The Borgias - The Lesson
Title: The Lesson
Author: clair-de-lune
Fandom: The Borgias
Characters: Cesare/Lucrezia
Category: Het
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Episode 1.04
Warning: Incest
Word Count: ~ 695
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing them for a while.
Summary: Show me if you learned your lesson...
Written for the following prompt at borgiaskink: “Cesare follows up on Giulia's lesson on kisses.” (I'm afraid this was my own prompt. In the meantime, someone else has already filled the request, but since I wrote the ficlet...)
Many thanks to torigates for the read-through.
Later, in the comforting half-darkness of her bedroom, after she’s calmed down and the thought of her mother not being allowed to attend her wedding has morphed into an unpleasant but blurry notion, she tells Cesare about Giulia’s lesson on kisses. Soft kiss, pleasure kiss. She’s lying on her side across her bed, Cesare kneeling by it in a familiar position; he smiles down at her, one of those small, affectionate smiles she’s going to miss.
“Show me if you learned your lesson right,” he tells her; challenges her.
She leans up on her elbow, reaches for his face and trails a forefinger down his cheek, only stopping at the corner of his smiling mouth. He lets her have her way, stays still and waits.
Soft kiss. She gave him hundreds of those. It’s not just another one, though. There is more behind this one, promises of more to come, looming threats of separation. He nods his head in approval and she carries on.
Pleasure kiss is a first. Technically, Giulia’s was the first, but Giulia’s was just that... a technicality, albeit a nice one. And it’s still a first with Cesare. His beard is soft against her skin, his lips rougher than Giulia Farnese’s. It’s pleasant, which makes sense for a pleasure kiss, doesn’t it? She feels, radiating from her heart and coursing through her whole body, the usual warmth she experiences in her brother’s presence; just a bit warmer, a bit deeper, tonight.
“That’s it? Is that all what Donna Giulia taught you, sis?”
He’s teasing her. He’s trying to make her forget the pain of Vanozza having to stay outside of Saint-Peter for her only daughter’s wedding. He’s building a few more memories, a few more moments belonging only to the two of them. All that in a seemingly innocent question. She arches an eyebrow.
“Is there more that I should know?” she asks, playing along.
“Love kiss.”
An obviousness, if she trusts his tone. She can’t tear her eyes from his lips, enthralled by the way he quickly licks them, presses them together, parts them. She’s seen him do this so often; and yet she’s never seen him do this.
Soft pressure, warmth, a hint of moistness, and the taste of him she didn’t know but had guessed from breathing him in so often. She sighs, loving how his own breathing has picked up and grazes her cheekbone, how he exhales softly against her open mouth. He presses more intensely than she did for the pleasure kiss, his lips molding with hers like two pieces of a perfect whole, moves a bit - and maybe he keeps this up one second or one hour; she couldn’t tell. There is a quick sweep of tongue that makes her giggle and gasp, a fleeting biting sensation before he slides down her chin and follows the curve of her jaw. She tips her head to the side, offering him her neck. The delicious sensation inside of her burns brighter, wrenching a gasp out of her throat, causing her skin to tighten and goose-bump.
Love kiss. Love kiss is just what they need, isn’t it, just fitting for them.
She digs her hand into Cesare’s hair and briefly pushes his face harder into the crook of her neck, right at its junction with her shoulder, where her blood beats and pulses wildly. She’s almost sure that his tongue tastes her again. She tugs and pulls onto his hair until he looks up, until he understands that she wants him back against her mouth, his lips crushing hers, his hands touching her, and...
He brushes his mouth over hers, over her chin and her brow; playfully taps her nose with the tip of his finger. She’s flushed, can feel her cheeks red and burning, her breasts oddly swollen in her corset.
“Easy, my love,” he chastises with a blend of taunting and tenderness. “What you’re after now is a passion kiss. That’s a lesson for another day.”
She watches him with dark eyes as he stands and retires. She doesn’t need to remind him that, after the wedding, there would be no more moments for other lessons.
-End-
Comments are always welcome :)
Author: clair-de-lune
Fandom: The Borgias
Characters: Cesare/Lucrezia
Category: Het
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Episode 1.04
Warning: Incest
Word Count: ~ 695
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing them for a while.
Summary: Show me if you learned your lesson...
Written for the following prompt at borgiaskink: “Cesare follows up on Giulia's lesson on kisses.” (I'm afraid this was my own prompt. In the meantime, someone else has already filled the request, but since I wrote the ficlet...)
Many thanks to torigates for the read-through.
Later, in the comforting half-darkness of her bedroom, after she’s calmed down and the thought of her mother not being allowed to attend her wedding has morphed into an unpleasant but blurry notion, she tells Cesare about Giulia’s lesson on kisses. Soft kiss, pleasure kiss. She’s lying on her side across her bed, Cesare kneeling by it in a familiar position; he smiles down at her, one of those small, affectionate smiles she’s going to miss.
“Show me if you learned your lesson right,” he tells her; challenges her.
She leans up on her elbow, reaches for his face and trails a forefinger down his cheek, only stopping at the corner of his smiling mouth. He lets her have her way, stays still and waits.
Soft kiss. She gave him hundreds of those. It’s not just another one, though. There is more behind this one, promises of more to come, looming threats of separation. He nods his head in approval and she carries on.
Pleasure kiss is a first. Technically, Giulia’s was the first, but Giulia’s was just that... a technicality, albeit a nice one. And it’s still a first with Cesare. His beard is soft against her skin, his lips rougher than Giulia Farnese’s. It’s pleasant, which makes sense for a pleasure kiss, doesn’t it? She feels, radiating from her heart and coursing through her whole body, the usual warmth she experiences in her brother’s presence; just a bit warmer, a bit deeper, tonight.
“That’s it? Is that all what Donna Giulia taught you, sis?”
He’s teasing her. He’s trying to make her forget the pain of Vanozza having to stay outside of Saint-Peter for her only daughter’s wedding. He’s building a few more memories, a few more moments belonging only to the two of them. All that in a seemingly innocent question. She arches an eyebrow.
“Is there more that I should know?” she asks, playing along.
“Love kiss.”
An obviousness, if she trusts his tone. She can’t tear her eyes from his lips, enthralled by the way he quickly licks them, presses them together, parts them. She’s seen him do this so often; and yet she’s never seen him do this.
Soft pressure, warmth, a hint of moistness, and the taste of him she didn’t know but had guessed from breathing him in so often. She sighs, loving how his own breathing has picked up and grazes her cheekbone, how he exhales softly against her open mouth. He presses more intensely than she did for the pleasure kiss, his lips molding with hers like two pieces of a perfect whole, moves a bit - and maybe he keeps this up one second or one hour; she couldn’t tell. There is a quick sweep of tongue that makes her giggle and gasp, a fleeting biting sensation before he slides down her chin and follows the curve of her jaw. She tips her head to the side, offering him her neck. The delicious sensation inside of her burns brighter, wrenching a gasp out of her throat, causing her skin to tighten and goose-bump.
Love kiss. Love kiss is just what they need, isn’t it, just fitting for them.
She digs her hand into Cesare’s hair and briefly pushes his face harder into the crook of her neck, right at its junction with her shoulder, where her blood beats and pulses wildly. She’s almost sure that his tongue tastes her again. She tugs and pulls onto his hair until he looks up, until he understands that she wants him back against her mouth, his lips crushing hers, his hands touching her, and...
He brushes his mouth over hers, over her chin and her brow; playfully taps her nose with the tip of his finger. She’s flushed, can feel her cheeks red and burning, her breasts oddly swollen in her corset.
“Easy, my love,” he chastises with a blend of taunting and tenderness. “What you’re after now is a passion kiss. That’s a lesson for another day.”
She watches him with dark eyes as he stands and retires. She doesn’t need to remind him that, after the wedding, there would be no more moments for other lessons.
-End-
Comments are always welcome :)