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Something sweet lingers in the air.
Perhaps it is the tender kisses you press against the wanting mouth of your doting lover. Maybe it is the way his strong, slender fingers dig into the supple flesh of your thigh, pulling you impossibly closer. He thinks it could be the way your body comes alive under him, all needy, loving submission.
Regardless, he also thinks he’s never felt quite so alive, not even when his dead heart pumped life through his veins all those long years ago. You are resplendent beneath him, unfurling like a flower as he loves on you. He is all careful touches and gentle kisses, sweet hands wandering the expanse of your body just because he can, just because he’s come to appreciate the way you feel underneath those sweet, wandering hands.
For two hundred years, all he craved was freedom. The very hands that spoil you with tender touch used to catch rats in his dirty little hole. They used to wander the bodies of whatever pretty thing he could present to Cazador. They have always been tools for survival, tools to make it out to a freedom so precarious he was sure he’d never get it.
He likes that now, here in this moment, his hands can be used to worship you, to feel and touch and explore. They are free, unbound, his to do with as he pleases, to touch what he wanted, who he wanted. He ponders, for a moment, drinking in a greedy breath between kisses, that you might be his freedom, that this, right here, is freedom, his first light in two hundred years of darkness.
He finds himself growing impatient, then, the kisses he gives you turning heavy, filled with an intent all too foreign to the kisses you had shared in the past, an intent he was sure he’d never feel again.
It surprises both of you, the way that intent seems to become all consuming. His body crowds closer, becomes greedy, desperate to feel your form pressed flush against his own. You mewl as his fangs catch at your lips, offering a demure smile when he pulls away to lock eyes, all heavy-lidded and sure.
“Little love,” he croons, low and loving. “How you consume me, little love. It is maddening .”
You laugh then, a sweet, fluttery sound that leaves his belly in knots. “You have become so soft on me, lover,” you tease. “Are you sure you’re the same Astarion who kissed me with a dagger our first meeting?”
He gives you his own small chuckle, though there is something melancholy in the way it rumbles from his chest.
“I’m not quite sure I know who I am anymore,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a soft kiss against the tip of your nose. “But I think I am learning.”
Something heavy twinges in his chest. So much still hangs in the air, so much that you both have yet to conquer. Baldur’s Gate is a city of demons, a city both his home and his prison. He knows that the coming days will be difficult, that so much will change, that certain death looms closer than it ever has.
He knows what he has to do, once he faces Cazador. The thought of the looming ascension sends a cold jolt of fear through your tadpole bond, tugging the corners of your lips into a frown as you cup his face in your tender hands.
“You are so strong,” you whisper, stroking his jaw with your thumb. “You are one of the most cunning people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. You’re charming and silly and you’re wicked when it comes to battle. There is no one else I’d rather fight side by side with.”
His heart almost breaks with the way you look at him. He finds himself holding his breath as you inhale and press on, brows furrowing as he instinctively leans closer.
“When you face Cazador, you must kill him,” you whisper, serious as the grave. “I will help you if you need me, but Astarion we can’t let him ascend. That’s one more bigger bad that I don’t think we could handle, not with everything else.”
Your voice grows soft, now, a pit tugging in his belly at the way your eyes soften with sadness.
“I want you to know that I respect whatever choice you make once he’s dead,”
“Darling I-,”
“No,” you cut him off, sitting up as he pushes himself off of you, something new and tender budding where his heart once beat. “Let me finish, Astarion. I will respect whatever choice you make, and I will be by your side no matter what. I just- I don’t know, I need you to know that I know you-or at least I think I do-and I see you. I’m with you, my love. Even if you decide to ascend.”
He balks, for a moment, eyes wide as you stare back at him, resolute. “I think I love you, my darling rogue. I think I have for a while and I just want you to know that before we dive into this abyss. I don’t want you to feel pressured, either. I just want you to know that I love you and that I’m with you, come what may.”
Something shifts in him, then, with your nervous eyes and bared-open soul. He feels something twist and turn in his chest, something new and foreign and frightening. Something delicious, he thinks, something he’s glad to feel here, just for you.
“You surprise me more and more with each passing day,” he grins, finally reaching forward and pulling you close with a hand at the back of your hair. “Are you sure I’m the soft one after such a heartfelt confession? My darling, I think I’ve got you wrapped around my finger.”
You know he’s teasing, so you press a gentle kiss to the corner of his smile. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, I think.”
He sighs, threading his fingers through your hair thoughtfully. “If I ascend, you would stay by my side?”
“For as long as you’d have me,” you respond, somber. You both know that if he ascends, gone will be the doting lover that cradles you so close now. Gone will be the sincerity, the precarious love you both have carefully tended.
“And if I become even greedier? Power hungry? Even if I can’t love you?”
“I would remain yours,” you repeat, nervously. “For as long as you’d have me.”
He hears your heart jump, can hear the way it flutters so delicately in your chest. He softens for you then, even more if possible, and he pulls you in until you’re fully on his lap.
“I love you,” he whispers into your hair. “It’s the first thing I’ve ever been so sure of. I will not ascend, my love. Tempting as it sounds, a life with you at my side as an equal sounds far better.”
You shift away from him, then, staring into his eyes hopefully. “Do you mean that? Because I will be happy by your side no matter what. You have been deprived of choice for far too long, Astarion. I will not stand in the way.”
He chuckles. “Silly little love, do you not get it? This is my choice. I choose you, I choose us.”
You bloom under his touch, leaning up to press a heavy, adoring kiss to his mouth. He responds in kind, laughing softly as he wraps his arms around your waist. For the first time in a long time, he feels happy, truly happy. He still feels the threat of fear looming ever present, but for the night he will allow you both this brief respite before his brooding returns and you are both thrust back into reality.
“As I said, I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me,” you whisper against his kiss. “I care about you so much more than I can ever express, my heart. I am spoiled forever.”
He grins.
“As I said, I am so very greedy,” he teases, nipping at your lower lip. “I guess I will just keep you for the rest of your days if that’s the case. Mine to kiss, to cherish, to love.”
You nearly purr, “I’d like that very much.”
He laughs a husky thing, his hands once again beginning to wander. His eyes grow heavy and then he levels you with that hooded gaze that has your insides twisting.
“You know, pet, since we’re on the topic of choice…” his voice is low, sultry, and he can feel the heat of desire slowly building in the pit of his belly. He finds that the feel of you underneath his hands once again intoxicates him but this time he’s not so keen to put a rest to it.
“Long has it been since I’ve had the choice of taking a lover for my pleasure” he croons, bunching the fabric at your hips in his hands. “And I think tonight I desire to absolutely ruin you, my sweet pet.”
He feels your heart begin to race, feels the way your body heats up in response to him. You press yourself as close as you can to him, rising a bit on your knees so you hover over him just so. He hums appreciatively as you take his face into your hands, leaning down to press a heady, inviting kiss to his lips.
“If that is your choice,” you whisper, breath warm against his lips. “Then who am I to deny you, dear one? Take me as yours.”
The tension that’s been building snaps and he surges forward, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. One hand moves to the back of your head and traps you there, tangling into the strands as his other wanders wherever he can reach, groping greedily at your clothed body.
“You are already mine,” he growls, suddenly shifting so you’re once again caged beneath him. “By the end of tonight, you will remember no name but my own. And take heart, sweetling. I plan on rending it from those delicious lips for hours and hours.”
You mewl, heat surging through you as he presses the full weight of his body against you. His cock is already hard where it rests against your belly and satisfaction slowly fills your heart. You wiggle underneath him, contented by the fact that it’s you he desires, that he even feels desire at all, after everything. You feel lucky, so so lucky.
“My love,” you murmur between hungry kisses, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “Does ruining me entail clothes on or off?”
He pulls away with a devilish grin. “Silly girl,” he chides, making quick work of his shirt. “Off, of course.”
You bask in the sight of his beautifully sculpted chest, moaning lowly as you reach forward to lay a hungry hand over where his heart should beat. He looms over you like a god and holy hells does he make you want to worship. But the second those hungry hands of yours start to wander, he stops them.
“As much as I love your hands on me,” he starts guiding your arms over your head. “I want to see you naked, my sweet. The point of tonight is for me to ruin you .”
You pout but acquiesce easily, allowing him to slip your shirt over your head smoothly. He nearly groans when he sees you’re not wearing a bra.
“And there they are,” he purrs, leaning down to press a tender kiss between your breasts. “You are so beautiful.”
You cradle his head as he smiles up at you, though it is laced heavy with desire. Your fingers card through his hair as he takes one of your breasts into his hand, gently massaging the supple flesh. You keen softly, voice breaking slightly as he moves to take that same nipple into his mouth, tongue teasing the delicate bud. His free hand finds your other breast and you delight in the sensations of him enjoying your body, relaxing against the soft bed as he begins to suck marks into your skin.
He is slow in his ministrations, all lazy teeth and tongue and lips. He kisses every inch of your torso, leaving no skin untouched. The heat of your body is delicious, makes him think of nothing but ravishing you, of stealing all of that heat for himself. He groans lowly, shifting up to kiss you again, rutting softly against you as your hands begin to wander the skin of his back.
Once upon a time he would jump away, but now he moans into your kisses and allows himself to cave further into your body. His greedy hands find the waistband of your trousers, and before you can even think he rips himself away from you and nearly tears them from your legs. You bite back a gasp, leaning up on your elbows as he settles between your splayed legs, eyeing the wet spot that hides your pretty little cunt.
“I would like to taste you tonight, pet,” he murmurs, running a finger over the wet spot. “I think I should like to feast on you in every possible way.”
You grin wolfishly. “Be my guest, lover.”
He returns your smile and tears your panties right in half, laughing at the scandalized look that takes over your features. Then his laugh takes a low, hungry, timbre.
“My, my,” he murmurs, settling on his belly so he’s face to face with your dripping pussy. “So wet for me already, pet, and I’ve hardly touched you. Such a hungry little thing.”
He doesn’t let you respond, leaning forward to lick a tentative stripe right between your folds, collecting your slick on his tongue. You both groan in unison, and then his hands are pressing your hips to the bed and he’s diving in, licking at you like a man parched. You let out a keening cry, toes curling as he circles your clit with his tongue, then licking over it with just the right amount of pressure. He alternates that with a few lower dips into your weeping hole, groaning as you begin to slowly rock your hips against his tongue.
Satisfied that you’re just as greedy as him, he pulls a hand down to your cunt and teases your hole with the tips of his fingers, sucking around your clit when he finally plunges one inside, curling his digit and adjusting his wrist until he finds just the right spot. You cry out, hips jolting as he begins to slowly finger fuck you, eyes locked on your face as he still laps at your slick.
You can hardly breathe when he adds a second finger, breath stuttering as those ruby red eyes of his stare into your very soul. He adds a third finger once you’re nice and open, tongue increasing in speed as he notices the telltale signs of an approaching orgasm. He laughs lowly, pleased that you’re this desperate. He watches hungrily as your chest rises and falls, rutting against the bed as you shamelessly rut against his face, moaning and panting and totally lost to the sensation of his mouth and fingers.
This, here, is freedom, he thinks, happily lapping at your pussy, happily fucking you with his fingers. Here, free to debauch and be debauched, safe with you and you safe with him. He knew you were sensitive from your first few romps but this is entirely different, a new pleasure now that you both can bask in it.
He continues guiding you to the crest of your orgasm, delight heavy on his tongue as he finally pulls you over the edge. You squeeze your thighs around his head and let out the most guttural moan of his name he’s ever had the pleasure of witnessing. Your pussy contracts around his fingers and he easily laps up every drop of slick your hole weeps for him. He continues suckling at your clit until you are totally spent, chest heaving, thighs quivering.
“F-fuck,” you whisper hoarsely, laughing.
“Astarion, that was…divine.”
“I agree, my love,” he murmurs, still settled comfortably between your legs. “But we’re far from done, my sweet. Remember how I said I wanted to feast on you in every way possible?”
You blink at him curiously, heart stuttering when he tracks kisses from the sensitive skin of your pussy down your thigh, right to where you know your femoral is. His eyes are still so heavy-lidded as he presses a soft kiss to the skin, a question lingering in the air.
You moan softly. “Yes, of course, lover. Drink .”
He moans and before you can blink he plunges his fangs into your skin, groaning as the first taste of your blood hits his tongue. White hot heat assaults you, then cool icy numbness as he pulls slow, greedy gulps. Your eyes meet and you feel your pussy clench. How debauched he looks, face still slick with your pussy juices as he feeds on your blood. You watch as he sinks a hand into the waistband of his pants, mouth going agape as you watch him stroke himself through the fabric.
He groans deeply and pulls away, cursing quietly as he laps at the wounds. “You don’t know what you do to me,” he growls. “I need to fuck you or I might go insane.”
He pulls his pants down and immediately crawls back up the length of your body, pushing you back with a hand at your chest. He slides his leg up, catching the back of your thigh and hiking it over his own.
“Perfect little love,” he murmurs, hungrily. The position opens you up and you gasp as he slides his heavy cock right in, groaning as your cunt swallows him whole. “That’s it, pet. Take me just like that.”
You feel dizzy as he begins a punishing pace, the wet sound of your pussy sucking him in and out filling the room. It makes you feel drunk, how intimate it feels. The sound of his hips slapping against your skin, the wet slide of his cock inside you, the pressure. You choke on a moan as his hungry lips find yours, tasting of your need for him and your blood. It’s delicious, this lusty haze you’ve found yourself in. You can’t get enough.
Astarion, for his part, feels very much the same, totally lost to the feeling of your cunt constricting around his cock. There’s no real pace as he fucks you, going from bruising to deep to gentle and back in the span of a few heartbeats. He can’t believe this is what sex is supposed to feel like, can’t believe the gods allowed him such a beautiful creature to complete him, to allow him to ravish and be ravished.
He’s groaning against your neck, mouth agape as he hikes your thigh up further and opens you up just that much more. You can feel him brushing your cervix at this angle and the sting is positively delightful. How wonderful it feels to be loved like this, you think, drunk on cock. How beautiful he is, taking your body for everything it will give him. He deserves this, you ponder, squealing after a particularly hard thrust. He’s mouthing at your neck now, hips maintaining a steady, plundering pace, fucking into you so deliciously you know you won’t think of anything else for days.
“Darling,” he pants, voice cracking. “Please, my love. Let me feast.”
You moan and tilt your head, shamelessly giving him the access you know you’re both desperate for. Astarion groans as he sinks his fangs into your neck, once again gulping down a greedy mouthful. You feel a thousand miles away for a moment, though feeling returns to you as he lifts your hips up with one hand, desperately trying to shove as much of his cock into you as possible. You keen and moan at the onslaught of sensations, stars floating in your vision as the blood loss and impending orgasm threaten to drown you.
He’s groaning and growling and fuck, if it’s not the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. You register your legs as they lock around his waist, the feeling of his hand as it tangled in your hair, the icy numbness at your neck as he drinks his fill. It is all encompassing, the euphoria that overtakes you then. You hear something like his name slip past your lips in a throaty cry before your cunt bears down on his cock, white hot heat flooding your pussy as the sweet release of orgasm takes you. He lets out a load moan too and then you feel it, the feeling of his cock spilling every drop of seed into you. You moan dizzily, dazed, rocking your hips in tandem with his as you both ride out the last waves of your orgasms.
Finally, he pulls away from your neck and pants heavily by your ear, collapsing on top of you as the last of his orgasm tears through him. You feel so delightfully spent, bleary and half awake as he carefully pulls out of you, assessing the mess he made of you.
“You’re beautiful when you’re so cock-drunk, my love,” he whispers, headily. “Look at you, pet, so debauched. I’m honored to have been the one to ruin you like this.”
He pulls you into his arms and you manage a sleepy hum as you kiss his neck. “That was probably the greatest sex I think I’ve ever had,” you muse, sated. “However, I do think this blood bag should like some water. She’s been drunk dry.”
Astarion let’s out a lovely little laugh, kissing your forehead as he reaches behind you and takes your glass of water from the nightstand.
He smiles contentedly as you sip steadily.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, brushing your sweaty hair back from your face. “You are a gift.”
You smile back at him, allowing him to take your now empty glass and set it back on the table. You settle into him again, body heavy and achy and so sticky you feel a little embarrassed but nothing matters besides the kisses he smarts into your hairline.
“I don’t know if we’ll survive what’s to come,” he starts, gently. “But I do know I will spend every moment thankful to be by your side, come what may. I love you.”
“And I love you,” you respond, meeting his tender gaze. “I’m with you, Astarion, till the end.”
The both of you fall quiet and bask in the tenderness of the moment. You know what horrors lurk beyond the doors of the little inn you’d found yourselves, know that Cazador waits for him somewhere in the city, but you both resign yourselves to the tranquility of the moment.
He hopes one day, this will be his everyday.
For now, he is content to pretend with you for one night, to allow himself this small bit of grace before he walks towards whatever destiny has in store for him, come what may.