Chapter Text
Your clammy fingers clutched the steering wheel of your car as your navigation cheerily announced that you were five minutes from your destination. Over the last thirty minutes of your trip, you hadn’t seen many cars other than the occasional military vehicle, tan and green trucks that rumbled past your modest little sedan. Your chest tightened; you were getting close.
Your last turn brought you past the brick retaining walls that lined the perimeter. A metal sign confirmed that you’d reached the right place, and when you passed through the open gate, you saw the expanse of buildings inside the compound.
You turned into the nearly-empty parking lot, eyeing the entrance to the base. It didn’t seem like much, not too scary or intimidating. You hadn’t known what to expect, but your mind had conjured up rows of armed men and women, barbed wire. The reality was a lot more unassuming — you breathed a sigh of relief.
You swiped to exit your navigation app, the robotic voice insistent that you turn left even though you were already there. But…now what? Did you just walk in and go find Simon? He hadn’t given you specific instructions to follow once you got here. Maybe he should have.
You type a quick message to Simon to let him know you’d arrived.
You waited a little bit, fiddling with the label of the water bottle sitting in the cupholder. Your eyes scanned the building entrances, and widened when you noticed a uniformed man step outside the door. Your pulse kicked up when his gaze turned in your direction. It wasn’t Simon — he wasn’t nearly as big, but the man leaned forward in the doorway as if trying to see if he recognized you or your car. Unease began to roll within your gut, and you decided to send another message to Simon.
You lifted your gaze to the entrance and began to type a more frantic message as the man began to walk your way. But before you could hit send, a loud tap-tap-tap to your window jolted your attention upward, and you met the sunglasses-covered gaze of the man standing beside your car. He held a baton lightly in his hand, and your eyes dropped to the handgun and cuffs at his belt. You swallowed hard and rolled down the window just enough to talk to him, a tight smile stretched across your face.
“Afternoon,” he said casually, dipping his head to peek in your car. “Can I help you with something?”
“Hello,” you said, voice higher pitched than you intended. “Um, yes, well — I’m visiting someone here.”
The man tilted his head toward the entrance to the building. “Come on, then.”
You stepped out of your car, grabbing your backpack, then followed him on shaky legs. You glanced at your phone one last time to see if Simon had replied. He hadn’t. Just inside the building was a checkpoint, the hallway lined with metal detectors and guarded by another well-armed man with dark hair cropped short. You did as they instructed, pulling your keys and phone out of your pocket and placing them in a little tray as you stepped through the archway. The green light above it lit up; all clear.
“I need to see some I.D.,” the second man said, reaching out to you.
You dug in your wallet and pulled it out, fidgeting from foot to foot as the other handed you a sticker with the word ‘visitor’ typed across it.
“Who are you here to see?” the one with your ID asked, squinting at the plastic card.
Your stomach dropped and your mouth immediately went dry. All you had was Simon’s first name — and you weren’t even sure if it was even his real one. “Simon,” you said, the end of the word turning up more like a question.
The two men looked at each other, sharing a disbelieving look before returning their attention to you.
“Simon? As in, Lieutenant Riley? Ghost?” brown hair asked, his eyebrows raised as he pressed your driver’s license back into your hand.
You licked your dry lips with an even drier tongue. “Yes,” you answered, even less confident of this answer than the first.
The two exchanged another look and you busied yourself with unpeeling the visitor sticker from the backing and placing it on the chest of your jacket. You avoided their gaze as you smoothed the label down, pressing each corner of the sticker down carefully. Maybe you’d done the wrong thing, or you should have asked to meet somewhere else. It was hard to tell why the two seemed so unnerved by your presence.
“Hm,” the shorter of the two mused. “We’ll have to confirm that. Visitors aren’t allowed to just wander through unaccompanied. This is a secure facility. The Lieutenant has never received visitors here. He has much more important…”
The man’s voice trailed off as his eyes slipped from you to focus on something just behind you. You turned around to find Simon standing, leaning against the entrance to the hallway to the left. His posture was relaxed, arms crossed over his chest. His skull mask hid his features, but his dark eyes shone through, fixed on you, boring right into you.
Relief surged through you and a smile spread across your face, your cheeks warming. He was there, just in the nick of time. Your heart constricted, the thread connecting you two tugging, tightening at the sight of him.
Simon tilted his head toward the hallway in a wordless command, and with one last glance at the two guards, you shuffled forward toward him. The stunned guards let you go, and without further pretense, Simon turned down the hall as you scurried to catch up. Energy tingled beneath your skin, as if every atom of your being was waiting for him to speak or touch you, something, anything. But all you saw was the expanse of his back as you followed him away from the entrance, the black T-shirt stretched across the muscles of his back and shoulders.
You clenched your fists at your side, fingers remembering what it felt like to grip handfuls of that back, to drag your nails across it, clinging to him in front of you while König pressed against you from behind. You were sure that more of… that was in store for you this weekend, but more than anything, you were excited to just see them again, to bury your face in warm chests and thick necks, to be tangled in well-muscled limbs. The squeak of boots on linoleum echoed through the hall as another man passed you both, the sound pulling your train of thought back to the moment.
When you rounded the corner, Simon slowed, allowing you to catch up to him, your much shorter steps covering less distance than his. As you approached his side, his gloved hand brushed against your fingers as his arms swung lightly at his sides. You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, but he barely even acknowledged you, his eyes straight ahead.
Sweat prickled beneath your arms; had you done something wrong? Or was he just different here on base, his demeanor even more serious? But when his hand bumped yours again, his leather-clad thumb intentionally grazed your soft fingers, you realized what he was doing.
You slipped your small hand into his palm surreptitiously, squeezing twice as you tilted your head to look at him. Simon’s eyes were dark beneath his mask, but a return squeeze reassured you. Joy sparked within your chest, and you couldn’t hide the smile that spread across your face.
You were here. He was here.
Simon led you down a few more turns and stopped before a door near the end of the next hallway. He released your hand and slipped a set of keys out of his pocket to unlock the door. Your heart pounded, quick but sure, sending ringing pulses through your ears. All you could think about was the other night, what had awaited you as soon as you had entered the apartment with him — hands near-bruising with their passion, teeth and lips claiming you, leading you, his body pressed up against yours.
You stared at your feet, wiggling your toes self-consciously as the tumblers and bolts of the lock clicked. Simon was almost cold towards you right now, not having spoken a single word over the entire walk. You had foolishly thought it would be like one of those romance movies, finally reunited and swept off your feet, his mouth on yours, devouring you, to be shown something that resembled happiness — not this.
Simon opened the door and reached for your hand once more, pulling you inside, gently but urgently. The door hadn’t even closed before Simon wrapped his thick arms around you, pulling you to his chest in a crushing bear hug. All the thin, tight tension you’d been holding since the drive — really since the night they left — finally shattered, and you sagged in his arms.
You didn’t trust yourself to keep it together while looking at him, so you nuzzled in more deeply against the soft cotton of his shirt, enjoying the swell of pecs beneath your cheek while you wrapped your trembling arms around him. The scent of him pulled you into the moment, crisp evergreen and mountain air cutting through the scent of smoke that clung lightly to his clothes.
In the privacy of his room, you sensed a change in him. His carefully guarded exterior slipped just enough for you to feel him, the softer side of him that you’d seen before, the man who had made you breakfast and comforted you through goodbyes. You hugged him more tightly. Simon shifted until a gloved hand rested against your cheek, bringing with it the scent of leather and smoke, gunpowder and metal. He slid a finger beneath your chin, encouraging you to tilt your face back to meet his gaze.
In the golden afternoon light streaming into the room, his brown eyes were honeyed, soft, and inviting, framed by blonde lashes. The black paint over his lids had been spread in a thin, even, layer, not creased like it had been that night you met him. His thumb stroked the soft skin along your jaw, the nerves beneath his touch waking, chilling, tingling as cool as the beads of morning dew on grass.
“It’s good to see you again, love,” he murmured, lips moving beneath the cloth of his mask, the sound rumbling within his chest. “I’m glad you came.”
You smiled and your eyes welled up with moisture, but you blinked it away until it gathered in the corners of your eyes, spilling down one side of your face. “Me too.”
His thumb brushed over your cheek, capturing the drop before it hit your jawline. “None of that, now,” he said, voice a raspy whisper.
Simon pushed up the very bottom of his mask, just enough to reveal a stubbled jaw and full, pink lips, a little chapped. You lifted your gaze to his eyes again and your pulse kicked up when you saw how earnestly he looked at you, sharing everything he’d been holding back. Then, amidst the clamoring of your heart against your ribcage, he leaned down to press his lips to yours. His kiss was…surprisingly delicate, tentative. It was far from the first time you’d kissed, but it may as well have been, as soft and sweet as it was.
The imploring peck was a stark contrast against the bulky man before you, capable of so much more — but he gave you just a taste, a sliver of what you knew he could offer you. This was tempered passion, honed into something smoother and more contained than you remembered, but the edges of it were still frayed with thinly-veiled want.
You breathed a contented sigh into his mouth, silently begging for more, tilting your head back to better accept him, letting him lead wherever he wanted — you would follow him anywhere. The cushion of his mouth was a perfect fit for yours, sharing the taste of smoke and promise. Your hand slid up the firm plane of his torso to his shoulders and neck, fingers dipping just under the bunched-up edge of his mask, fingertips grazing the tufted ends of blonde hair that jutted out the bottom.
Simon pushed his lips to yours more firmly as he stepped back with you, his movements smooth, like a dance, your steps mimicking his until your back bumped against the wall beside the door. He slipped his hand past your cheek, over your ear and raked it through your hair, cupping the base of your neck possessively. His knee slid between yours and you leaned into him with a whimper, your need already rising to the surface.
But, before you could seek relief against his thigh, before you could enjoy the exquisite scrape of his teeth against your neck, Simon disentangled his hand from your hair and pulled away from you. He traced your bottom lip with his gloved thumb, smearing the slick from his kisses. Your lips parted at his touch and you blinked as you looked up at him, doe-eyed.
“So goddamn sweet. Christ. Look at you,” he murmured as he took in the sight of you, all flushed cheeks and reddened lips. “But we can’t get too far ahead of ourselves just yet. I’ve got a bit more work to do this afternoon. Sorry, princess — do you think you can wait here for me?”
You pulled one corner of your mouth down into a frown, heart thumping in your chest as you descended from the high of the moment. “Yeah,” you nodded. “How long?”
Simon shrugged. “Not long. But I told König you’d be here. Once he’s free, I’m sure he’ll be right over.” His shoulders slumped a bit as he examined your crestfallen face. “I know. It’s not much, but you can make yourself at home.”
He slipped an arm around you in a hasty embrace and you nodded against his chest, then watched him leave. Just reunited, and you were already watching him leave again.
At least this time, you knew he’d be back.
The door clicked shut behind you and you stepped into the room, hands on your hips as you looked around. The room was small, not much more than a studio apartment or dorm. A tiny kitchen was crammed into one corner, loaded with a microwave and range that seemed too tiny to be practical. An electric kettle was tucked back on the counter with a single mug beside it. Something about that lone cup made your chest ache, made you long for things that you didn’t know how to verbalize.
Beside the kitchen was a table covered with a few small stacks of papers. Two chairs were pushed into it, seemingly much too small to fit a man as large as Simon comfortably. You stepped further inside the room, brushing your fingers over his bed, the covers tucked in perfectly, the corners folded in with precision. You practically tiptoed around, feeling like you were somehow intruding, snooping even though he had permitted you to be here.
The room was mostly barren with little decor to speak of; he probably didn’t spend much time here. Though there were tiny touches that reminded you that this was his room. A pair of flannel pajama pants was folded neatly at the foot of the bed, a jacket hung on the hook beside the door. A tiny succulent perched on the windowsill in a terracotta pot, its green petals plump and well-cared for. You smiled. He didn’t seem like the type of person to care for plants; but you loved the idea.
Every corner of the room now explored, you sat on the edge of the bed, kicking your dangling feet back and forth as you waited. This is how you had imagined Ghost when he had called you last night, sitting somewhere just like this, hunched, smoking —
alone.
You let yourself fall back onto the mattress, legs still bent and hanging over the side as you stared up at the ceiling. Your mind wandered to what day-to-day life was like here for him, for König. You shifted your position on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position. The metal bed frame and thin, lumpy mattress couldn’t be very cozy for either of them, especially as big as they were.
You heard a loud thumping in the hallway, urgent footsteps, then the doorknob jiggled. You immediately sat upright. It was too soon for Simon to be back — but he had said that König knew you were here. The door swung inward and König ducked his hooded head beneath the frame as he entered, his chest rising and falling deeply as he regained his breath. Your blood turned to ice water in your veins as he scanned the room, sweeping across it until his gaze rested on you.
For a moment, he just stood there, eyes locked on yours, holding you in place with his stare. You wanted to say hi, to break the silence, but your throat had seized up. Instead, you forced your frozen muscles to move and you jumped up off the bed and stood, taking in the sight of him, dark boots laced tightly over canvas pants, a matching jacket over it all. Your arms lifted a little, fingers curling, beckoning him, all you could muster.
He took several loping steps forward to meet you, immediately lifting you off your feet in a crushing hug, stealing the breath from your lungs — not that you minded. You relished the solidness and smell of him, breathing in warmth and peppery spice and clove. Your feet touched the ground when he finally let you down, but his hands never left you, one on your shoulder, the other cupping your cheek.
“Hi,” you said in a small, breathy voice, finally finding the ability to squeeze the word past your tight throat.
“Hi,” he replied thickly, sounding just as choked up as you felt.
His thumb brushed the top of your cheek gently with the calloused pad of his finger. It reminded you of when he said goodbye last week. But this time, the stroke was full of promise, unspoken longing, and wanting. You leaned into his palm, your cheeks warming the longer he touched you this way.
“I was worried this week when you didn’t call or message the Lieutenant right away,” König said, pale blue eyes gleaming with moisture, voice subtly cracking and wobbling. “I thought perhaps you had changed your mind about us or…or that something had happened to you.”
Your brow furrowed. “No, nothing like that. I was thinking about both of you all week.” Your gaze lowered, unable to maintain the intensity of his stare. “Simon said to think it over and…I wanted to do it properly. Y’know?” you mumbled, surprised to feel pressure swell behind your eyes as dampness grew in the corners.
You blinked and scrunched your nose, annoyed with yourself — you’d never cried so easily before. But the depth of everything you’d done and wanted to say and do welled up within you, threatening to spill out down your cheeks. Somehow, you held it back a bit longer.You took a deep breath as König continued to brush his thumb against the flushed skin of your cheek, encouraging you to continue.
“Simon said that you two were worried about me if we did… this, if I’d be in danger or be unhappy, but…I want this. I had to come to see you.”
König tilted your chin back to face him, twin aquamarines glimmering behind the dark folds of his hood. “It’s a good thing you did,” he said, voice husky. “Another night without hearing from you and I may have escaped from base to find you myself.”
You smiled as he released your shoulder to tuck the bottom of his hood out of the way, revealing his scarred jaw, cleanly shaven, and soft lips turned up into a gentle smile. He bent his face into the crook of your neck, hunching over at what had to be an uncomfortable angle for him. You slid your hands up his biceps and shoulders before wrapping them around his back, gripping him tightly on your tiptoes.
He stayed like this for a few beats, face buried in your hair before he brushed the tresses away from your neck and placed his lips against you. Warm kisses were dotted along the slender column of your neck, leaving tiny wet spots as he moved. Pressure built within your tummy, gentle at first, but growing tighter, more insistent, the need that Simon had begun to stoke flaring bright.
You rolled your neck to the side to allow König better access, and he claimed that space and more, kissing you hungrily, leaving no spot untouched. The skin of your collarbone warmed beneath his breath and lips, the sensation spreading, sinking deep into you where it gathered and grew with your wanting.
A small, soft moan escaped you unbidden, already feeling yourself being tugged beneath the surface, losing yourself in the moment. König dragged his lips and teeth across your exposed throat as if he could capture those noises and keep them all to himself before they passed your lips. He mapped the line of your jaw, his path curving upward toward your chin, and finally pressed his lips to yours, the unspoken word loud and clear —
mine.
You smiled against his mouth, tasting the familiar mint essence of chapstick, relishing the soft, plush skin against yours. Your tongue poked out to swipe against his lower lip in invitation, rolling over a small ridge of scar. König’s breathing grew heavier, and his hands slid lower down your back, wandering the swell of your hips to cup your bottom. He squeezed and kneaded you as his tongue pushed against yours, seamlessly taking the control you willingly offered.
König stepped backward with you until the backs of your knees bumped the edge of the mattress. You broke away from the kiss and licked your lips, savoring the taste of him, still absorbing that this moment, this reunion was real. He laid his large hand on your shoulder, coaxing you to sit on the edge of the bed. When you looked up at him, still standing, your breath froze in your chest at the sight.
You knew the size of him — all of him — intimately, but the absence had been enough to forget the true impact of his mountainous form. He completely towered over you, especially from this sitting position. You were nearly at eye level with his groin, seeing the thick outline of his cock pushing against the confines of the canvas that contained it. You could have continued staring, letting your imagination run to dirty places — but you forced yourself to look up. Your chin had to tilt back so far to meet his eyes, finding a spark of hunger there, the carnal appetite you recognized in his heavy-lidded gaze.
The way he looked at you made you feel even smaller than you were, and your mouth ran dry. König knelt before you, somehow still so much bigger than you. His large hand splayed out over your chest and slowly, he guided you to lay back on Simon’s bed. Your back hit the mattress with a squeak of springs and you clenched and unclenched your hands around the covers. Your palms were cool and clammy as you grabbed and released fistfuls of the blankets, your breath growing thin in anticipation.
His hands slid down your abdomen, over the soft material of your T-shirt to rest on your thighs. Your muscles trembled and quaked beneath his scarred palms, a shaking that he had to notice too. König’s eyes flicked down your body, and your muscles tightened at the way he drank in your clothed form.
It wasn’t fear or intimidation, but a shyness, a remaining streak of uncertainty that caused your body to tense, your thighs to clamp together, to hide yourself from him. You tried to release that feeling, but it clung to you, seeped into your skin.
König’s fingers eased their grip on your legs, instead stroking swirling patterns along the tops and sides before reaching for your hand. He clicked his tongue when his fingers found their way into your palm, finding the cool moisture there, evidence of your unease.
“Little one,” he said softly, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. “Have I been too forward?” König frowned. “We do not have to do anything at all.”
“N-No, I’m okay,” you said, feeling breathless, overwhelmed at the range of emotions you’d cycled through all week. “Just, I don’t know, I’m feeling kind of nervous. I’ve wanted this all week,” you admitted. “Still want it now. I…d-don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you said, voice growing quieter in shame. “Sorry.”
You had built this moment up in your mind, hoping for an explosive and passionate reunion — not this. Your body clenched and tightened, completely at war with your mind and spirit, clutching onto the tiny sliver of nervousness. You wanted this badly, you did, but it was so much at once, and you were still processing it all, your phone call with Simon overnight, your run-in with the guards, this.
“Mm,” König hummed, understanding. “Nothing is wrong with you. Perhaps you need a bit of time to get used to my touch again. Hm?” His fingers traveled down your legs, over your knees. “Is this alright?”
You nodded against the blankets, already feeling yourself sink more deeply into the covers, soothed by stroking fingertips working circles along the lengths of your thighs, sending tingling waves of static cascading over you. The light touch occasionally pressed down, massaging thumbs pressing into you, coaxing your muscles to relax.
“Mm, like that. Easy,” he encouraged when you let out a soft, breathy sigh. “Sehr gut. There’s my girl.”
My girl.
Your eyes closed as you descended into the moment, all of your attention honed in on his touch, on the gentle words König murmured from time to time, not rushing this, savoring every second that his fingertips contacted your clothes body. The tension in your legs released bit by bit, his fingers asking, gently seeking as they slid back up your shins to slide toward your inner thighs. You answered the query in his touch without words, inching your thighs apart to allow his hands more room.
But, he didn’t touch you where you were beginning to ache, despite the way you lifted your hips toward him off the bed in invitation. Instead, his fingers veered upward, hooking into the waistband of your leggings. Pale blue eyes met yours, waiting for you to stop him — but you wouldn’t.
He tugged, freeing your hips from the tight material and pulled the garment off your legs and over your feet. König let out an appreciative groan at the sight of you, spread before him. His eyes were glued to your panties — nothing too fancy, just soft grey cotton, a tiny white bow at the center of the waistband. When you felt the chill of the cooler room air against your clothed heat, you knew he wouldn’t miss the sight of the dampness there, the thin material unable to contain your arousal.
“Shit,” he breathed, letting his palm rest on your thigh, almost dwarfing it with how large his hand was.
König’s hand glided downward, a single finger touching the darkened spot on your panties. The material molded into the shape of you where he pressed in gently, the cotton clinging to you. You licked your lips as you watched him, completely entranced by you. His eyes lifted slowly to meet yours over the planes of your body, the folds of his hood shifting.
“You’re really here,” he said, hand pushing the hem of your shirt up, calloused palm dragging against the soft skin of your abdomen.
“Yeah,” you smiled.
König lowered his mouth to your waistband and gripped the lace edge between his teeth, tugged the material away from your body, then let it go with a gently stinging ‘snap.’ He sank down and positioned himself between your thighs once more. Your hands lowered down to slip your panties off and allow him to see you — all of you. But he guided your hands away, pushing them firmly back into the covers.
Your brow furrowed in question, but he dipped his head down and peppered your inner thigh with kisses, small, tantalizing presses of his lips, soon followed by his tongue and teeth, nipping at your sensitive skin. He mouthed your mound through the damp cloth and let his hands slip behind your hips to grab the plush of your bottom. He squeezed and nibbled you, your slick and his saliva leaving dark wet spots on the soft material of your underwear.
Your fingers twitched, wanting to bare yourself and get the relief you truly wanted, but König was in no rush. He ground his hips into the side of the bed as he worked, a low groan rumbling deep within his throat as he breathed in the natural scent of you. From the rough noises he made, you could tell he was thoroughly enjoying this, savoring the moment, savoring you.
The tiny pulse between your thighs grew more insistent, your hips searching for his mouth every time he moved away to suck a mouthful of your thigh. You’d been unsure at the beginning — but there was no shred of hesitance left. For what felt like the hundredth time, he pulled away, the fingers dancing along the edges of your panties only to flee, leaving you wanting.
“König, please,” you groaned, wiggling your hips against the bed for good measure.
“Such a desperate little thing,” he said, a gentle smile spreading across his lips at your needy tone.
To your relief, he listened to your request. His hands gripped your waistband and pulled your panties down over your legs, revealing the glistening evidence of your need. He trailed a slender finger through your wetness, dragging it up to circle your clit, the tiny bud already swollen and begging for his touch. After he drew a few lazy arches across it, he slid those slick digits back downward.
König spread you gently with two fingers, exposing all of you to him. His breath was cool against your most sensitive parts, and the tickle of the air caused goosebumps to prickle down your legs and over your bare stomach. When you tried to lift your hips to him again, his free hand gripped your hip and pushed you into the mattress, keeping you in place.
“C’mon,” you whined.
“So impatient,” he teased. “I do not want to rush.”
He kissed all around you, your lower tummy, thighs, hips, navel, literally everywhere but where you needed it, his lips teasing and tempting — exquisite, delicious torture. A small rush of arousal trickled down your slit as your inner muscles clenched, the hot, aching coil within you wound tightly, desperate for release. Just as you felt that you couldn’t take anymore, he stooped down and flicked your clit with his tongue once, twice, an immediate shockwave shooting through you.
Your body jerked up in response, sensitive from the anticipation, an obscene and broken noise slipping from your mouth despite your earlier resolution to stay quiet. He licked a long stripe up the length of your pussy and your hands shot down to the fabric of his hood, trying to guide him down, keep him there, now, forever. His lips pressed flush to your body, sucking your clit until the tiny bundle of nerves swelled in his mouth.
He resisted your attempt to restrain him and pulled away for just a moment, mumbling against you. “Is this what you wanted?”
“Yes,” you hissed as he resumed, flattening his tongue against you, stroking with the perfect amount of pressure. “Fuck. P-Please, don’t stop.”
Your words must have been just what he needed to hear, adding fuel the flame he’d been sheltering inside into something brighter, blazing to life. His grip on your hips tightened, near-bruising in possessiveness. König moved quickly, hoisting each of your legs over his shoulders. His fingers dug into the backs of your thighs as he lifted your lower body until you were tilted up toward him, your slick cunt right in front of his face.
The hem of your shirt slipped up further at the angle, revealing the entirety of your abdomen to him. It would have been hard to maintain this position, your lower half suspended in the air, straining your muscles — but König held you here effortlessly, relieving you of the need to help keep your hips up.
He didn’t waste another second and dove in, slick tongue and lips furnace-like, somehow warmer than your own heated body. It nearly hurt with how good it felt, the way he greedily mapped every inch of your sensitive skin, leaving no spot untouched, unattended.
Stars burst behind your eyelids, dancing colors as you drowned in the sensations, tugged underneath the rising tide of pleasure that filled you from the inside out, threatening to burst through the seams of your being. But —
it wasn’t enough.
You rutted your hips against his face desperately, seeking more, more, more, allowing yourself to be selfish, to enjoy this. Your movements grew more frenzied when he probed your tightness with his tongue, lapping up your leaking arousal. His fingers curled against your thighs as you continued to seek him out, as if your body was afraid of him leaving, of losing the heat of his mouth against you.
He pulled you higher and higher toward euphoria, all of your shyness and uncertainty long ago washed away with each stroke of his tongue. You opened your eyes and blinked, the slight ache in your lids making you realize how tightly you’d had them shut — and fuck, the sight of him almost threw you over the edge. König’s eyes were closed, the black smudging over his eyelids creased.
You couldn’t see what he was doing to you, his hood having come untucked from above his ears, draped over the front of your lower abdomen, veiling his mouth and your cunt. But you didn’t need to see it — you could feel every flutter of the velvety warmth of his tongue, drinking freely of you, feel and hear the vibration of every groan and moan he uttered into your slick folds.
Your eyes dropped to his hips, watching the way he rolled his groin into the side of the mattress as he lapped at you, a poor imitation of fucking you — but maybe it gave him some relief. You started to reach for his belt as much as you could from this angle, your hand scrabbling against the covers. A rough growl vibrated against your cunt, König’s warning to be still, a primal and dark noise that tugged something out of the deepest part of you, the sound speaking to your basest instincts.
You listened.
You stopped reaching for him and let your hands fall slack on the mattress, though you couldn’t stay still for long. König sucked your clit between his teeth and you felt two thick fingers sliding among your slick before pressing into you slowly.
You threw your head back and cried out as pleasure twisted its way through your core, spreading through the muscles of your stomach, tendrils sneaking lower until your legs trembled again. This time, you didn't quake with nervousness or shyness, but with pure need, the impending climax that you could barely contain. Your hands wound within the bunched-up blankets below you, rolling your head to the side, your hair coming loose from its tie and splaying across the cotton sheets.
“‘m gonna cum,” you breathed as you hurtled toward the moment in a wild freefall, hoping, praying that König would catch you. “König, ‘m gonna—gonna—” Your lungs refused to fill fully, the tug and pressure on your clit stealing all the air from you.
König stayed steady, holding you at the precipice a moment longer, the edges of your vision going dark as you grasped at the blankets. His tongue dipped and twirled in your heat, circling your clit expertly, in tune with your body, anticipating what you needed. The two digits inside of you curled, pressing against the spot inside that caused ecstasy to bloom, hot and free, the molten surging that singed its way through your veins. Your fingers twitched among the comforter, desperately clinging to the last wisps of reality until—
Light streaked across your vision as your back arched, pushing yourself further against him until there was no space between you two. He groaned as his tongue continued to drag across you, your pulsing cunt flooding his mouth with your release. Awareness slowly returned to you once he slowed down and set your hips down on the bed. All you could do was lay there, feeling like you’d been wrung out, filled up, and twisted until you had nothing left to give.
König bent to you and gave your swollen clit a few more lazy sucks, chancing one last flick that had you finding enough energy to squirm away from the overstimulation.
When you finally mustered up the ability to look up, your eyes refocused as you blinked away the bleariness. König had tucked his hood up again, and soft pink lips waited for you, stretched into a tender smile, the thin white line of scarring over his bottom lip pulled tautly. His eyes shone with affection, the blue bright, fixed on you intently before flicking down to your bare lower half once more, his tongue rolling out to pull the remaining taste of you into his mouth.
No one had ever looked at you the way König — and Simon — did, full of unbridled yearning but overlaid by something more reverent that almost hurt to think about too deeply. Your chest ached as your heartbeat settled from its wild ride.
“Wh-What about you,” you asked softly, watching his eyes snap back up to your face as if he’d been caught red-handed.
“What about me, little one?” he murmured as his hands trailed over the curve of your hips. His fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt before he tugged it over your head while you raised your arms over your head to help.
Agile fingers snuck behind you, easily undoing the clasps of your bra. König’s fingers spread out over handfuls of your breasts, his breath sucked in through gritted teeth when your nipples pebbled under his attention. You left your arms up on either side of your head, palms up, fingers relaxed, offering yourself to him.
König let out his breath over a few beats, a trembling fingertip dipping between your breasts and down your tummy, tracing an imaginary line around your navel as he leaned over you. Your lips parted as your skin erupted in a cascade of goosebumps, every tiny hair on your body rising to greet him, to show him just how much you missed his touch.
If the thorough way he explored your body was anything to go by, he felt exactly the same way. His eyes rose to yours again, the pale irises a thin ring around large, dark pupils, dilated with his need — but within the shining depths of his eyes, you still saw compassion and and care, swirling together with his hunger for you.
That feeling returned, the feeling of being so incredibly small against the massive size of him, his large, scarred palms splaying across so much of your bare skin. It wasn’t just his physical size, but the strength of his presence, the strong demeanor that made you want to curl into yourself, become small enough to burrow yourself into him, tuck yourself into the crook of his neck or elbow, or fit in the center of his calloused palm.
You got the sense that König was a bit less sure of himself than Simon, his own emotions bleeding into yours more obviously — but he still commanded your attention just as effortlessly, your body and spirit instinctively drawn to him.
“Hm?” he asked as his hands settled back down at your hips, fingers curling around your soft skin.
“Don’t you want to…” your voice quieted as eyes dropped to his belt, at the thick bulge still present beneath the dark canvas of his pants. “Want to…” you tried, but words failed you — which was silly considering everything you’d already done with this man — but his gaze softened in understanding.
“I do,” he said, voice husky, evidence of his own desire. “Believe me, I do. But there are others close by, and we may have already been…louder than we should have.”
Your cheeks flushed — it was sweet how he wasn’t blaming you, but the lack of volume control had been all your fault. You didn’t want to stop here, not when you’d gotten off and he didn’t, not when he looked at you like that.
“I can keep it down,” you offered, dropping your tone a few levels, shooting him a brilliant smile that you hoped would entice him. “Promise.”
“Can you?” he asked, his own smile turning fiendish. “Hm. We will see.”
You swallowed thickly, maybe regretting your vow. His words felt like a dare—
but for him, you were up for the challenge.