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A quiet, shuddering breath slipped past their lips like something inside was letting them go. He couldn't fight the grin that pulled his lips as they leaned forward ever so slightly, chasing his lips, and the brief flicker of disappointment when they came up empty. Their eyelids fluttered open, staring up at him with stars reflecting back at him. They were confused and worried - wondering if they did something wrong. They were Hylian; unaccustomed to all of the Gerudo's beliefs and social intricacies. Had they broken some law about kissing the King, even if he was the one who asked in as soft a voice he'd ever used if he could please, please kiss them. It would be the only time he begged, he'd make sure of it. And yet, for that brief brush, that whisper of a kiss, he found suddenly that he would not mind dropping to his knees and pleading for just one more.
He stroked the pad of his thumb across their cheek. They relaxed into the touch, eyes closing as they leaned into his large palm. Worry was replaced with ease, quickly. They didn't do something wrong. He simply could not stop himself from admiring how the desert moonlight danced across their skin. If he didn't know better, he would have confused them for a deity.
Golden eyes glanced at their mouth, still parted, waiting for his to find their place. Soft puffs of white air dissipated between them, carried into the night. It was freezing out here. His oversized robe draped loosely around their shoulders, half of the heavy fabric pooling on the sandstone floor around their feet.
A flicker of possessiveness lit up within him. He was the only one allowed to care for them so; the only one allowed to dress them in his belongings and show all of Hyrule who he wished to be his.
"Say you will be mine," he whispered. Dark eyes, almost red with desire, greeted them as they opened their eyes to look up at the Gerudo King.
A small, soft hand, un-calloused from the desert sands, pressed against his, holding his hand more firmly to their cheek. "I'm yours, my King."
His lips find theirs once more, but this time it is not the careful, hesitant touch from before. Now it was burning, demanding, rough. He pulled their face in as close as he could, lips and teeth sucking and biting and pulling until their lips are red and swollen against his. Every soft, desperate mewl from their throat eggs him on. He wants nothing more than all of Hyrule to know who they belong to, and he will not stop until he is certain everyone knows his name screamed in their voice.