Short Smuts
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Summary
Just staring at him from the darkness was pleasurable, that dark, forbidden kind of pleasure, settling in my lower abdomen with a hot weight. I could have pounced on him right then, but as he moved out of sight, I decided to give myself — and him — a few more moments of that thrilling anticipation.
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The attractive, wealthy, and well-born medic delights in his solitude at his country manor and looks forward only to a late bath. It would be regrettable if someone were lurking in the shadows, intending to lay dirty, undeserving hands on him.
Series
- Part 1 of Short Smuts
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He feels a touch of warm, slightly rough fingers, tracing the drops of water flowing down his skin, and it is also pleasant, really pleasant. Not just the touch itself, but the sense that someone is touching him as if they have every right to, without question. Just a filthy scoundrel, yet places hand on his knee without hesitation, then slowly slides it upwards, towards the inside of his thigh. “Yes, please, touch me more…” Librus thinks, though he can’t imagine saying something like that out loud. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to, because this idiot seems to understand it intuitively too.
Anxiety & fluff & retrospections & sex & feelings & more anxiety & more sex & fellings in the end. Oh well.
Series
- Part 2 of Short Smuts
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The pleasure had been building, gradually, ever since they stood naked in front of the mirror and reached for the burgundy dress. The feel of silk sliding over skin. The scent of perfume chosen carefully for the occasion. The scratch of the hairbrush against the scalp. The conversations at the banquet, the music, the glances thrown their way. The sense of triumph. The sense of control. Watching him. Watching her. Taste, scent, sound. Power. All the plotting, all the preparation, all the imagining… That had all led here. That all fed into this mounting pleasure.
Series
- Part 3 of Short Smuts