“Gods, I missed this,” he groaned against her skin. “You come so fucking hard when I do this, don’t you?” He didn’t wait for an answer. His teeth closed over her nipple again, rough, relentless. Her moan was hoarse, almost voiceless.
She arched, helpless, wrists straining against the belt. The pressure, the bite, the rhythm of his hips — it was too much. It waseverything.
“Again?” His voice was muffled around her flesh, soaked with sweat and heat and filthy adoration. “Come just from this? From my cock and my mouth and myteeth?”
She sobbed, nodding violently, hips jerking up into him.
“That’s it — give it to me.” He bit down harder, just enough to hurt, just enough to drive her mad. “Come for me like this. Hands tied.My mouth on your tits. My cock so deep inside you it aches.”
Her whole body seized, a broken, desperate cry tearing from her throat as she shattered beneath him — again.
She was still trembling, whimpering with aftershocks, when he finally let go of her nipple with a wet pop. The sight of her — flushed, bound, spread out — was too much.
“Holy… fuck, Guinevere,” he gritted through clenched teeth. “You’re going to undo me.”
His pace turned brutal, erratic, no rhythm now, just a desperate, hungry pounding as he chased the edge she’d dragged him to. Her body welcomed him, clenched tight around him, still fluttering.
She was moaning still, dazed, the sound of it unmaking him. “Want to feel you,” she breathed, and that was it. “Inside me.”
His hips slammed forward one last time, burying himself to the hilt.
“Gods —fuck,Gwen.”
He came with a roar, spine bowed, arms trembling on either side of her. He swore again, gasping into her shoulder as he emptied inside her, thick and hot and endless.
She could feel it, every pulsing beat of it, filling her so deeply she swore it hit her heart.
His body collapsed over hers, still panting, still twitching with the aftershocks. Then he kissed her — messy, aching, almost reverent.
“You know,” Lancelot murmured against her neck eventually, still barely moving, “I’m starting to think tying you up might be the best idea I’ve ever had.”
Guinevere let out a soft, breathless laugh. “Better than declaring yourself the Queen’s Champion in front of Arthur?”
“Oh, that’s a close second,” he said, grinning against her skin. “But I didn’t come in my pants during that one.”
She snorted. “Still not letting you live that down.”
“I don’t want you to,” he replied, cocky and sweet at once. He nudged his nose against her cheek, then bit lightly at her jaw. “Ilikeknowing you can wreck me without even trying.”
“You’re just saying that because I let you maul my tits like a rabid animal.”
His eyes sparked. “Let me?” He pulled back just enough to glance down at her chest, flushed and marked. “Sweetheart, you begged.”
“I was tied up!”
“Andmoaning.” He pressed a lazy kiss to her lips, then trailed one to her temple. “Absolutely ruined. And still trying to get your legs around me.”
Guinevere smiled, eyelids heavy. “You’re insufferable.”
Lancelot reluctantly pulled back, eyes dark with lingering desire but full of care. “If it pleases you, my queen, it’s time to get you out of those binds before you start thinking you’re a prisoner.”
He deftly untied the belt from the headboard, then slowly worked the knot around her wrists, careful not to rush or cause any discomfort. His fingers brushed hers once free, a silent apology and promise wrapped in that small touch.
Guinevere flexed her fingers, savoring the return of movement but already missing the delicious restraint. “You’re so cruel, you know that?”
He grinned, leaning down to press a kiss into the hollow of her wrist. “Only to you.”
Rising, Lancelot grabbed a cloth from the basin, dipping it into the tepid water. He came back to her side, brushing the damp cloth between her legs, cleaning her of the mess he had made.
