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It was on a whim when she made the tincture, a simple random thought of “This could be interesting”
That was all.
Before coming to Thavnair, and staying there for an extended period, her alchemical knowledge was… Decent. Sumire could mix together basic potions and medicines, and had dabbled in ink making so that she might restore old orchestrion rolls or ancient treasure maps. Simple things.
But Thavnair was a treasure tomb of alchemical knowledge, and the Hannish alchemists knew their stuff. So she indulged herself in it, learning new potions and new tinctures, new ways of turning the “junk” (as Estinien put it) she found into powerful tonics, strong elixirs, and healing potions. They opened her eyes to a vast world of knowledge she had not even begun to consider, and ways in which she could use her alchemical knowledge that she had not even dreamt of.
So, when she read about a recipe which could increase one’s vitality in bed, she was very interested. Because she was curious, she always had been. The world of sexual pleasure had been one she had discovered only after coming to Eorzea, and it had fascinated her. Her collection of “naughty” (again, as Estinien put it) books was a symptom of this curiosity, and having a partner to explore it with only made her more interested in it.
And though she very much doubted Estinien needed or required a vitality potion, given the ease with which she could make him hard just with her words alone, Sumire figured it would be fun. It was designed to keep him hard for a longer period of time, so that he did not to take breaks in between his releases as he normally did. There was a secondary effect, and though Sumire did not mind the secondary effect, twas the main effect that she cared for.
Of course, she did not mind that Estinien had to take breaks in between their bouts, in fact she often used it as an excuse to ride his face, with the tease that the least he could do was clean her up, but the image of him being able to go non-stop for at least thirty minutes… The mental image alone was enough to make her wet.
All of which was to say that it was with pride and excitement that she set the tincture of vitality down on the table next to Estinien one night, hands on her hips, beaming down at him. They were in her house in Gridania, a nice reprieve from the hustle and bustle of Radz-at-Han, and having a house to themselves meant they didn’t have to worry about anyone overhearing Sumire, who could be remarkably loud. It was the perfect time to give it a try.
“What is this?” he asked as he picked it up, the golden contents inside swirling about as he looked at it.
“A potion I made just for you,” Sumire replied, “I am not quite sure the efficacy of it, so we will have to test it out. I used the recommended ratios for an elezen, but those ratios assume that the elezen does not have dragonsblood in their body, so—”
Oh.
She paused as she watched Estinien pop the cork out, and down the entire bottle in one go. His face scrunched up a bit at the taste, not that she could blame him, but she was more shocked at the fact that he had not waited to hear what exactly it was before downing it in one gulp.
“Tastes disgusting,” he complained, setting the glass bottle down. “What is it for?”
Crossing her arms, Sumire tilted her head to one side as she looked down at Estinien with a bemused look on her face. “You would drink a potion I made for you without waiting to know what it was?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked. “I trust you with my life, I doubt you would make anything that might seriously harm me.”
“I wouldn’t, at least not on purpose. But still,” moving so that her hands were on her hips, she shook her head at him, “different potions have different effects, so when you take them should be a consideration.”
“Hmph,” Estinien crossed his arms and gave her a look, “mayhaps you should consider that when giving me your potions, if you do not wish me to drink them right away.”
“Mayhaps you should have better impulse control.” Was what she wished to say, but chose not to. Such an argument would be pointless with him and his practicality. Instead, she chose to enlighten him on the intended effects of the tincture he had just ingested.
Thank the kami he ate before I gave it to him.
“’Twas a vitality tincture, and a strong one at that. I got the recipe from the Hannish alchemists in Thavnair,” leaning back on the balls of her feet, she raised a brow at him, “you should feel the effects within the next few minutes or so, and ideally they will last for at least half an hour, if not more.
“But as I said, those ratios were designed with a normal elezen in mind, and not one who has the blood of the First Brood pumping through his veins,” she continued, shrugging her shoulders, “so the effects might vary. It could have no effect on you at all, or perhaps have a stronger effect than usual. We won’t know until—”
Once more he cut her off, though this time with his words.
“Yes, yes, that is all well and fine. What do you mean by vitality?”
“Hmm..” Looking away from him, Sumire glanced up at the ceiling as she thought of how best to explain what the potions intended effect was. There was, of course, the main intended effect, but the secondary effect was… Well, at least he has shown an interest in these sort of things, she thought.
“There is one main effect, and one secondary effect,” she finally said, mirroring him as she crossed her arms and looked back at him, “the first is... To put it plainly, it will keep you hard even after you release, or it is supposed to. As I said, the effect should last between half an hour to an hour at most, but with your physiology we won’t know until we try it out.”
He cocked a brow, and there was a hint of a smirk toying at the edges of his lips. “And the second?”
There’s no better way to say it, I suppose.
“It increases your fertility.”
There was a silent, pregnant pause. And then Estinien burst into laughter.
“I see,” he said as his laughter died down, though he still grinned a wide, toothy grin at her, “so, was this your way of saying you wish for me to fuck you tonight? Or would breeding you be a better term?”
Her cheeks burned, but she held his gaze unflinchingly. She wasn’t the only one who enjoyed that term for their intimate moments.
“I was merely curious.” Her reaction only drew another laugh from Estinien, who reached out and pulled her between his legs.
“Aye, aye. Curiosity killed the cat, you know,” he teased, his hands settling on her hips.
Normally, Estinien towered over her, with her head only just reaching his chest. But when he sat on the bar stool, as he was now, his face was even with her own, which made it easier for him to reach one hand up and capture her lips in a kiss, his fingers guiding her chin towards his face.
“Although in your case, I suppose we should say curiosity killed the fox,” he murmured before he kissed her. His lips were rough, like sandpaper, as they moved against her own softer lips, but that did not stop her from pushing back against him, her arms going to his shoulders as she leaned into his kiss.
Whether it was the tincture, or his own desire, she could not tell, but Estinien quickly pressed his tongue against her lips, demanding access to her mouth. Without hesitating, she opened them slightly, her tongue sliding against his as they explored each other’s mouths. She could taste the lingering spices from the dinner she had cooked for them, followed by the harsh taste of the sake he had been drinking.
That is another thing for me to take into consideration, how much he drinks. Alcohol can have an effect on many medicines, and—
The hand on her hip went to her ass, squeezing tightly as he pulled her close until there was no physical way for her to be any closer to him, lest he undid his pants and took her then and there. With how she was angled, she could not quite tell whether the tincture had already taken effect or not, but she imagined if it did take effect it would be no problem at all for him to just push her underwear to the side and take her wherever he so pleased. The fact that she wore nothing but a short yukata would make it easy for him to do so.
When finally they parted for air, Estinien kept her face there, close to his, her chin locked in his vice-like grip as he continued to grin at her.
“You are lucky, by the way, that you are far too beautiful for me to ever dream of denying you what you desire,” he said, his voice low, “for I did not enjoy being the Hannish alchemists’ test subject. Though I imagine this experiment will be far more enjoyable than the last time.”
Leaning forward, Sumire bumped her forehead against his. “If you do not wish to help me experiment with my potions, airyū,” her words were soft and sweet, as she then moved her head to the side of his own and ran her tongue along the edge of his long ear, “then do not drink them before even knowing what they are when I give them to you.”
He shivered against her, his ears were always a weak point for him. If ever she desired, she could have him begging for her just by nibbling her teeth against the soft tips. It was fun, teasing him. Testing his limits like that. Pushing him to the edge. There was a way in which he handled her in those moments, when the teasing got to be too much, that she enjoyed, the sensation always going straight to her core.
“Tell me,” his hands, free from her chin and ass, slid underneath her lavender yukata, hands massaging her thighs. When she pulled back from his ears and was face to face with him once more, she noted the dark look in his eyes, and her eyes could not help but glance over the chronometer in the kitchen as he spoke, “how am I supposed to know that it has affected me?”
Her eyes darted back to his, his lovely eyes that were always so tumultuous, the color of the sea during a storm in winter. Taking locks of his hair in her hands, she twirled them around her finger as she hummed.
“In theory, it should take about five to ten minutes for you to fully feel the effect. The book said it would start off as a warm sensation throughout your body, followed by a slightly elevated heart rate. Once your heart starts to beat faster, it means it’s taken effect.” As she finished speaking, she let go of his hair with one hand, her fingers gently dancing down his chest, across his stomach, and past his waist. If curiosity kills the fox, I might as well have fun with it. They ghosted across his hip, before she ran them across the length of his very erect shaft.
Less than five minutes. She had a feeling she would need to adjust the formula. Her own heart began to beat faster. Tonight will be fun.
Estinien grunted, and his hips began to move and into her hand, seeking friction, and Sumire was at an impasse with what to do. Her original plan was for him to take it later on in the evening, after he took the time to prepare her. Though her body had long since adjusted to him, he was, quite frankly, far larger than she was. Even with all of the preparation in the world— fingering her, eating her out, using toys— he was still a tight fit. And though she could feel a warmth pooling between her legs, if he truly did take her then and there, it would hurt. And that might distract from her evaluating the effects on him.
But the dark look in his eyes, paired with the way he rutted against her hand so wantonly, meant that he was ready for her in the here and now. Having him take the time to eat her out or even finger her might be painful, and it was her responsibility as the one who gave him the potion in the first place to—
Estinien grabbed her wrists, and in one fluid motion held them up in the air as he stood up, forcing her to take a step back, before he pushed her onto the wooden floor, her wrists pinned above her head and a knee between her legs, pressed against her cunt.
“Head in the clouds?” he asked, a dangerously gravelly lilt to his voice.
Sumire’s eyes were wide open, mouth parted, and in the moment where she tried to put her scrambled thoughts together, Estinien took the opportunity to dive in, his tongue pushing past her lips and into her mouth before she could even blink. The air in the room had suddenly gotten warm, and heavy, and it did not help that Estinien’s temperature ran warmer than the average person. He was hot and heavy above her, and had her trapped right where he wanted her.
Of course, if she so desired, she could always break free, she was stronger than him and more accustomed to battling with hands and legs versus traditional weapons, but still… Her eyes closed, and she could not help the quiet moan that came from her throat as Estinien swiped his tongue across her mouth, laying claim to every inch of it.
The moment he had her pinned, a tension began to form in the pit of her stomach, a lonely aching feeling that she had come to associate with the desire of being either thoroughly fucked by him, or thoroughly fucking him.
She was grateful that she had read the chronometer before this sudden change in position, as she could remember where the hands on it were, which would help her gauge how long the potion affected Estinien. Because she certainly was not going to be able to gauge the time in the heat of the moment, it was clear that he had no intention of that. He moved her wrists so that he gripped them both with one hand, as his right hand went back down to her thigh. Fingernails dug in deep, as he grabbed and squeezed at her, and suddenly he was not the only one desiring friction.
With his knee right there, she helped herself to him, shamelessly rocking her hips so that her clothed cunt rubbed against him, enjoying the bolts of levin it sent coursing through her body. If he let her continue, she could easily reach a peak just like that, rubbing herself against him. They had tested that one night, and found that so long as Estinien kept touching her, the friction of her grinding onto his thigh and knee was enough for her.
With a chuckle, he broke away from her, his fingers slowly easing up on her thigh, and as he let go to undo the sash that held her yukata together, he sat up a bit. That dark look in his eyes was not gone, it was still present, and perhaps it was a trick of the light, but there was a strange tint to them. One she had not seen before.
“I do believe it is working,” he teased, his voice still low and coarse.
“I can’t help but agree—” she replied, between gulps of air, “—though I may need to adjust the potency. It took effect far quicker than I anticipated.”
“Mine apologies.” His head ducked down, nuzzling in to the crook of her neck.
Liar she thought. And then that thought disappeared as she felt his teeth against her neck.
“Estinien—”
He bit down, hard. His teeth buried into her soft flesh, and the sound she made was somewhere between a gasp and a moan as the sharp pain shot through her, followed by a wave of pleasure. Her hips bucked up, once more rubbing against his knee, and he pressed it closer to her, allowing her to fuck herself on it. Her hips thrust up and rubbed her cunt against the rough weave of his pants, and Sumire bit her lip to keep a far too loud moan from escaping from her lips. She could not help it, the friction alone was enough to get her wet, and with every thrust and grind she felt herself growing slicker and slicker.
Some part of her realized that she was quickly losing herself to the pain and pleasure, and it was with every ounce of self-control that she had that she clung desperately to some semblance of rational thinking. She understood that at some point rationality would leave her, but this was an experiment and she had a duty to at least attempt to consider its results.
Still, though the thought of her cumming on his knee on the floor of their living room was tempting, the wooden floor beneath her was quite uncomfortable, and there was an ache already beginning to form between her shoulder blades. One she’d rather not deal with in the morning, given how many other aches and pains she would more than likely be dealing with. She needed to get him to move her to somewhere more comfortable, even the couch or one of the armchairs would work.
“Estinien—” Another moan as his hand found her breast, calloused fingers pinching at the delicate bud of her nipple, rolling it between them, “—anywhere but here, please.”
“You should’ve thought of that before you gave me the potion,” he murmured, squeezing her wrists between his hand, “besides, what’s the difference between a wall, a table and a floor?”
Sumire let out a sigh.
“The difference is you’re too lazy to pick me up and take me to the couch nearby,” she stated, ceasing the way she fucked herself against his thigh, though kami she wanted to keep going. That gnawing ache in the pit of her stomach would only continue to grow until some part of him was inside of her, and the rational part of her had to fight against the part of her that simply wished to let him do whatever he pleased to her.
He pulled back, and there was definitely a tint to his eyes, a hint of orange among the storm, like the sun attempting to shine through it all. Yet there was only the most subtle of differences in his aether, not enough for her to be worried about it, though a sudden thought bubbled its way into her mind.
Estinien’s eyes searched her face. There was a bit of concern there, beneath the hunger and lust. It was still him, she was certain of that.
“Couch or bed?”
She blinked, surprised by the question.
“Bed.”
There were more pillows, and it would be far more comfortable to be fucked into the bed than the hard couch in front of the fireplace.
Suddenly, they were both standing, although standing was not really the word for what Sumire was doing, as Estinien had pulled her up with her wrists. It was more like dangling. Before her arms had time to protest the way he dangled her like she weighed nothing, he set her down, and then promptly grabbed her by the ass and lifted her up. Her legs went around his waist, arms around his neck.
And then they were off.
“You were supposed to take it after giving me plenty of time to prepare,” she complained into his ear as he began to climb the stairs up to the second floor, “though admittedly, I did not expect it to have this much of an effect on you.”
His only response was a grunt. She huffed, and tightened her legs around his waist.
A part of her desired asking him to describe how he felt, so she could truly understand the effect it was having on him. But she did not need to, it would be pointless anyway. He was terrible at that, and would not give her a good answer, she would just have to come to her own conclusion based on what happened over the course of the night.
There was, however, one conclusion she came to. The potion had certainly enhanced the… Draconic parts of him that were leftover from his fusion with Nidhogg. The orange tint behind his eyes confirmed that, though admittedly she did not necessarily feel any part of Nidhogg, only Estinien.
That conclusion in turn, of course, made her even more curious to see how the night would turn out. And more excited. He had mentioned breeding, and though her understanding of the way dragons reproduced was antithetical to the way she wanted to reproduce, it seemed he did not care that there was a difference.
She wondered what it was about the potion that had caused such an effect in him, or if perhaps it was elevated by the alcohol he had been drinking. Another potential theory was that the mix of dragon and man meant that the innate desire to reproduce came across through more human means, at least when given an elixir designed to induce reproductive effects.
Estinien, however, gave her very little to ponder the question of what was going on inside of him, as he got to the top of the stairs very quickly. And then the door to their bedroom was opened, and she was tossed rather unceremoniously onto the bed.
“Better?” he asked as he stepped back, and began unbuttoning his shirt.
“Very much so.”
The bed she had bought for them was sturdy, and comfortable. It had cost her a very high amount of gil, far more than she was used to dropping on a singular item, but it was very worth it. Four poster, made of solid hard wood from the Black Shroud, with a soft yet firm mattress that moulded to the shape of their bodies. Perfect for them, two of the strongest warriors on the star, who both had high libidos.
“Good.”
His shirt was off, tossed onto the pile of books she had lying about, and he began working on his pants next. For her own part, there was very little for her to do. He’d already undone her sash, so it was easy for her to slip out of the yukata and toss it to the floor. All that was left was her underwear, but if she was right and he was going to skip right to fucking her, he could take that off himself.
Instead of worrying about it, she turned, and began creating a small pile of pillows for her to lie back on.
“Don’t bother,” Estinien said, and when she glanced back he was kicking off his boots, and wiggling his way out of his pants, “they’ll only end up getting in the way.”
Sumire turned her lips into a pout, but Estinien did not see it as he was too focused on his own clothes. With a huff, she rolled over onto her back, and entertained herself while she waited for him. Her underwear created a nice friction against the bundle of nerves at the top of her cunt, and she slowly rubbed it in wide circles. She was already nice and wet, a blessing which she thanked the kami for, and she could feel her wet slick dampening the cloth of her underwear.
How long will it last? She wondered to herself, as her fingers dipped beneath the white cloth, and pressed against her folds, searching for her entrance. And more importantly, how long will I last?
There was not much time for her to ponder her thoughts, or consider any changes she might make to the potion. Estinien grabbed her by her ankle, and tugged slightly, jolting her from her reverie.
“Taking care of yourself, are we?” he asked, a smirk on his lips.
“One of us has to keep my pleasure in mind,” she shot back.
“Aye.” Spreading her legs, he knelt down between them. Her wrist was grabbed, and pushed to the side, eliciting a soft whine from her.
“I won’t leave you unsatisfied,” he promised in response to her whine.
His head then nuzzled into her thigh, nose pressed into her flesh, and one hand gripped her hip tightly, holding her down as he bit down into the skin and muscle. Sumire moaned, straining against his hand, as he buried his teeth deeper and deeper. Another sharp pain stung her, this time far sharper than the previous one, and there were stars in her eyes as his tongue replaced his teeth, lapping up what she realized was blood. Her blood. She shivered, not even when he acted on base primal instinct of rutting into her had he done such a thing.
“You taste divine.” He towered over her once more. Neither of them had bothered to light the lamps, so the only illumination came from the window to her right. Moonlight flooded in, bringing stark contrast to Estinien and his body. His tanned, worn and scarred skin, dotted with scales of an azure hue. Small patches of them littered his chest, handfuls of scales that shone, reflecting the light that came in from the window.
Once he had told her that her hair glowed in the light of the moon. The same was true for him. His lunar white hair, which was out of its normal ponytail, framed his face, the soft locks running just past his shoulder blades. With the light of the moon, she could see his eyes, set upon her and open wide, hungry and needing, brows set in a line and lips dry.
Since going to the edge of existence and back, and witnessing the death of Gods who wielded power beyond her comprehension, Sumire had struggled in her faith to the kami. It was difficult, to put one’s faith in the unseen and unknown, after all that she had seen. To her, divinity no longer existed, she had put an end to such notions when she and the Scions had struck down Hydaelyn, and when she had struck down the Endsinger.
Yet, if divinity still exists, it exists in him. The man who had captivated her, who had her wound tightly around his finger. The man she would do anything for, rewrite reality just to bring him back to her side.
To Sumire, a woman who had lost all notion of the divine, it was Estinien who was divine.
She did not tell him this, of course. It was her own secret, buried within her heart. He wouldn’t like such a thing, anyhow, despite his own statements to her.
Instead, she smiled, and settled herself back on the bed, her arms above her head, long hair flowing across the bed as though a river of pure moonlight were cutting across the velvet blankets beneath her. If he was to call her divine, then she would play her part, and she would play it well.
“How do you feel?” she asked, in part out of curiosity, in part out of a desire to ensure he was alright.
He did not respond at first. Instead, he ran his hands along the outer edge of her thighs, his calloused hands scratching against her softer skin. They explored her body, as though it were new to them, running across her hips and waist, searching her abdomen and caressing her breasts. And then they settled. One just above her hip, below her stomach, right in the center. And one right beneath her right breast, across the ugly scar that had been left behind by the lance that was leaned against a wall downstairs.
“I feel like I want to fuck you senselessly into this bed, over and over, till I am spent.” The hand on her lower abdomen pressed down. “I want to watch as your belly fills with my seed, so much so that you wonder if my seed will take and finally give you that which you desire so terribly..”
His voice was like charcoal, coated in honey. Rough and cruel and warm all at the same time. Her eyes closed, she could not help it, and she had to bite her lip to hold back a moan. It was looking more and more like the potion was combining the draconic need to reproduce with the human desire to seek out pleasure.
A hand hooked itself underneath her ankle, and when she opened her eyes once more he had it settled upon his shoulder as he moved closer and closer to her. “I want to see just how potent this potion of yours truly is, just how long I can stay hard and continue to fuck you.” There was a tearing noise, and she felt the tattered scraps of cloth protecting her cunt fall apart. The cool air of the room brushed against it, only to be replaced with the heat of his body.
The muscles along the back of her leg protested as he settled over, one hand still gripping her ankle while the other, done with clearing his last obstacle to her wet folds, pushed two fingers inside of her slowly. Stretching her and testing her. A low whine left her lips, and without the hand on her hip Sumire was free to move her hips up, wanting more, wanting him deeper.
“I wonder if you’ll be capable of speech, by the time I’m through with you. I imagine it’ll be hard to think such things like potency and effects and formulas while I breed you,” he hissed as she whined, fucking herself against his fingers without care as she pouted up at him. He was right, and she knew it. She had a tendency to let her mind go blank when he took her, preferring to surrender herself to him entirely. Still, she would not let the night be a complete waste, and hoped in the morning that she might be capable of putting together her thoughts well enough that she could make the necessary adjustments.
“Estinien—” His fingers left her, and there was the sudden taste of her juices, bitter and sour with a hint of sweetness, inside of her mouth as he forced them inside. Immediately, she wrapped her lips around his knuckles, and sucked, her tongue darting across the two digits to thoroughly clean them like she knew he wanted.
“Good girl,” he praised her, and her heart fluttered happily. All it took was that one word, and she was his. No thoughts of teasing, no worries about how it might play out, the only thing she cared about was pleasing him, and being pleasured in return. Distantly, the rational part of her continued to find it fascinating, the effects the potion was having on him, and wondered what exactly was causing it.
It ultimately didn’t matter, though, at least not in the moment. That gnawing ache was still there, and she only had one goal— To be bred by her mate, the man towering over her, who had her so completely ready to do whatever the hell he desired.
Tears stung at the edges of her eyes. The fingers in her mouth pressed deeper, and deeper. Estinien knew her limits, they had learned them the first time she had wrapped her “pretty little lips” around his cock and sucked on him like her life depended on it. He knew how much she could handle. And he knew how to push her right up against that limit.
At the same time as he pressed his fingers in, his hips moved forward and as she moaned around his fingers she felt the tip of his cock press up against her clit. Her eyes closed, as his knuckles entered her mouth and his tip pressed in and around her sensitive nub. She knew exactly what he was doing, even if she could not see from this angle she had seen it before. He enjoyed smearing his precum across her clit, teasing her with his tip until she was begging for him to hurry up and fuck her.
Only this time she could not beg, just whine and moan as he filled her mouth with his fingers.
Estinien leaned forward, and her eyes fluttered open as his lips found her ears, hot breath fanning across the lobe. She shivered, as he whispered, “Seeth ah ala na.”
Take it all. Take it all. Take all of him. Take it all.
Only in private moments like this did he speak to her in the tongue of the dragons. But never had he spoken in their tongue to her in their intimate moments. A sudden desire awakened in her, and the thought of adjusting the potion to not induce such a state in him disappeared from her mind entirely, as though it had never been a consideration in the first place.
Her hand frantically reached between them, gripping his cock and helping guide him inside of her, as he kept his fingers in her mouth. They locked eyes, his burning holes of desire and heat into her, as she stared up at him, wide eyed. Needing. And wanting. And so glad that she indulged herself in her whims.
Ilm by ilm, he pushed inside of her, hissing as she stretched around him. It hurt, by the kami did it hurt, it was far too soon, and he had not spent nearly enough time stretching and preparing her for it, but if she cried out he did not hear it, or perhaps he simply did not care, so driven by need and lust as he was.
Her hand let go of his cock, and as his hips pressed up and against her own, he finally removed the fingers from her mouth. Sumire heard herself gasp, and cough, but there was no time for her to focus on the sudden empty feeling in her mouth as Estinien began to rut into her, finally freeing her from the gnawing ache in her stomach.
“Fuck,” he swore, loudly, as she took him in to the hilt, “fuck,” He swore again, and then he began to move.
There was no mercy to his movements, no time for her to adjust. He simply did not care. He had told her to take all of him, and so she would. He would see to that. The pace with which he set was a rapid one, pushing all the way deep inside of her, only to pull out and immediately force his way back in before she could even process it. His hand gripped her ankle tighter, and the stretch of her leg ran all the way down her calves, past her thighs, and to the pool of heat between her legs.
His free hand was used to prop himself up, so that his entire weight was not upon her, as he leaned over and continued to fuck her. Her breasts bounced to the rhythm of his thrusts, and her moans grew in intensity as the pain gradually gave way to pleasure. He grunted and groaned in time with the noises she made, and when she looked up at him she saw sweat dotting his brow as he stared down at her, his intense gaze turned hazy with bliss.
“Estinien,” she called out to him between her own moans, desperately attempting to keep up the pace with him, her hips rocking up and meeting his. It stung when they crashed into each other, but she did not care. How could she care, when that stinging sensation meant that he was as deep as he could be?
Estinien’s response to her calling out his name was to simply squeeze her ankle, nearly threatening to cut the blood flow off with how tight his grip was, before releasing it.
They settled into a rhythm, as Sumire adjusted to the feeling of him. Her hands, free from any grip, moved across her body, down past her waist and to her hip. There was enough space between them that she could settle her hand there for a time, and feel him every time he buried deep inside of her. A part of her dreamed of a day when that feeling stayed, when she could reach down and feel that bulge once more and know that he had laid complete and utter claim to her.
That feeling was only brief, however, as Estinien’s pace meant she would have to steady herself, with there not being pillows or a headboard immediately behind her to keep her in place. One hand gripped his shoulder, while the other threaded her fingers through his hair, holding on tight as she was fucked into the mattress.
“Ess…” He growled, and suddenly his teeth were digging in to her shoulder, biting down harshly. Pain shot through her, but it was dull, distant, drowned out by the feeling of being so completely and utterly filled that it hardly mattered what else he did to her. Once more, his tongue lapped up the beads of blood, thick and hot and wet against her neck. It was a foreign feeling, having him bite her with the intent of tasting her blood, but not an unwelcome one. She moved her hand from his shoulder, down his arm, to give him more access to her neck and shoulder, as he repeated the process of biting her and licking her blood.
He was clearly very eager at her own enthusiasm, or perhaps it was her submission, and the angle at which he thrusted into her changed as he bent forward, groaning at the taste of her. By the kami, she swore mentally, and she was grateful that she was flexible as her leg began to press against her abdomen.
How long did they stay like that? She could not tell, her voice grew hoarse with the moans that came from her lips, but every thrust felt like pure heaven.
Once more the angle changed, as Estinien bent down. His lips kissed a trail from her shoulder blade down to her breasts, and Sumire heard herself gasp as his tongue flicked out against one of her nipples. Her stomach turned, muscles tensing. And then, the thick and hot tongue circled her nipple, and circled it, and circled it, over and over. It was pure agony, the way he teased at her nipple, and he let out a far too smug groan when her muscles tightened around his cock.
“Please,” she begged, hands in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. What was she begging for? Relief? Release? She could not tell anymore, she just knew that the way he teased at her was torture, and she wanted more.
“I wonder,” Estinien’s voice reached her only just barely over the sounds of their lovemaking, her moans intermingled with the wet slaps as he rutted into her, “if your milk will taste as divine as your other juices?”
Her eyes widened, and Estinien took her nipple into his mouth. And then his mouth began to suck at it with the same passion as she sucked on his fingers or his cock, the same intensity. Her back arched up and into his mouth, wanting him to continue doing that, wishing that he would never stop as the loud and obscene sound of him suckling against her breast sent her hurtling closer and closer to that blissful edge.
Every thrust sent a wave of sheer gratification through her body, every suckle sent jolts of levin through her nerves, and she wanted to cry when he left her breasts behind, not spending the time there that he normally did, as his lips crashed against hers.
“Sumire—” He chanted her name between fervent kisses.
“Estinien.” She ran her finger nails across his scalp, then pulled on his hair, taking fistfuls of it into her hands. He swore into her mouth, and she felt his hand raise her hip slightly so that he could push deeper, and deeper, till she was convinced that he would not be satisfied until he was past her cervix, and inside of her womb.
Teeth nibbled at her lower lip, pulling and sucking, and when they were done she heard more hoarse, vulgar words strewn from her lovers mouth. They were senseless, meaningless babbling, and deep within Sumire knew that they were about to find out if they potion actually worked as intended, or if it had just set fire to the draconic parts of Estinien that usually took a backseat. She dropped her hand from his scalp, moving it between their bodies, to that sensitive nub between her thighs.
And she would be damn sure that her pleasure was not forgotten.
It was difficult, trying to find the right angle with which to play with that bundle of nerves, as her hips were moved by the sheer force of Estinien slamming in to her. But she wanted to find her release with him, wanted to milk every last drop of seed from his cock, wanted to take it further and deeper within when he finally filled her.
“Estinien,” she murmured again, whining as his teeth found another part of her neck to bruise and kiss. “I want, I want—”
It’s so much. Vocalizing her innermost thoughts was hard, when there was so much going on. Especially once Estinien released his grip on his ankle, and her leg went around his waist, and he used that free hand to reach down and roughly grab her breast, squeezing it in his fingers.
“Tell me,” he demanded, his voice deep and heavy.
“I want you to breed me,” she gasped, groaning and burying her head back into the mattress. There was no use in attempting to circle her clit and rub it into her own orgasm, not when he made it so damn hard to focus. All she could hope for was that the pleasure of him was enough for her.
His answer was a which groan came from the back of his throat, low enough to be a growl, and suddenly his grip on her breast tightened so much so that she worried he might genuinely harm her, and then—
All of her worry disappeared as he let out an almost victorious growl, and with one sharp thrust, she felt his seed begin to fill her. Long, thick spurts of it, far warmer and thicker than it normally was, filled her, and her eyes rolled back in her head. All senses became dulled and numb, as like a stormy ocean, waves of pleasure hit her, unrelenting and fierce and there was no way that Estinien did not hear her cry out as she came undone beneath him.
With each wave, each roll of sheer bliss, her hips bucked and rocked, trying to bring Estinien deeper and deeper within her, wanting him to truly fill her to her core. Each thrust released more and more, as Estinien’s movements became less methodical and more frantic, desperate— searching for more and more friction. At some point, his lips had found hers, moving to the rhythm they were both setting, stifling the loud moan that was coming from her throat. Sumire heard him groan, a deep groan that vibrated against her, a groan she had never heard come from him before.
How long did it take for her to come down from that high? She had long since given up trying to keep any sort of measure of time, seconds, minutes, hours... None of it mattered. Everything was a blur, and even when she slowly began to regain her senses, all that mattered was how his seed felt hot and heavy inside of her, and how it was somehow still not enough. How she could not feel him growing softer, even as he stilled and stayed inside of her, not allowing a single drop of precious seed to drip out of her.
I should act on my whims more often, it seems, was the first thing she thought, gulping in air as Estinien allowed her a few moments of respite.
“Shall we keep the experiment going?” Estinien murmured into her ear, after perhaps only a minute had passed.
A grin appeared on her face. “One test is nowhere near enough information for me to understand it’s efficacy, I think we may need several more tests at bare minimum.”
“As you demand,” he matched her grin with a wide one of his own.
Yes, I think I will act on my whims more. And repeat this experiment several times, to truly understand how effective it is, Sumire thought, as once more Estinien began to move.