Work Text:
Oh, how fiercely you loved him.
How ardently you loved his slightly dishevelled, golden hair, the eyes shining with excitement whenever his gaze landed upon you with all its adoring weight, the perfectly cut lips, so soft and warm against yours, the strong lines of his cheekbones and jaw, the way his hands danced against your skin, looking for more, longing to touch you endlessly. You loved his smile, the small dimple appearing from time to time, the sound of his voice, always velvet and gentle whenever addressed to you, the feeling of his breath against your neck he has just showered with hungry kisses. You loved how eccentric and provocative he was, how his greed was never wholly satisfied, how he constantly craved more and more—how did his love taste, enveloped with the silence and your rapid heartbeats.
Slowly, you withdrew, still cupping his face in your hands and caressing it with the thumbs. Involuntarily your gaze ghosted down, from his heavenly long eyelashes, through the nose, to the mouth and the visible proof of your crime. Red lipstick, the one you decided to wear for tonight’s party was smeared across his lips—and ironically, it matched perfectly with the crimson of his eyes.
Swallowing hard, you felt the faint taste of wine and brushed a finger against the corner of his lips in a fruitless attempt to wipe the lipstick off. Not that you really wanted to, for it was a truly enjoyable sight, the great Count of Vesuvia marked by you in such a delicious way. Moreover, you were certain that your face could not possibly look more presentable than his, you could clearly assume it considering how blissfully assaulted your lips were by his kisses. There was a silence between you two, the distant music coming from the main hall floor below, now seeming as far away as any other universe could be. Right now, the only thing that truly mattered was how your thighs were closed around Lucio’s hips and how little space there was between your heated bodies.
Noticing your lustful gaze, he smiled and run his knuckle down your cheek.
“Is there something you like?” His voice was low and quiet, unusually stoic, considering the position you were currently in. Surely some guests must have noticed his sudden disappearance and it was only the matter of time when your secret would be discovered.
Resting your arms on his shoulders, you let your fingers flow through the platinum hair, happily accepting the strong embrace on your waist when he brought you even closer to himself.
“I reckon that red suits you well, Sir,” you whispered and tucked few strands behind his ear.
“Is that so?” Lucio murmured against your skin, his wet longue leaving a trail on the line of your collarbone.
“Indeed…”
He muttered something you could not comprehend, not with your mind fogged with desire when he kissed, licked and sucked your skin, breathing in the scent of your perfume and body, the cool metal of his left hand teasing the thin hair at the back of your neck and causing the shivers to run down your spine. It never failed to amaze you how gentle he could be with you, treating you with the utter care, even if barely a few moments ago he was duelling with a heavy sword in the hand. How could he change so abruptly, spilling blood in one second and showering you with butterfly kisses in the next one. How could he cherish you and your body in exactly the way you needed him to, how could he know all your soft spots, both in the flesh and soul, how did he manage to close you firmly in his grasp with no intention of you ever escaping.
How you loved him…
“Lucio…?” A broken whisper left past your lips and the only answer you received was a muted: ‘hmm?’ and a quiet buss at the crook of your neck. “It’s getting late.”
He chuckled and peeked at you mischievously.
“And what of it?” Red lipstick still remained on his skin, now tainting your shoulder too in a delicious marks. “Did you forget that I’m the Count and therefore I’m free to do as I please?”
“How could I.” You stole a featherlike kiss from him. “I’m simply worried of your reputation.”
“My reputation is not your concern and I can assure you that it’s doing more than fine.”
You could argue with that but decided not to, not in such an intimate moment you could finally share after whole weeks of neglecting your feelings and pretending that you did not think about each other way more than you would like to admit.
“If you say so,” you eventually gave up and leaned in to tease his upper lip with your tongue, not expecting him to delicately catch yours in between his teeth and to pull a little.
His hot breath burned against you, carefully done makeup completely irrelevant as the fierce passion subdued you wholly, and the red lipstick smeared on the Count’s lips like a confession you were hesitant to speak out loud. You were right in your previous statement, red truly suited him well—your love did, too.
And gods knew that you loved him dearly.