A/N: Two sex scenes for the price of one? Sleepy sex, then sleeping!sex.
Aurora stirs in the darkness as Phillip slips back to bed, after dealing with the suspected breach of the walls which turned out to be a false alarm. It is his role as warrior-prince, after all, to see to the security of the castle.
Even if it did turn out to be nothing more than a stray deer at the castle walls.
"Phillip?" The moonlight streaming in through the window is just strong enough to trace Aurora's features in pale blue light. It was a struggle, at first, not to think of her as Rose after how she had introduced herself, but it had become easier with time. She said that it helped, as well, to remind her of who she was.
"It's nothing," he whispers. The bedclothes are still warm as he shrugs off his outer clothes and slips in beside her, but she is warmer, skin soft to the touch as she curls close to him. He brushes his lips against her forehead. "Go back to sleep."
Aurora gives a sleepy murmur and nuzzles his neck. One thigh wraps over his, and her breasts press against him; he would never have imagined that she would be one to sleep in the nude. Not, he had continued, that he thought this at all unpleasant. He was quite tempted, on milder nights, to follow her example.
Her lips slide higher, until they brush his ear. "Make love to me," she whispers.
Phillip feels his cheeks grow hot, though other parts of him seem far less averse to the suggestion. Soft wet lips brush against his cheek, but he can feel the drowsy weight of Aurora's movements as she slips an arm across his chest. It cannot be said that they have been coy in their explorations of each other, but the boldness of her words takes him by surprise.
"Aurora..." he begins.
A sleepy moan leaves her lips as she runs her hand down his chest, over the light fabric of his tunic, to brush against his thigh. It is too much, and he rolls to face her, kissing her mouth and feeling her body give and mould beneath him. Her eyes flutter closed, and she does little more than open her mouth to his kisses, his thighs to his pressing knee, but he can taste the want on her lips and feel the dampness of it at the apex of her thighs.
The pure warmth of her never fails to amaze him. Her hands faintly shift to help brush his tunic aside, then he pulls back to drag it away, exposing his skin to the cool night air. Aurora's touch is still slow with sleep and heavy with desire, but her hips tilt up so willingly as he positions himself between her thighs, holds still for a moment as she gives a wistful sigh, and then slides home into her.
She makes a sound, half-gasp and half-moan, that runs straight through him, eyelashes fluttering as her muscles clench around him. Her teeth scrape her lip, and he kisses the line of her chin, even as he thrusts again. It is so familiar, the warmth and tightness and the softness of her thighs cradling him, but so intimate as she wraps one sleepy arm around his neck and he fists his hands in the sheets on either side of her.
"You are so beautiful," he whispers to her, and she makes a vague sound but he isn't even sure whether it is in response or not. Her breathing quickens, and so does the movement of his hips, until he leans down and sucks at one of her nipples until she arches, moaning, walls clenching and wetness seeping down her thighs. She always feels so glorious when she comes.
Phillip lets her fall back to the covers, her face soft still with pleasure, cheeks flushed. The quivering aftershocks are maddening and it is everything that he can do not to thrust hard, to keep his strokes long and slow, feeling the coiling need to release tightening and strengthening in his loins. Finally it becomes too much, and he buries his face in her hair as he gasps and shudders and clings hard to her, heart pounding.
He lies there for a while even afterwards, dropping one hand between them to feel the sticky mixture of them seeping from her, as Aurora sleeps and breathes calmly into his ear. He falls asleep still cradling her to him, and in the morning when the sun stirs them awake Aurora smiles and kisses him all over again and slides one leg over him without so much as a warning. And he loves her all the more for it.
"Do you remember last night?" he asks, later, the question all but blurted out. Aurora turns to face him, brows drawn in a question. "When we... you asked me to do something. Do you remember?"
A smile spreads across her features, and she brushes a hand across his chest. "I remember asking. And I remember good dreams."
With some relief, he laughs, and reaches across to kiss her mouth. "I'm glad."
Her hand drifts lower. "Maybe you should do the same again tonight. It seemed to help me sleep."
Phillip laughs, chagrined, but just the thought almost makes him hard. He kisses his beautiful, strange wife to sleep, and slips into slumber himself with her hair tangled across his cheek.
He isn't sure what wakes him, some where into the deeper night. All that Phillip knows is that he is suddenly awake, the room almost pitch-black, and Aurora sleeping soundly beside him still. There is no sound, no guards at the door to explain his wakefulness, and he can pinpoint no reason for it.
Aurora sighs in her sleep, and he turns to look at her fondly. Whenever he thinks that he knows her, something else comes out, and every time it just makes him love her more. Her words come back to him, of good dreams and pleasurable waking, and he kisses the corner of her mouth to see it quirk into a smile. He can tell from her breathing that she is still asleep, all the same.
Throwing aside the covers, he skims one hand down her body over her nightgown, tracing the curves of her breasts, the slender waist, the roundness of her hips. His hand strokes her thigh, then higher, still through the linen to cup her sex. Dampness meets his touch, and he can bear it no longer, pulling up her nightgown and planting a kiss to her silky inner thigh.
Her legs seem to fall apart for him at the barest touch, and he kisses lightly along her skin, letting his tongue brush and lick here and there. Moving between her legs, for a moment he simply looks at her lovingly, all of her, the faint lines of her skin and the graceful lines she forms even in sleep.
Then he lowers his mouth to her. She seems to melt against his lips, skin slippery and parting, ready for his tongue almost before he licks soft shapes against her. He can feel the fluttering of her muscles, the way that her hips tilt, and as he builds closer and closer it is a struggle not to roll his hips against the bed, so desperately does he want her.
She comes with a moan, leaving him with wetness on his lips and almost causing him to release without so much as being touched, so utterly without guile is she. Especially now.
Panting, Phillip kneels up, suddenly realising that he is out of breath at all. Aurora's lips are parted, hair tousled, body all soft lines and her arousal still shining on her thighs. His hand goes to his shaft, almost painfully hard, then on impulse runs his fingers over her skin and with that slick hand pumps himself. It barely takes a few seconds before he comes, hard enough that he almost falls forward, heavy thrusts into his hand still covered in her and white spattering on her thighs.
With a sleepy murmur, Aurora tries to roll over, and only succeeds in tangling her legs around him and falling back again. Phillip is surprised to find himself still shaking, but he should know by now that there is nothing to be put past his incredible wife, and with a laugh lies down beside her again and kisses her hair, and wonders just how common Aurora might be willing to let this be.
Aurora stirs in the darkness as Phillip slips back to bed, after dealing with the suspected breach of the walls which turned out to be a false alarm. It is his role as warrior-prince, after all, to see to the security of the castle.
Even if it did turn out to be nothing more than a stray deer at the castle walls.
"Phillip?" The moonlight streaming in through the window is just strong enough to trace Aurora's features in pale blue light. It was a struggle, at first, not to think of her as Rose after how she had introduced herself, but it had become easier with time. She said that it helped, as well, to remind her of who she was.
"It's nothing," he whispers. The bedclothes are still warm as he shrugs off his outer clothes and slips in beside her, but she is warmer, skin soft to the touch as she curls close to him. He brushes his lips against her forehead. "Go back to sleep."
Aurora gives a sleepy murmur and nuzzles his neck. One thigh wraps over his, and her breasts press against him; he would never have imagined that she would be one to sleep in the nude. Not, he had continued, that he thought this at all unpleasant. He was quite tempted, on milder nights, to follow her example.
Her lips slide higher, until they brush his ear. "Make love to me," she whispers.
Phillip feels his cheeks grow hot, though other parts of him seem far less averse to the suggestion. Soft wet lips brush against his cheek, but he can feel the drowsy weight of Aurora's movements as she slips an arm across his chest. It cannot be said that they have been coy in their explorations of each other, but the boldness of her words takes him by surprise.
"Aurora..." he begins.
A sleepy moan leaves her lips as she runs her hand down his chest, over the light fabric of his tunic, to brush against his thigh. It is too much, and he rolls to face her, kissing her mouth and feeling her body give and mould beneath him. Her eyes flutter closed, and she does little more than open her mouth to his kisses, his thighs to his pressing knee, but he can taste the want on her lips and feel the dampness of it at the apex of her thighs.
The pure warmth of her never fails to amaze him. Her hands faintly shift to help brush his tunic aside, then he pulls back to drag it away, exposing his skin to the cool night air. Aurora's touch is still slow with sleep and heavy with desire, but her hips tilt up so willingly as he positions himself between her thighs, holds still for a moment as she gives a wistful sigh, and then slides home into her.
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"You are so beautiful," he whispers to her, and she makes a vague sound but he isn't even sure whether it is in response or not. Her breathing quickens, and so does the movement of his hips, until he leans down and sucks at one of her nipples until she arches, moaning, walls clenching and wetness seeping down her thighs. She always feels so glorious when she comes.
Phillip lets her fall back to the covers, her face soft still with pleasure, cheeks flushed. The quivering aftershocks are maddening and it is everything that he can do not to thrust hard, to keep his strokes long and slow, feeling the coiling need to release tightening and strengthening in his loins. Finally it becomes too much, and he buries his face in her hair as he gasps and shudders and clings hard to her, heart pounding.
He lies there for a while even afterwards, dropping one hand between them to feel the sticky mixture of them seeping from her, as Aurora sleeps and breathes calmly into his ear. He falls asleep still cradling her to him, and in the morning when the sun stirs them awake Aurora smiles and kisses him all over again and slides one leg over him without so much as a warning. And he loves her all the more for it.
"Do you remember last night?" he asks, later, the question all but blurted out. Aurora turns to face him, brows drawn in a question. "When we... you asked me to do something. Do you remember?"
A smile spreads across her features, and she brushes a hand across his chest. "I remember asking. And I remember good dreams."
With some relief, he laughs, and reaches across to kiss her mouth. "I'm glad."
Her hand drifts lower. "Maybe you should do the same again tonight. It seemed to help me sleep."
Phillip laughs, chagrined, but just the thought almost makes him hard. He kisses his beautiful, strange wife to sleep, and slips into slumber himself with her hair tangled across his cheek.
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Aurora sighs in her sleep, and he turns to look at her fondly. Whenever he thinks that he knows her, something else comes out, and every time it just makes him love her more. Her words come back to him, of good dreams and pleasurable waking, and he kisses the corner of her mouth to see it quirk into a smile. He can tell from her breathing that she is still asleep, all the same.
Throwing aside the covers, he skims one hand down her body over her nightgown, tracing the curves of her breasts, the slender waist, the roundness of her hips. His hand strokes her thigh, then higher, still through the linen to cup her sex. Dampness meets his touch, and he can bear it no longer, pulling up her nightgown and planting a kiss to her silky inner thigh.
Her legs seem to fall apart for him at the barest touch, and he kisses lightly along her skin, letting his tongue brush and lick here and there. Moving between her legs, for a moment he simply looks at her lovingly, all of her, the faint lines of her skin and the graceful lines she forms even in sleep.
Then he lowers his mouth to her. She seems to melt against his lips, skin slippery and parting, ready for his tongue almost before he licks soft shapes against her. He can feel the fluttering of her muscles, the way that her hips tilt, and as he builds closer and closer it is a struggle not to roll his hips against the bed, so desperately does he want her.
She comes with a moan, leaving him with wetness on his lips and almost causing him to release without so much as being touched, so utterly without guile is she. Especially now.
Panting, Phillip kneels up, suddenly realising that he is out of breath at all. Aurora's lips are parted, hair tousled, body all soft lines and her arousal still shining on her thighs. His hand goes to his shaft, almost painfully hard, then on impulse runs his fingers over her skin and with that slick hand pumps himself. It barely takes a few seconds before he comes, hard enough that he almost falls forward, heavy thrusts into his hand still covered in her and white spattering on her thighs.
With a sleepy murmur, Aurora tries to roll over, and only succeeds in tangling her legs around him and falling back again. Phillip is surprised to find himself still shaking, but he should know by now that there is nothing to be put past his incredible wife, and with a laugh lies down beside her again and kisses her hair, and wonders just how common Aurora might be willing to let this be.
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