In their godhood she had been powerful. Talented. And while all of those things had terrified her, they had made her feel deserving of the love she had received. What did she have now? Just a title and Crest that didn't matter here. She didn't need someone to save her with love or affection. She just wanted to feel worthy of it.
Her admission is quiet. ]
I wasn't sure if you still would. Or did. Love me that is.
[ When Hilda's hands go to her face after the sputtered start of one sentence and then another, Claude reaches for them to pull them away after giving her a few seconds of composure. But nothing else from him follows since it feels important to wait for what she'll say without influencing it one way or another; it's not difficult to tell she's wavering between different thoughts as he traces his thumbs across the back of her hands and watches her expression.
What she admits in that soft voice hurts at first in an instinctive reaction and one Claude knows isn't rational. It's the same fear, in some ways, which kept him holding onto this and keeping it to himself. His expression softens as he looks at her. Though he doesn't respond right away, Claude doesn't have to question what to say. ]
How could I ever stop?
[ Rhetorical. It's a question to which Claude believes there's no answer when there is no question behind it; rather, it's an immutable statement. It's true that last year he had spent some time trying to bury it and force himself to forget, but all that had done was make the roots of it that'd formed years ago take hold that much more. There is no future in which he can imagine it not being there, not even in the years in which he'd become what he wants to believe was someone else entirely. Even then, that love never once wavered.
It's what Hilda deserves to hear. What's already been said was to open the door to it, and what waits is nothing but more honesty she should have heard long ago. ]
Fear made me selfish and kept me from telling you what I should have far too long before now, but I won't let that be the case any longer. When I was a kid, I used to spend a lot of time looking up at the stars every night. I felt less alone then, and everything that felt so big and insurmountable no longer felt impossible when they were there. The stars made it feel like everything was in reach if I only waited for them to appear.
You're the stars of my life, Hilda. Maybe that was just a silly nickname once upon a time when we were younger, but it became more than to me. It's still more than that to me now. It's a truth for how much you mean to me and for how much that'll never change. Not now, not ever, no matter what. You'll always be the stars to me.
[ When Claude tugs at her hands they fall away without any resistance despite knowing that her cheeks are probably flush in a way she doesn't like. In hindsight it shouldn’t matter what she looks like and she knows that. He’s seen her in so many states at this point — primped and proper, barely coherent with last night’s sleep in her eyes and dried drool on her cheek, bloodied and broken — that this probably doesn’t even make the notable mentions list. What she’s more acutely aware of is the fact that she feels laid bare before him, not just in this moment, but in all the moments before this. For there is the unmistakable look of love on her face that he must know without a shadow of a doubt is how she’s been looking at him for so many years now.
When he compared her to the stars, she had never given it much weight. Why would she when playfulness and freedom was all she ever wanted? Claude believing in her, seeing her as more than just Holst’s little sister and as someone of worth barely crossed her mind. To be loved by Claude had been a daydream that had blossomed unbeknownst to her. A daydream that she could keep close to her heart because she never thought she could have him in that way. Even before knowing he was a prince she had known better than to let it go further than that.
And yet here he is, bathed in the light of the moon that she so affectionately calls him looking at her in the way she’s always hoped. For a moment she lies there in silence, overwhelmed and overrun with tenderness, foolishness, and embarrassment.
But in the next breath her hands are cradling his face, closing the distance between them in this bedframe to kiss him. That alone could say so many things because she’s never thought she’s had a talent for meaningful words: he is like the moon; he illuminates, he makes everything more. But he deserves more than that. When she breaks apart from him it’s only for a moment and only to hover inches from his lips as she peppers words between more kisses. ]
I love you. [ A laugh splutters from her lips, the words sounding strange and yet so familiar on her lips because she had said it in so many ways except those three words. ] And it’s so stupid because no matter what I try to compare you to, nothing will ever describe how I feel. I love you. I love you even though I don't feel deserving of your love, but for you I'll try.
[ She brings his hand to lay over her chest, pressing her forehead to his. The words that come next are clumsy, but no less earnest. Learning Almyran had been a difficult endeavor when there was no one to teach it to her and she had wanted to keep it a surprise. The last thing she had expected was for it to come out like this. ]
My moon. My heart. I adore you with everything that I am.
[ The look on her face reminds him of a kaleidoscope in how it changes each time he looks at it, never quite the same in the emotions shifting through it but each feeling identifiable as they move through her expression. Glimpses of emotions he's seen before, ones he'd pinned hopes upon for what they could mean, and now they fall into place to form that ever changing picture. But the constant is there - the core of it all no longer a hope he'd quietly kindled on his own that's grown into a confirmation of feelings shared.
There is, of course, the ever present desire to banter back about the idea of being deserving and how Hilda is applying it to herself. Claude lets it go. Decides for now it doesn't matter when there's the same words back for each of them to hold onto that makes the long road to get here and all it's taken for both of them to know the other means it as each of those kisses are returned if he doesn't beat her to another one first when happiness is far more distracting.
It takes him a moment to place what she's saying next, if only because it's been so long since he's heard Almyran spoken by anyone other than himself. To hear Hilda speak it now - the words filter through his surprise before they fully register. Surprise which is plain on his face momentarily though once the language he knows so well clicks as does the recognition Hilda's taken the time to learn it to tell him this, it quickly softens. Whatever was there before melts into an expression full of affection and love, unguarded in its entirety as Claude has to take a moment to swallow back the tightness that's formed in the back of his throat. ]
My love, you are already everything I ever wanted.
[ The words are carefully chosen and spoken to make sure they're enunciated and not lost in hoarseness from sentiment he's not entirely successful from keeping out as it slips in anyway. The same for not getting misplaced in between their lips, not until he leans down for another slow kiss with no less intensity behind it as though it'll transfer those words if they weren't understood. To pass on all the rest waiting to be said for the time they still have, to seal them with another promise. Now that they've been said, it feels all the sillier to him that he'd waited years upon years to voice them beyond hiding them in touches, looks, and any number of smaller things he knew she'd love like they could ever be a proper substitute when they should have been a supplement all along.
It's a lot to put into a kiss, but he means to. Until Claude interrupts it to pull back just enough so Hilda can see the amused look on his face. ]
And how long, exactly, have you been planning to drop learning Almyran on me out of nowhere?
[ It takes her a moment to piece together what Claude says to her in Almyran. Having only ever hearing her own (probably very incorrect) pronunciation, she's never heard it properly spoken to her. The snippets that she heard from time to time between merchants who did business in Almyra couldn't be counted either because the moment any of them had seen her curious, bright eyes flitting to them they had switched back to their common tongue.
Worry lingers in the back of her mind - about butchering what she's said or completely saying the wrong thing and misconstruing her feelings - and a part of her waits for laughter at at her to follow the surprise. Instead his expression melts into something akin to the ones that are quickly becoming so familiar and precious to her. It's one that she knows in her heart of hearts that she'll never tire of seeing.
It takes her a moment to piece together what he's saying. Almyran is beautiful on its own when it isn't being absolutely butchered by her attempts. But it's made more so coming from him and the meaning behind the words that she manages to understand which is only further solidified by the intent in his kiss. It is a promise filled with intent, one that she intends to give and keep right back. When they parts it's with no amount of small reluctance on her part. ]
Maybe a couple of months. [ She nuzzles her nose against his, a tender, somewhat shy smile, flitting to her lips as she catches her breath from the kiss. ] Is this the part where you tell me my pronunciation was awful?
[ No hesitation before that answer as if he's really weighing up some sort of supposed consequence here in the wake of knowing not even he'd managed to hide what this had meant to him. A final tearing down of whatever guards he'd had remaining, and ones he's not sorry to see go nor is the desire to put them back into place anywhere near being on his mind. There's nothing about that he wants to criticize even playfully when the meaningfulness behind the gesture could never be forgotten.
It's tempting to continue to stay right here and continue basking in the glow of her smile as warm as any sunlight, but Claude lets a thoughtful expression cross his face like something's just occurred to him. Like it's not going to be recognizable to her as yet another one of his usual ploys from being used so many times before, but he doesn't linger where he is. He'd been interrupted in what he was doing before, after all.
So it's easy, then, to bend again to drag his lips along her jaw as if picking just where to stop before skimming teeth just as lightly along the curve of her throat down to her collarbone as if still deciding. At the same time he shifts the hand on her back down along it, another deliberate trail moving even slower southward to catch the hem of what she's wearing to run it between his fingertips with no particular rush in any of his movements with the words pressed into her skin in between leisurely kisses left behind. ]
Or maybe later. I can think of other things I'd rather do first.
[ Whatever feigned whine that would normally make an appearance in the wake of supposed criticism is swallowed by gentle intake of breath as he journeys south along her warm skin. As his mouth skims her jaw she bares his neck to him, a motion she's done so many times before in the past. There has never been a need for her to be so closely guarded, even physically, or to think twice about baring herself like that. Even if she had, the time for hesitation for that has long since passed because it's always felt so natural and right with him.
The sentiment that had danced across her mind and settled on her heart so many months ago when they had made up in the spa remains ever present and truthful now: so much of her is his. Wholly, and fully, in this timeline or whatever timeline lay before them. Something else makes that thought soar as she feels his fingers tease the hem of her thin slip: she can start to believe that he feels the same too.
Her hands trace long lines down the lines of his neck, fingernails scraping lightly against the planes of his chest. A pleased noise hums from her throat as she feigns innocence. ]
[ A laugh gets pressed into her shoulder at what he recognizes could be the start of a whine as a preface to more. It might've been, if not for that inhale betraying her and it's with a smile his lips meet her skin next. Another time he would've given into it and gladly so to start their round of supposed squabbling back and forth when the fondness of falling into old and beloved routines.
Like this one, also, as Claude nudges the strap of her slip off her shoulder until it falls slack to the side and out of his way. Better for leaving more kisses behind as if he's decided to cover everywhere he can with a kiss as a small shiver of pleased delight runs its way down his spine as her hands move across him with the light scratch of fingernails in turn. All the more reason to switch to open mouth kisses as he shifts down to reach the curve of her breasts without moving her nightgown away.
Claude distracts himself when he lets her hem fall from his fingers to instead run those fingertips along her skin beneath in a lazy pattern winding to nowhere in particular. No rush in taking time to map out what he knows from touch alone or to trade it for sight (yet) all over again with touch varying to featherlight as he moves over her hip. ]
I suppose that depends on whether I should tell you or show you.
[ The way her heart skips a beat as warmth pebbles her skin is hard to go unnoticed. Not that she has half a mind of doing that. The entirety of her is awash in thoughts of him, of the way his fingers trace patterns against her skin and it feels to be underneath his gaze.
Indulgence is something she’s found herself grappling with as their time spent in Abraxas has gone on. Being selfish has proven to be a hurtful thing not necessarily to her, but those around her. And where she had once been able to turn a blind eye to the consequences, time, both during a time of war and then briefly as a god, has taught her that there was a time and place for both. She would always be selfish and she knew that. Digging her claws into those she deemed as hers would always be instinctual because they were hers as much as she was theirs.
But when else would she indulge if not right now?
She settles herself back against the pillows, languidly pushing him down in the process. Her lips curl while still managing to keep that perfectly feigned innocence on her face. ]
[ This time rather than simply let laughter work its way into her skin or the fabric of her slip, Claude leaves one more kiss behind before tilting his head up just enough so Hilda can see the widely present smirk as he shifts to move down the length of her body slowly and with ease. There are some things too permanently etched in his memory to ever forget, there as permanently as ever as they were when they'd spent many a night learning each other.
It's with that in mind that he's content to take his time. Another part of the game they're playing and one he can play his part in. ]
And what is it you'll be learning tonight?
[ Innocence matched for innocence even as he settles himself between her legs and lets both hands slide down her sides with one at one hip and the other paused at the back of her thigh. At her hip where those hands beneath the fabric have worked it up enough to ride up to expose more skin, he leaves behind another kiss with a bit of teeth before sitting up just enough to look at her with eyes half lidded in contemplation. Only partly feigned this time, since Hilda before him is a sight distracting all in itself. ]
I seem to remember you having a few ideas we never got to.
[ That hand beneath her thigh lifts it to prop her leg against his shoulder, and as he speaks he moves the hand still beneath her slip with fingernails this time dragging against the skin beneath. This time his destination isn't so meandering as he cups her breast. With the pad of his thumb he draws unhurried circles around her nipple in touches deliberately not enough even if she moves into them as he turns his head without breaking their gaze to kiss the inside of her thigh by her knee in another intentional tease. ]
[ Hilda can't help the splutter of laughter as she goes to hook her other leg over his shoulder, letting it rest against his back with the one he'd moved earlier. ]
I thought you could read my mind. And I don't really feel like I'm equipped to come up with a lesson plan.
[ The chiding is a thin veil that barely covers up the slight stutter of her breath as he drags his fingers excruciatingly along her exposed skin made all the warmer by his touch. Whining with Claude usually got her what she wanted (eventually) but she had a distinct feeling that that wasn't going to be enough for him tonight. Her body responds keenly to him just like it always had, just like it always will. At his touch her back arches as a needy sound from the back of her throat is pulled by the way his lips slowly make their way up her leg and decidedly not anywhere near where she wants it to. If he wanted to play that game then she supposed she could oblige. ]
But if you don't have any ideas in mind I could always just...
[ She never completes that sentence, her own hand trailing idly between her thighs to hoist the hem of her slip further up to expose her belly. The only fabric left in his view are her underwear and it wouldn't be difficult for him to imagine where her hands travel to next. Teasingly she drags a finger against the thin fabric, cocking her head to the side as she watches him. ]
[ Hilda's movement gets him to pause with lips still pressed to her skin as she protests having no ideas and them proceeds to demonstrate one. The reveal of skin he'd left untouched as of yet for tonight is effective.
So is the trace of her hand in a suggestion even as she'd moved into the touch he was intentionally keeping light in what certainly isn't enough for either one of them. But his deliberate semi-stalling continues as he moves his gaze back to hers while simultaneously moving his fingers again, first to cup her breast more before no longer teasing alone but teasing her nipple with proper touch in search of more of those sounds. ]
Hmm, I think that's not clear enough. I bet you can be more specific.
[ Like wherever her hand might go next while he plays at patience with her thighs parted around him and the smallest bit of fabric left to be moved. He can wait when it will be well worth whatever her next move is, Claude decides as he moves further up her inner thigh before stopping short of the destination they both know he intends to reach. This time when he pauses again it's to slowly worry a light mark into sensitive skin, something to last until the morning and proof of a smoldering desire.
[ And he earns one - although she does what she can to muffle the noise by biting down her lip never once allowing her gaze to leave his. It's not long before her nipples are pert perks, the exposed skin of her belly and chest now pebbled not because of the warm summer air but ignited because of his touch.
It's his teeth against the sensitive skin of her thighs however that finally coax another soft needy sound from her. Her hips jerk involuntarily and the hand that had been teasing the quickly dampening fabric presses against herself a little harder. Hilda can't help but let out a breathy laugh as her fingers slip underneath the delicate lace of her underwear this time. A hand slips underneath the pillow behind her head, as her back arches her body quietly calling out for him in spite of what her words say otherwise. But she wouldn't give in that easily. ]
More specific? If I have to be more specific then you might have to go sit at the other end of the bed. Maybe it would inspire you or encourage you to think a little faster on your feet.
[ Her knuckles stretch the fabric as her fingers begin to play with her clit, eyes shining with that unspoken challenge. ]
[ Not even Claude with his control over showing or feeling something can pretend like those noises and that needy lift of her hips doesn't affect him, half hard as he is already inside his sleep shorts. And Hilda's challenge? It's a successful one: Claude withdraws his hand again, this time to slide it beneath her underwear as well. His hand comes to rest over hers with her free fingers curled into his palm as his other ones join hers around her clit. Much as he's enjoying her legs over his shoulders he leaves them around his waist now as he moves back up the bed to lean over her. ]
Like this end of the bed instead of where I was?
[ Asked with a heavy dose of faux innocence - of which they both know well he has none and this isn't what she meant by sitting back to watch. But Claude's choosing to find his own inspiration as he moves their fingers at pace which gets incrementally quicker every few seconds while watching her reaction considering he knows it's still not quite enough.
Which is why with a slight smirk he bends his head down, this time foregoing teasing her with his (other) hand to run his tongue over that bud of her nipple a few times in time with the strokes of her clit before pausing as he keeps their hands moving together while trailing his other fingers along her heat in more teasing than intent without further permission first. ]
Seems to be working out okay right here, unless there's something else you want.
[ She'd huff more at his cheekiness for twisting her words in a way that best suits him in this situation, but she can't say that she's particularly bothered by it. Not when it also benefits her too. Such was the nature of their back and forth. There were few times when they were together like this that they actually meant what they said and expected the other to abide by it. And even if she wouldn't have had any problem playing with herself while he watched, it's immediately lost in the form of a pleased hum when his weight shifts and his hands come to join hers in stretching the fabric even tighter.
Any clever quip or retort is lost to his dexterous fingers and warm mouth. Every slight menstruation against her folds and clit make it increasingly difficult not to moan and buck into his touch to the point where her mind forgets that her own fingers are still there. They're simply being moved by Claude's will. Her gaze is half-lidded as the dampness and need for him between her legs grows. A flush spreads down her chest as legs tighten around his waist, her other hand finding purchase in his hair at the nape of his neck so she can draw him close and press her lips to his.
The next quick touch against her swollen clit has her head pressing back against the pillow, eyes fluttering closed. Of course he knows what she wants. But she isn't about to beg yet. He hasn't done enough for that. ]
[ Her legs tightening around him as a different kind of betrayal to the need, the desire, the want already being telegraphed in all those noises and all those motions is enough to bring a smirk to Claude's face. One which is short lived when her fingers in his hair in a grasp he knows she knows he likes get his lips to part on an exhale. It's not until she pulls him down for a kiss that a noise slips out and gets lost between their mouths as he meets her just as insistently.
For that Hilda earns another sweep of his fingers and he's rewarded with her falling back against the pillow with a look on her face he never gets tired of memorizing. Her petulance never fails to be something he finds endearing even as he risks a breathy laugh. ]
Not doing a good enough job showing you, am I?
[ A question he's not looking for an answer to as he's admiring that flush where it stands out even in the room's dim light. Where it'd been teasing before, now his touch quickens to take over for her fingers that've lost focus. That suits him just fine as he keeps his focus on her clit to keep those smaller waves of pleasure that could be bigger still as he leans down again, but this time to murmur into her ear in a low voice. ]
Should I make it up to you by making you come now or later?
[ Quickly becoming lost in her own pleasure still isn't enough for her to miss the noise that Claude lets out. Knowing that she can still pull those sounds of pleasure from him makes her toes curl and a little jolt of satisfaction runs through her.
Although her legs are wrapped securely around his waist, her fingers wound through his hair feel like a lifeline tethering her here to the present. Hilda knows that it's only a matter of time before she loses herself completely if things continue this way. As her own fingers fall to the wayside and emerge from beneath the fabric of her underwear they're slick with her desire and how much she needed him. His teasing and tactics were effective - not that either of them had any doubts.
Her fingers find purchase on her other breast, kneading it and twisting and teasing her other nipple in time with Claude's fingers. But it's his breath tickling her ear and the low cadence of his voice that has her letting out another keen from the back of her throat as her hips buck up into him. Her body demands it now, but the look she gives him from under half-lidded eyes says something else. How is she supposed to pick? ]
Claude - [ Her hips buck again as another wave of heat washes over her and she draws in a sharp breath. ] don't be mean. I'm not sure you've earned making me come now.
[ That noise after his question like the words dragged it out of her ignites the feeling already running through his veins more than when she'd given herself over to his touch alone. Claude has to swallow back his own need when his focus stays on Hilda and altering each movement to tailor it to each reaction. His name on her lips as her hips jerk again as he keeps his fingers moving nearly erases the thoughts from his mind despite his resolve from seconds ago, and same for the sight of her beneath him as he sits up enough to watch her resisting an edge he's working her carefully towards. Ready to bring her over it right then and there, in fact, but then there's another option she's just presented him with. ]
No? Well, if you'd rather wait...
[ Slowing it down for just a very impatient minute is valid, right? A couple more strokes of her clit and then he withdraws his hand from her underwear and with a smirk that says he knows that's exactly what she wasn't asking for. Before she protests - with any luck - he leans down to kiss her deeply before catching her bottom lip between his teeth when he breaks it. Not long enough for his liking, but: the whole point of being difficult was with something else in mind as he reaches for her nightgown with the intent of finally taking it off her. ]
If I have to earn it, then I want back between your thighs. I'm sure I can think of something that'll count as later instead of now.
[ The strokes of his fingers coax more minute shockwaves through her body, the muscles of her stomach tightening as she fights against the desire to break. It's difficult considering how devious he looks staring down at her like that like he plans on devouring her whole. Her throat works, making the scars left behind in the wake of their fight with the dragon visible in the moonlight. But none of that phases her, fixated on the knowledge that if Claude wanted to devour her all of her newly acquired scars and all, she would let him.
The thought and ensuing protest he correctly guesses on her lips are captured by his muffling the unintentional whimper. Anticipation wracks her and as he pulls away it breaks as a gasp fluttering from her swollen lips. Still reeling from the loss of his touch it takes her a moment to recognize his intent. But as she props herself up on her elbows to help him remove the rest of her clothing she grabs his hand, pulling the fingers that has been playing with her clit and sucking what remained of her from them.
Gazing at him from beneath her lashes she takes her time working his fingers with her tongue. When she finally drags her lips up the length of them a thin line of spit is left in their wake. ]
[ The nightgown gets bunched up in his hands to toss aside with all intentions of it being forgotten until later - much later if he had any say in it - and Claude tosses it aside unceremoniously. Maybe he would've put a little more flair into it simply because he can, but for now his attention stays riveted on Hilda.
At first when she moves he almost thinks, what with his own mind beginning to whirl even without being the one on the other end of the teasing what with orchestrating it, she's sitting up for another kiss. Something he leans forward for in a near surrender to keeping her beneath him like this, but then she takes his hand. If Claude thought he'd been engrossed before, the rest of the room fades away now to nothing but her gaze pinned on his as she works over his fingers in a way which makes him ache.
Fitting considering he'd just done the same to her and by the time she releases his hand there's something between a strangled laugh, a breathless curse, and a groan which rumbles its way out of the back of his throat. ]
Has anyone ever told you you're very convincing?
[ He might have before. There's no pretending it's not with a swiftness he lowers himself to her hips after unwinding her legs from around him. With a practiced move Claude skims both hands down her lower back to her ass for a gratuitous squeeze before hooking his fingers into her underwear to tug them down. Even moving with quickness won't stop him from skimming his mouth along her thigh he hadn't teased before along the way, just to make sure he earns it. ]
[ Hearing that choked sound of desire come from him only further proves to stoke the glint of smugness in her eyes. Fair was fair when it came to them; anything that Claude doled out to her was probably likely to come back to him in some fashion too. The bedroom was no exception to that rule. ]
You have, actually.
[ There's a rumble of a laugh in her voice, a smugness to it that says quite plainly that she knows she can be when she chooses to exercise that power she apparently has over select individuals, present company included. There's no time to linger on that however. Not when she's given him a command and he moves to act on it.
A spark jolts through her as he moves with the motivation of a man on a mission. She barely has time to kick her underwear off to the side of the bed where she'll likely have to search for them in the morning before letting out a soft keen at the touch of his lips to her thighs. A hand finds purchase on her nipple, playing and teasing herself as she settles back onto the pillows to watch. ]
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Isn't that what had made the dream that much sweeter and so unbelievably out of reach for her? Godhood and powers beyond her wildest imagination had paled in comparison to finding a love that had become the root of her. That imagined future had been a taste of something beyond what she could have hoped and still wanted to hold onto here – except there hadn't been a guarantee that Claude would want it here or in Fodlan if it came to pass that their timelines did align. And that fear had been what had been ruminating in her mind since they'd crawled out of that stupid crater. What would happen if the heart that hers resonated with, the heart that she called home, the heart whose heart had grown alongside hers didn't want her anymore? Because she'd read somewhere once that the reasons people fall in love with one another can sometimes be the very reasons they fall out of it. What would happen if he stopped choosing her?
Faintly - ]
You what?
[ It's a stupid question, all things considered. He'd left little room for interpretation this time. Not fell. Fallen and still is. Not loved. Love. Embarrassment floods her, heat flaring in her cheeks as the realization dawns on her that this isn't some bizarre dream of hers from before or during their fake future. Suddenly she can't bear to be looked at so earnestly when it becomes apparent to her that he'd looked at her that way for a very, very long time.
Quickly she grabs the nearest pillow, jamming it between their faces. ]
Claude - you can't just say things like that!
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At that he has to laugh even if it's muffled to let her protest ring out loud and clear, but it doesn't dissuade him as much as she might've hoped it would. ]
Are you saying I shouldn't look at you while saying them?
[ That makeshift barrier's swatted away playfully to let the words not get lost while it's pushed up somewhere over their heads against the headboard as Claude links his fingers through hers after. A familiar grasp for more than just here, though it's certainly very familiar to now when he uses their hands to very loosely pin hers back against the pillow beneath her head. All the better to swing a leg over her hips to hover above her with an entirely shameless grin. Shameless especially since they both know she could move him aside with one hand quicker than he can blink, but useful until that happens. ]
That's fair enough. I can think up plenty of other ways to get my point across.
[ Like first by leaning down to kiss her cheek made all the warmer by the flush bright enough to be seen even in the dimly lit room, for a start. More follow from there in an unplanned constellation across her face. Next is down her neck to complete the path he'd began along one shoulder earlier but now on the opposite one while he continues on with words between each bit of affection imprinted along her collarbone and lower where he'll continue on his meandering path until interrupted. ]
The same ways from before still meaning all the same things. Even if I'm not looking at you, I still love you.
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[ When her foolproof pillow plan (okay, not foolproof but it was the best plan she’d had at the time short of just bolting from the bed into the night) is quickly dismantled by the Master Tactician she can’t help but stare in abject, embarrassed horror as he flips her onto her back. His grip is light, all pretense that she could easily break from if she so wished. But she finds her body sluggish as her mind continues to reel from the words that she knows pour from her very being every time she was near him.
For a moment her breath is lodged in her throat, pulsing under the places where his lips meet her skin. Why did those words have such a chokehold on her when she knows she’s said as much in other ways? Every fleeting touch, every pester and bicker, every prank and joke, every adoring look that she gave him when she didn’t think he was looking all add up to one resounding truth: she is awash in her love of him.
The look on her face says it all.
It shouldn't be embarrassing - but it is for some bizarre, strange reason. For some reason she feels laid bare. Her eyes shut as she groans in what would sound like mock despair to someone who didn't know her as well as Claude. Except it is real. Her words drip in embarrassment as she casts her gaze heavenwards as if that would somehow make it less so. ]
You're trying to kill me! The least you could have done was give me a little warning.
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Each would have once served to substitute for those all important words as if they could ever be a proper stand in though he'd convinced himself it could be the same. That every bit of affection could replace the deeper meaning behind it all or that it'd somehow translate into something she would know without it needing to be voiced. A silly hope for which he can't entirely blame his past self but something to which Claude knows he won't return to again - though the words have been said, there's far too much else to add. To pretend it all away would be a task even he wouldn't set himself to.
Absorbed in his task of quiet adoration as he is, her visual embarrassment is mostly lost on him despite that flash of it after he'd demolished the great pillow divide. But - her continued insistence there should've been some sort of warning gets laughter pressed into and against her skin when it finally breaks his concentration enough to not continue on. ]
Uh huh. [ One last kiss to the top of her chest before he's sitting up again, albeit a little reluctantly for having not continued his advance any lower in the name of taking his time, and enough to look down at her with a smile and no shortage of amusement. ] And tell me, how exactly does one warn for that sort of thing?
[ Claude releases her hands, shifting to lean his weight on his elbows then arches an eyebrow as though he's actually waiting for an answer as he runs his fingers through some of her hair scattered across the pillow. ]
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I don't know! But you just - I just -
[ With her hands free the rest of her blundering is thankfully able to be covered up, or at the very least muffled as she buries her face into them. Despite appearances and how much she loved to croon over the love stories of her friends, Hilda had a fairly realistic outlook on love when it came to her. While she had been raised on a diet of romance novels and fairytales she knew what was expected of her and what she was likely destined for. Those stories were stories that would never be hers.
This feels so much like she's still in the dream where, if she were being honest, the god she had become had taken those words for granted after all those years of being together. Time had jaded that version of her, or rather had developed an arrogance that, even if love failed at the end of the world, the bond between them would be what ultimately tethered them together. And now that they were putting space and time between those eight hundred years without that bond, without godly hubris, the confidence she'd had had burned away leaving her with insecurities abound.
Whatever desirability she knew she had was merely skin deep. In their godhood she had been powerful. Talented. And while all of those things had terrified her, they had made her feel deserving of the love she had received. What did she have now? Just a title and Crest that didn't matter here. She didn't need someone to save her with love or affection. She just wanted to feel worthy of it.
Her admission is quiet. ]
I wasn't sure if you still would. Or did. Love me that is.
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What she admits in that soft voice hurts at first in an instinctive reaction and one Claude knows isn't rational. It's the same fear, in some ways, which kept him holding onto this and keeping it to himself. His expression softens as he looks at her. Though he doesn't respond right away, Claude doesn't have to question what to say. ]
How could I ever stop?
[ Rhetorical. It's a question to which Claude believes there's no answer when there is no question behind it; rather, it's an immutable statement. It's true that last year he had spent some time trying to bury it and force himself to forget, but all that had done was make the roots of it that'd formed years ago take hold that much more. There is no future in which he can imagine it not being there, not even in the years in which he'd become what he wants to believe was someone else entirely. Even then, that love never once wavered.
It's what Hilda deserves to hear. What's already been said was to open the door to it, and what waits is nothing but more honesty she should have heard long ago. ]
Fear made me selfish and kept me from telling you what I should have far too long before now, but I won't let that be the case any longer. When I was a kid, I used to spend a lot of time looking up at the stars every night. I felt less alone then, and everything that felt so big and insurmountable no longer felt impossible when they were there. The stars made it feel like everything was in reach if I only waited for them to appear.
You're the stars of my life, Hilda. Maybe that was just a silly nickname once upon a time when we were younger, but it became more than to me. It's still more than that to me now. It's a truth for how much you mean to me and for how much that'll never change. Not now, not ever, no matter what. You'll always be the stars to me.
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When he compared her to the stars, she had never given it much weight. Why would she when playfulness and freedom was all she ever wanted? Claude believing in her, seeing her as more than just Holst’s little sister and as someone of worth barely crossed her mind. To be loved by Claude had been a daydream that had blossomed unbeknownst to her. A daydream that she could keep close to her heart because she never thought she could have him in that way. Even before knowing he was a prince she had known better than to let it go further than that.
And yet here he is, bathed in the light of the moon that she so affectionately calls him looking at her in the way she’s always hoped. For a moment she lies there in silence, overwhelmed and overrun with tenderness, foolishness, and embarrassment.
But in the next breath her hands are cradling his face, closing the distance between them in this bedframe to kiss him. That alone could say so many things because she’s never thought she’s had a talent for meaningful words: he is like the moon; he illuminates, he makes everything more. But he deserves more than that. When she breaks apart from him it’s only for a moment and only to hover inches from his lips as she peppers words between more kisses. ]
I love you. [ A laugh splutters from her lips, the words sounding strange and yet so familiar on her lips because she had said it in so many ways except those three words. ] And it’s so stupid because no matter what I try to compare you to, nothing will ever describe how I feel. I love you. I love you even though I don't feel deserving of your love, but for you I'll try.
[ She brings his hand to lay over her chest, pressing her forehead to his. The words that come next are clumsy, but no less earnest. Learning Almyran had been a difficult endeavor when there was no one to teach it to her and she had wanted to keep it a surprise. The last thing she had expected was for it to come out like this. ]
My moon. My heart. I adore you with everything that I am.
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There is, of course, the ever present desire to banter back about the idea of being deserving and how Hilda is applying it to herself. Claude lets it go. Decides for now it doesn't matter when there's the same words back for each of them to hold onto that makes the long road to get here and all it's taken for both of them to know the other means it as each of those kisses are returned if he doesn't beat her to another one first when happiness is far more distracting.
It takes him a moment to place what she's saying next, if only because it's been so long since he's heard Almyran spoken by anyone other than himself. To hear Hilda speak it now - the words filter through his surprise before they fully register. Surprise which is plain on his face momentarily though once the language he knows so well clicks as does the recognition Hilda's taken the time to learn it to tell him this, it quickly softens. Whatever was there before melts into an expression full of affection and love, unguarded in its entirety as Claude has to take a moment to swallow back the tightness that's formed in the back of his throat. ]
My love, you are already everything I ever wanted.
[ The words are carefully chosen and spoken to make sure they're enunciated and not lost in hoarseness from sentiment he's not entirely successful from keeping out as it slips in anyway. The same for not getting misplaced in between their lips, not until he leans down for another slow kiss with no less intensity behind it as though it'll transfer those words if they weren't understood. To pass on all the rest waiting to be said for the time they still have, to seal them with another promise. Now that they've been said, it feels all the sillier to him that he'd waited years upon years to voice them beyond hiding them in touches, looks, and any number of smaller things he knew she'd love like they could ever be a proper substitute when they should have been a supplement all along.
It's a lot to put into a kiss, but he means to. Until Claude interrupts it to pull back just enough so Hilda can see the amused look on his face. ]
And how long, exactly, have you been planning to drop learning Almyran on me out of nowhere?
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Worry lingers in the back of her mind - about butchering what she's said or completely saying the wrong thing and misconstruing her feelings - and a part of her waits for laughter at at her to follow the surprise. Instead his expression melts into something akin to the ones that are quickly becoming so familiar and precious to her. It's one that she knows in her heart of hearts that she'll never tire of seeing.
It takes her a moment to piece together what he's saying. Almyran is beautiful on its own when it isn't being absolutely butchered by her attempts. But it's made more so coming from him and the meaning behind the words that she manages to understand which is only further solidified by the intent in his kiss. It is a promise filled with intent, one that she intends to give and keep right back. When they parts it's with no amount of small reluctance on her part. ]
Maybe a couple of months. [ She nuzzles her nose against his, a tender, somewhat shy smile, flitting to her lips as she catches her breath from the kiss. ] Is this the part where you tell me my pronunciation was awful?
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[ No hesitation before that answer as if he's really weighing up some sort of supposed consequence here in the wake of knowing not even he'd managed to hide what this had meant to him. A final tearing down of whatever guards he'd had remaining, and ones he's not sorry to see go nor is the desire to put them back into place anywhere near being on his mind. There's nothing about that he wants to criticize even playfully when the meaningfulness behind the gesture could never be forgotten.
It's tempting to continue to stay right here and continue basking in the glow of her smile as warm as any sunlight, but Claude lets a thoughtful expression cross his face like something's just occurred to him. Like it's not going to be recognizable to her as yet another one of his usual ploys from being used so many times before, but he doesn't linger where he is. He'd been interrupted in what he was doing before, after all.
So it's easy, then, to bend again to drag his lips along her jaw as if picking just where to stop before skimming teeth just as lightly along the curve of her throat down to her collarbone as if still deciding. At the same time he shifts the hand on her back down along it, another deliberate trail moving even slower southward to catch the hem of what she's wearing to run it between his fingertips with no particular rush in any of his movements with the words pressed into her skin in between leisurely kisses left behind. ]
Or maybe later. I can think of other things I'd rather do first.
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[ Whatever feigned whine that would normally make an appearance in the wake of supposed criticism is swallowed by gentle intake of breath as he journeys south along her warm skin. As his mouth skims her jaw she bares his neck to him, a motion she's done so many times before in the past. There has never been a need for her to be so closely guarded, even physically, or to think twice about baring herself like that. Even if she had, the time for hesitation for that has long since passed because it's always felt so natural and right with him.
The sentiment that had danced across her mind and settled on her heart so many months ago when they had made up in the spa remains ever present and truthful now: so much of her is his. Wholly, and fully, in this timeline or whatever timeline lay before them. Something else makes that thought soar as she feels his fingers tease the hem of her thin slip: she can start to believe that he feels the same too.
Her hands trace long lines down the lines of his neck, fingernails scraping lightly against the planes of his chest. A pleased noise hums from her throat as she feigns innocence. ]
Other things like what exactly?
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Like this one, also, as Claude nudges the strap of her slip off her shoulder until it falls slack to the side and out of his way. Better for leaving more kisses behind as if he's decided to cover everywhere he can with a kiss as a small shiver of pleased delight runs its way down his spine as her hands move across him with the light scratch of fingernails in turn. All the more reason to switch to open mouth kisses as he shifts down to reach the curve of her breasts without moving her nightgown away.
Claude distracts himself when he lets her hem fall from his fingers to instead run those fingertips along her skin beneath in a lazy pattern winding to nowhere in particular. No rush in taking time to map out what he knows from touch alone or to trade it for sight (yet) all over again with touch varying to featherlight as he moves over her hip. ]
I suppose that depends on whether I should tell you or show you.
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Indulgence is something she’s found herself grappling with as their time spent in Abraxas has gone on. Being selfish has proven to be a hurtful thing not necessarily to her, but those around her. And where she had once been able to turn a blind eye to the consequences, time, both during a time of war and then briefly as a god, has taught her that there was a time and place for both. She would always be selfish and she knew that. Digging her claws into those she deemed as hers would always be instinctual because they were hers as much as she was theirs.
But when else would she indulge if not right now?
She settles herself back against the pillows, languidly pushing him down in the process. Her lips curl while still managing to keep that perfectly feigned innocence on her face. ]
I’ve always learned better by watching first.
headed to nsfw territory
It's with that in mind that he's content to take his time. Another part of the game they're playing and one he can play his part in. ]
And what is it you'll be learning tonight?
[ Innocence matched for innocence even as he settles himself between her legs and lets both hands slide down her sides with one at one hip and the other paused at the back of her thigh. At her hip where those hands beneath the fabric have worked it up enough to ride up to expose more skin, he leaves behind another kiss with a bit of teeth before sitting up just enough to look at her with eyes half lidded in contemplation. Only partly feigned this time, since Hilda before him is a sight distracting all in itself. ]
I seem to remember you having a few ideas we never got to.
[ That hand beneath her thigh lifts it to prop her leg against his shoulder, and as he speaks he moves the hand still beneath her slip with fingernails this time dragging against the skin beneath. This time his destination isn't so meandering as he cups her breast. With the pad of his thumb he draws unhurried circles around her nipple in touches deliberately not enough even if she moves into them as he turns his head without breaking their gaze to kiss the inside of her thigh by her knee in another intentional tease. ]
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I thought you could read my mind. And I don't really feel like I'm equipped to come up with a lesson plan.
[ The chiding is a thin veil that barely covers up the slight stutter of her breath as he drags his fingers excruciatingly along her exposed skin made all the warmer by his touch. Whining with Claude usually got her what she wanted (eventually) but she had a distinct feeling that that wasn't going to be enough for him tonight. Her body responds keenly to him just like it always had, just like it always will. At his touch her back arches as a needy sound from the back of her throat is pulled by the way his lips slowly make their way up her leg and decidedly not anywhere near where she wants it to. If he wanted to play that game then she supposed she could oblige. ]
But if you don't have any ideas in mind I could always just...
[ She never completes that sentence, her own hand trailing idly between her thighs to hoist the hem of her slip further up to expose her belly. The only fabric left in his view are her underwear and it wouldn't be difficult for him to imagine where her hands travel to next. Teasingly she drags a finger against the thin fabric, cocking her head to the side as she watches him. ]
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So is the trace of her hand in a suggestion even as she'd moved into the touch he was intentionally keeping light in what certainly isn't enough for either one of them. But his deliberate semi-stalling continues as he moves his gaze back to hers while simultaneously moving his fingers again, first to cup her breast more before no longer teasing alone but teasing her nipple with proper touch in search of more of those sounds. ]
Hmm, I think that's not clear enough. I bet you can be more specific.
[ Like wherever her hand might go next while he plays at patience with her thighs parted around him and the smallest bit of fabric left to be moved. He can wait when it will be well worth whatever her next move is, Claude decides as he moves further up her inner thigh before stopping short of the destination they both know he intends to reach. This time when he pauses again it's to slowly worry a light mark into sensitive skin, something to last until the morning and proof of a smoldering desire.
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It's his teeth against the sensitive skin of her thighs however that finally coax another soft needy sound from her. Her hips jerk involuntarily and the hand that had been teasing the quickly dampening fabric presses against herself a little harder. Hilda can't help but let out a breathy laugh as her fingers slip underneath the delicate lace of her underwear this time. A hand slips underneath the pillow behind her head, as her back arches her body quietly calling out for him in spite of what her words say otherwise. But she wouldn't give in that easily. ]
More specific? If I have to be more specific then you might have to go sit at the other end of the bed. Maybe it would inspire you or encourage you to think a little faster on your feet.
[ Her knuckles stretch the fabric as her fingers begin to play with her clit, eyes shining with that unspoken challenge. ]
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Like this end of the bed instead of where I was?
[ Asked with a heavy dose of faux innocence - of which they both know well he has none and this isn't what she meant by sitting back to watch. But Claude's choosing to find his own inspiration as he moves their fingers at pace which gets incrementally quicker every few seconds while watching her reaction considering he knows it's still not quite enough.
Which is why with a slight smirk he bends his head down, this time foregoing teasing her with his (other) hand to run his tongue over that bud of her nipple a few times in time with the strokes of her clit before pausing as he keeps their hands moving together while trailing his other fingers along her heat in more teasing than intent without further permission first. ]
Seems to be working out okay right here, unless there's something else you want.
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[ She'd huff more at his cheekiness for twisting her words in a way that best suits him in this situation, but she can't say that she's particularly bothered by it. Not when it also benefits her too. Such was the nature of their back and forth. There were few times when they were together like this that they actually meant what they said and expected the other to abide by it. And even if she wouldn't have had any problem playing with herself while he watched, it's immediately lost in the form of a pleased hum when his weight shifts and his hands come to join hers in stretching the fabric even tighter.
Any clever quip or retort is lost to his dexterous fingers and warm mouth. Every slight menstruation against her folds and clit make it increasingly difficult not to moan and buck into his touch to the point where her mind forgets that her own fingers are still there. They're simply being moved by Claude's will. Her gaze is half-lidded as the dampness and need for him between her legs grows. A flush spreads down her chest as legs tighten around his waist, her other hand finding purchase in his hair at the nape of his neck so she can draw him close and press her lips to his.
The next quick touch against her swollen clit has her head pressing back against the pillow, eyes fluttering closed. Of course he knows what she wants. But she isn't about to beg yet. He hasn't done enough for that. ]
You're awful. I thought you loved me.
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For that Hilda earns another sweep of his fingers and he's rewarded with her falling back against the pillow with a look on her face he never gets tired of memorizing. Her petulance never fails to be something he finds endearing even as he risks a breathy laugh. ]
Not doing a good enough job showing you, am I?
[ A question he's not looking for an answer to as he's admiring that flush where it stands out even in the room's dim light. Where it'd been teasing before, now his touch quickens to take over for her fingers that've lost focus. That suits him just fine as he keeps his focus on her clit to keep those smaller waves of pleasure that could be bigger still as he leans down again, but this time to murmur into her ear in a low voice. ]
Should I make it up to you by making you come now or later?
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Although her legs are wrapped securely around his waist, her fingers wound through his hair feel like a lifeline tethering her here to the present. Hilda knows that it's only a matter of time before she loses herself completely if things continue this way. As her own fingers fall to the wayside and emerge from beneath the fabric of her underwear they're slick with her desire and how much she needed him. His teasing and tactics were effective - not that either of them had any doubts.
Her fingers find purchase on her other breast, kneading it and twisting and teasing her other nipple in time with Claude's fingers. But it's his breath tickling her ear and the low cadence of his voice that has her letting out another keen from the back of her throat as her hips buck up into him. Her body demands it now, but the look she gives him from under half-lidded eyes says something else. How is she supposed to pick? ]
Claude - [ Her hips buck again as another wave of heat washes over her and she draws in a sharp breath. ] don't be mean. I'm not sure you've earned making me come now.
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No? Well, if you'd rather wait...
[ Slowing it down for just a very impatient minute is valid, right? A couple more strokes of her clit and then he withdraws his hand from her underwear and with a smirk that says he knows that's exactly what she wasn't asking for. Before she protests - with any luck - he leans down to kiss her deeply before catching her bottom lip between his teeth when he breaks it. Not long enough for his liking, but: the whole point of being difficult was with something else in mind as he reaches for her nightgown with the intent of finally taking it off her. ]
If I have to earn it, then I want back between your thighs. I'm sure I can think of something that'll count as later instead of now.
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The thought and ensuing protest he correctly guesses on her lips are captured by his muffling the unintentional whimper. Anticipation wracks her and as he pulls away it breaks as a gasp fluttering from her swollen lips. Still reeling from the loss of his touch it takes her a moment to recognize his intent. But as she props herself up on her elbows to help him remove the rest of her clothing she grabs his hand, pulling the fingers that has been playing with her clit and sucking what remained of her from them.
Gazing at him from beneath her lashes she takes her time working his fingers with her tongue. When she finally drags her lips up the length of them a thin line of spit is left in their wake. ]
Now you can earn it.
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At first when she moves he almost thinks, what with his own mind beginning to whirl even without being the one on the other end of the teasing what with orchestrating it, she's sitting up for another kiss. Something he leans forward for in a near surrender to keeping her beneath him like this, but then she takes his hand. If Claude thought he'd been engrossed before, the rest of the room fades away now to nothing but her gaze pinned on his as she works over his fingers in a way which makes him ache.
Fitting considering he'd just done the same to her and by the time she releases his hand there's something between a strangled laugh, a breathless curse, and a groan which rumbles its way out of the back of his throat. ]
Has anyone ever told you you're very convincing?
[ He might have before. There's no pretending it's not with a swiftness he lowers himself to her hips after unwinding her legs from around him. With a practiced move Claude skims both hands down her lower back to her ass for a gratuitous squeeze before hooking his fingers into her underwear to tug them down. Even moving with quickness won't stop him from skimming his mouth along her thigh he hadn't teased before along the way, just to make sure he earns it. ]
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You have, actually.
[ There's a rumble of a laugh in her voice, a smugness to it that says quite plainly that she knows she can be when she chooses to exercise that power she apparently has over select individuals, present company included. There's no time to linger on that however. Not when she's given him a command and he moves to act on it.
A spark jolts through her as he moves with the motivation of a man on a mission. She barely has time to kick her underwear off to the side of the bed where she'll likely have to search for them in the morning before letting out a soft keen at the touch of his lips to her thighs. A hand finds purchase on her nipple, playing and teasing herself as she settles back onto the pillows to watch. ]
But I wouldn't mind hearing it again.
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