Kink Me! #21
Kink Me! #21
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Welcome to Kink Me! Merlin #21!
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He doesn’t bother much with foreplay, since apparently he’s a man on a mission and she’s been depriving him terribly. He pins her hips to the armrest with one hand, loops his other arm around her so she doesn’t go backwards, and nuzzles his way under her skirt. It’s a shock, from nothing to the wet, insistent press of his mouth in just a second, but she likes it that way, grabs tight to the back of the couch because otherwise she can’t see it ending well.
For all she thought Gwaine was feeling impatient tonight, he seems willing to lavish all his attention on using his mouth on her. He’s endlessly inventive whenever they’re together, about new positions or things to try, but Morgana’s never seen him focus everything in on just one thing like this and God but he gives good head. She’s going to send fucking flowers to whoever trained him. He knows just how to use his tongue, his lips, the gentle scrap of teeth, even, to keep her tense and trembling and right at the edge. It doesn’t take much time until she’s impatient with it, wanting to come, wanting him to fuck her, but no urging, even when she gives in and asks for it, will make him speed up or move his hands so she can at least grind against him.
When he finally lets her come, what seems like ages later, she already feels near-boneless and assumes that he’s going to fuck her, but instead he just keeps on with what he’s doing. “I already came,” she manages when he slides two fingers up inside her and keeps licking around them.
Gwaine pulls out with a sloppy noise. “Yes, and you’re going to again,” he says, and dives back in.
Morgana doesn’t bother analyzing what he’s doing, this time, because she’s tired and trembly and she feels amazing but it hurts, getting pushed this close to the edge again so soon, and he’s still taking his time about it. She moves one hand carefully to balance on his head, pushes down a little so he’ll get on with whatever his plan is for the night, unless it’s to bring her off with his mouth on the couch until they both pass out, which she wouldn’t put past him.
He takes mercy on her and lets her come more quickly this time, and they both stay there panting, his face turned into her thigh, mouthing absently at it while she attempts to piece her brain back together well enough to plan some revenge. She feels taken apart, and it’s hard to do anything but pet vaguely at Gwaine’s head in pitiful thanks and hold on to the couch with everything she has because she suspects the night isn’t over.
Like that’s some sort of cue, there’s the fumble of a key in the lock and before Morgana can do more than freeze and Gwaine can do more than pull his head out from under her skirt, Merlin comes bursting in, looking ready to spit. “Can’t stay with Arthur right now, so I’m sleeping on your couch to-oh my fucking God.”
And that’s the point when Morgana falls off the couch.
Next time: explanations!
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This is terrific, Anon.
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