Something's stirred you from sleep. A presence looming above you, your innate sense of self-preservation concludes. Awareness takes hold, slowly. Your vision is bleary, unfocused. Each blink brings your consciousness further up to speed, but it's snapped to attention by the feeling of the methodical movement of lips at your neck and a touch even lower that makes you twitch.
A breath leaves your mouth, some sound between a gasp and a sigh, and your hand reaches out instinctively to run fingers through the short black hair of the man whose fingers made slow circles on that bundle of sensitive nerves. The confirmation of your awakening does nothing to slow his consistent pace, though you feel the twitch of his lips quirk into a smile against the delicate skin of your neck, his facial hair brushing scratchily right behind it.
"You're back..." You manage to mumble through the hazy, building fog of arousal that has now replaced your previous state of drowsiness. A hum is his only reply, teeth scraping gently along and followed almost immediately by another set of kisses as apology. Later, you'd think to ask why his 3 week journey had been cut short so drastically. For now, you were content to let Mihawk touch and taste you as he pleased.
Pleasure was a warm coil in your belly, distant yet inevitable. It was a pace that, as the warlord's lover, was all too familiar. But then his thumb begins to press at your clit insistently, fingers now sliding inside your wet entrance and curling to touch upon that wondrous spot within that has you biting your lip. His free hand has lifted your shirt in your distraction far enough to expose one breast, and his head descends down enough to take it into his mouth.
His tongue is sinfully skilled at making you moan, flicking and caressing as he gave gentle sucks upon your soft, pert flesh. The combination of his attentions has the tiny flame of desire in your core flaring to life into full-blown lust. Your free hand digs into the sheets and fists the fabric tightly. It's hardly enough to keep your grounded, but it would have to do.
His name leaves your lips in a strangled plea, wrapped in ardor and desperation. Perhaps you'd be embarrassed to sound so needy, but in the throes of this intimate sex you can hardly be bothered to care. Here, in the empty castle in the dead of night, tangled in sheets and limbs and erotic fantasies playing out right before your eyes, the sounds of your enjoyment feels rightfully fitting.
Your hand presses the back of his head so he'll take your breast into his mouth just that little bit more. He's all but happy to do so, careful not to bite too hard on your hardened nipple. Muscles twitch and tense as the building sensation in your spine and cunt rise together. The keening sounds of your pleasure echoes around the bedchamber, heard only by your generous lover, who puts further effort into dragging you across that edge to finish.
Head thrown back, toes curling, you feel the last shred of your willpower snap and you cum with a choked moan. You feel Mihawk's pleased hum against your breast as you shiver and struggle for breath underneath him, his fingers slowing inside of you to help you ride the waves of pleasure along, until they stop entirely.
The silence of the night is punctuated by your labored breaths, skin clammy and shaking from the intensity of your orgasm. For several moments, you stay like this, fingers tiredly carding through his hair in appreciation.
He presses one last gentle kiss to your breast before his head lifts to look at you. Hair a bit of a mess from your messing with it, he's a study in beauty as his hawkish eyes take in the sight of your post-sex glow. He looks at you with such devotion, you can't seem to find the right words to say under it's weight.
"...wow." Is all you come up with, making him smile and chuckle quietly. He shifts himself to lay on his side facing you, and it's only then that you notice he's only wearing a pair of cotton pants, his toned and muscled chest exposed for your viewing pleasure.
"I'm sorry to wake you." He mutters, fingers trailing down your arm, eyes taking in your disheveled state with content. "But I simply couldn't resist."
"I'm not upset." You say with an amused smile, enjoying the simple touch after all the intense sensations. Your heart begins to slow as the adrenaline and orgasm subsides. "But I wonder...you said you'd be gone 3 weeks? It's only been 5 days."
At first he's silent, thoughtful as he meets your curious look. At one point, you remember feeling shy under his gaze, but that's long in the past. His attention feels natural by now, welcome.
Before he speaks, he lifts his hand and draws your chin forward just as he leans in to press a slow kiss to your lips. It's lazy and unhurried. He takes his time to savor the way your mouth molds against his. This was a pastime you'd never get tired of, you think to yourself, relaxing into his kiss.
It's only when the burn of your lungs becomes too great to ignore that you pull away, half-lidded eyes meeting once more, only inches apart.
"I realized I'd much rather be home, tending to a beautiful woman."
You smile at his rather poetic reasoning, lifting a brow. "The Marines summoned you to the gathering of Warlords. They only do that when it's important."
"Our definitions of important typically don't align." He says, certainty coloring his tone.
"Really? So...I'm officially more important than whatever interesting thing might be brewing up out in the world?" You ask coyly, unable to mask the laugh that bubbles up when Mihawk rolls you over to be on your back, his lean frame once more hovering over top of you.
"You never ceased to be less." He says, that sly smile working its way back into his expression. Once more, his lips find their way to your neck, placing delicate and promising kisses to your skin.
Your eyes flutter closed, embracing him eagerly. Despite the late hour, you found you were anything but tired at this point. In fact, another stirring of lust was reemerging deep within you. "Lucky me."
ns 15.158.61.20da2
