24: Dream

When her lips touched his, he was paralyzed with happiness so much so that it only took her a gentle nudge to make him fall, fall, fall onto the bed. Hitching her skirt up, she claimed his lap as her seat as she smiled down at him, until her fingers brushed against the blackened mark on his chest. Frowning, she studied the scorched scar with sorrow in her eyes before bending down to kiss the skin.

Softly she pressed her lips against his chest, then his collarbone, neck, and jaw, until finally, she had recaptured his lips and stole his breath away. His hand brushing her leg, he touched her through the thin fabric of her petticoat, wanting to touch and taste with nothing – not even air – separating them.

Holding her waist, he moved her closer to him until her breasts were gently crushed between them and she knew of his desire for her. A look was shared between them as he tucked her hair behind her ear and briefly brushed his lips against hers in an attempt to convey to her how his lust had been spawned from his love, and not the other way around.

She seemed to understand because she smiled at him in such a way, his heart nearly burst. How wonderful it was, to lay here like this with the love of his life. To have finally been reunited with her. To be able to have her and satiate his appetite for her.

He let out a groan as she shifted and pressed her taint against his groin. The heat in his lower abdomen reddening his cheeks, he – almost shyly – met her smile with a flustered one of his own. He hadn’t thought himself to be this sensitive, but perhaps these past few years of abstinence had had a larger effect on him than he had presumed.

Sliding off of him, she turned her back on him as she reached down and pulled the edge of her slip over her head. Retaining laughably minimal modesty, she wrapped an arm across her chest when he sprung from the bed and swept her up into a tight embrace. Heart hammering in their chests, they stood in the quiet room, the only sounds their intermittent, ragged breathing whenever they reluctantly parted from the kiss that made their blood rush and want the other even more – a feat that had originally seemed impossible.

He did his utmost to restrain himself the best he could. Gentle with her, he curbed his craving and contented himself with running his hands over her curves. Stopping at her small waist, he stepped closer to whisper in her ear and nuzzle her neck, when she surprised him by grazing her hand against him.

Stiffening, he stood with bated breath as she flushed but firmly wrapped her fingers around his girth and rubbed the tip. A thin string of pre-cum trailed after her finger as her soft hand toyed with him. His hand coming to rest on the wall by her head, he closed his eyes and sighed as she moved her hand up and down his shaft. It felt nice, this. Small waves of pleasure cooled him off from the unbearable heat of his lust – waves that grew larger and larger with every pump of her hand.

And then her breath was tickling his jaw and her hand was flat against his chest and he was rubbing against the soft, pale skin of her stomach before she guided him down to her glistening folds. Desperation possessing her, she wordlessly pleaded for him to end her misery: a task he gladly accepted.

Kissing her hard, he gripped her and, an arm wrapped around her waist and his other hand holding up her leg, pushed forward, sliding through her loose hold and into pure, unadulterated bliss.

Drying his face, the Prince threw the towel beside the basin before sitting heavily on the bed. Running his hands through his hair, he covered his face as he heaved a sigh. Disappointment exuding from him, he was still in the silence of the grey dawn as he repented. To have him lose control like this; even if he knew it had all been a dream and a mere figment of his subconscious, he blamed himself because he recognized that because he had had no control and therefore had no power to inhibit, he had been forced to face the part of the nature of his love for her that he had wanted to avoid. Of course, it was perfectly natural for him to view her in such a way. Simply put, it was merely eons of evolution and biology fulfilling its responsibilities as it should be. Nor was he exactly ashamed of his love for her. But at a time like this, in a situation like the one now, there was little need for such duties, and he couldn’t help but feel an underlying sense of horror and disgust for the biological laws he found himself bound by. Already he had been questioned by Jeremiah; what was he coming to with dreams like these?

It was high time he addressed the matter with his men. If Jeremiah had demanded answers, it could only mean the others had noticed as well, and it was better off for them all if he nipped the issue in the bud before it grew any more than it had and wrapped its prickly vines around their necks; before he lost any more control than he already had and led them all to their deaths.


One thought on “24: Dream

  1. llccreader says:

    I suddenly laughed when I realized it was a dream. I forgot the title when I started reading. Poor Lelouch, well I guess it’d be better to come clean than risking the group. Thanks!😀


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