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The sun’s warm rays filter through the glazed windows of his ornate bedroom. Jean becomes aware of a sculpted body melding against her own, of strong fingers that encapsulate her wrists and press them against the wall. And then—Good Barbatos—his lips press against hers once more, desirous and unrelenting. His knee comes up to press between her thighs gently, causing her hips to buck almost unwillingly against the welcome surface and emanating a gasp that makes her lips separate, inviting his tongue into her mouth.
She meets it with her own, and the ensuing dance sends currents of fire rippling down her skin, tingles of electricity up her spine. The heat pooling in her abdomen intensifies almost painfully, and her thighs press together against his lean, muscular leg, wanting more of it, more of him, more of everything. She pulls her hands free from his so that she could reach up almost restlessly to unbutton his shirt, to loosen his tie.
His fingers fly to her waist, flittering underneath her cotton shirt to skitter up her torso, making her shiver. They tighten around her breasts and entice a needy mewl from her when they knead her skin—gently at first, then harder, more fervently, his thumbs circling then enclosing around her taut nipples. Jean pulls away from his lips with a sharp intake of breath and finds him gazing down at her with unmasked desire, crimson eyes hooded and fiery as he takes in her flushed expression.
“Hello, Diluc.” She huffs out, and a reckless grin splits across his face, full of promise and danger.
“Hello there, crybaby.” His voice is a low grunt that sends a shiver up her spine.
Jean wants him—she wants him so badly that it actually hurts, and she reaches out to grab onto the fabric of his tie, pulling him closer towards her again with a tug that makes their bodies press together once more. His arousal presses against her through the decidedly thin fabric of her skirt, hard and inviting, and she grinds her hips against it to grant her needy warmth some sweet relief.
His eyes, almost luminously bright under the rays of the afternoon sun, are full of anticipation as he reaches out to press an almost tantalizingly chaste kiss against her lips, lingering and gentle and sweet. He pulls back from her with a smirk, and slowly, sensuously, reaches up with his hands to loosen his tie. Jean inhales sharply and all but throws herself against him, wrenching his hands off of the tie and returning them to where they belong on her body, crashing his lips against her own and drinking him in with arduous, never-ending desire.
His hand runs up her leg, dragging his nails against her skin and pulling up the fabric of her skirt as it goes. Jean pulls herself apart from his lips, biting down on her lip to inhibit the needy sigh that threatens to escape her. His fingers move provocatively inward, and he leans forward once more to press his lips against her ear.
“I want you, Jean.” He hums throatily. “Right here and now.”
Jean melts under his touch, a thousand stars bursting to life before her eyes, and opens her mouth to respond.
All too suddenly, the scene dissolves with a loud rap against wood.
Jean wakes with a start. She blinks rapidly, heart still racing after her… adventurous hallucinations, and tries to regain her bearings. She’s in her room, alone, quite a few miles away from Diluc’s bedroom at Dawn Winery where the picture of her desire had come to take shape. She pulls the covers up to her chin, releasing a shuddering gasp, and comes to the heart-wrenching realization that despite her state of wakefulness, she is still as needy as she had been in her dream.
The rap continues again, louder this time, and she realizes what it must be. Knocking. On her front door.
She sits up with alarm. Oh no, what was the time?
She manages to pull a dressing gown around her nightclothes before she makes her way out her bedroom and up to the front door. Her shaking fingers fumble with the lock, but eventually she gets it open and the door clicks open to reveal a frowning Kaeya.
“Jean?” He asks somewhat worriedly. “Are you ill? Is that why you haven’t come into work today?”
Jean flushes to the roots of her hair. She’s never been late to work once in all of her years working as a Knight of Favonius, but with that accursed dream… she must have been more intent on sleeping through it than she’s realized…
She runs a frazzled hand through her long, tousled hair. “No, sorry, I—er—overslept.”
“Overslept?!” Kaeya echoes in incredulous disbelief. Immediately his lone eye narrows at her curiously. Of course, Kaeya, who knows her almost as well as she knows herself, would find it incredibly suspicious that she’d allowed herself to become careless over her duty. “Listen, are you sure you’re okay? You look a bit red and everything…”
Jean’s eyes widen in alarm, and the incriminating blush on her cheeks darken. “All good!” She almost squeaks out. “Nothing to report. Um, thank you for checking up on me, Kaeya. If you would give me a few minute to freshen up before I head into the Headquarters, thank you…”
She anxiously tries to close the door on his face to escape his scrutinizing gaze. But Kaeya is for once quicker, and places a gloved hand on her door to impede the movement, studying her with even more interest now. Then, suddenly, his eye lights up in realization, and a mischievous smirk spreads across his features.
“Aha,” He teases. “Diluc stayed the night, I see.”
Jean’s jaw drops in incredulous embarrassment. “No, he most certainly did not! Not that that’s any of your business, you nosy miscreant.”
“Oh, really? Then why do you look like, ahem, like you’ve been”—
“Kaeya.” She interrupts sternly. “I forbid you to finish that sentence. I suggest you leave now, because I’ll be at the office in a few minutes.”
“Sure, sure.” He winks at her. “Guess you want to get another round in, huh? Who’d have thought my sweet little brother was the type to finish early?”
Jean scowls at him. “Kaeya!”
He walks away chuckling.
Jean does eventually manage to get to work, but not before she squeezes in a quick shower to calm down her agitated nerves. Her hair is still damp in its usual dignified ponytail when she gets to the office, but there wasn’t a moment to waste. The half an hour or so that’d been lost to her due to her – ahem – dreamland situation had been time enough for the usual documents to pile up atop her desk.
She sits in her chair with a sigh, and starts attending to the first one. All throughout her work, she is interrupted by steamy visions of Diluc mysteriously appearing in her chamber and pressing her against various surfaces of the office, perhaps the window, perhaps her principled bookshelf, perhaps her neatly organized desk, in several compromising positions that embarrasses her as much as it excites her. But she is nothing if not diligent, and she actually does manage to get some work done even through the uncontrollable fecund of her imagination.
This all goes to the dust when Diluc saunters into her office around midday, clutching the usual package of lunch in his hands, followed by a sneaky Kaeya whose duplicitous grin she doesn’t appreciate one bit. He looks as dignified as ever in his dusky coat and formal shirt, but Jean gulps when his gloved fingers come up to straighten his dark necktie. He smiles appreciatively at the blush on her face.
“Not too busy to spare a moment for me, Acting Grandmaster?”
“U-Um, of course not.” She stammers out. “I’m starving, actually. Is that pizza?”
She all but grabs the bag out of the surprised Diluc’s hands, desperate to find something else to train her eyes on so that she wouldn’t be assailed by the ludicrous memories of the night prior. The pizza from Cat’s Tail is her favorite, and it does distract her even if only a little bit, mostly due to the fact that she’d woken late and therefore been obliged to skip breakfast.
“Hungrier than you thought?” He comments amusedly as Jean hurriedly shoves a slice into her mouth. She scowls at him with bulging cheeks as he takes a seat on the table in front of her, crossing his decidedly irresistible long legs one over the other.
Kaeya hovers by the table curiously, and looks between her flushed face and Diluc’s bemused expression with a raised eyebrow. He narrows his lone eye at Jean.
“Well, isn’t this a surprise?” He murmurs conspiratorially. “What could our honorable Acting Grandmaster have been up to this morning without her beloved paramour?”
Jean nearly chokes on her food, but she could do little else other than glare at Kaeya since her mouth was otherwise preoccupied.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Diluc sighs, as grumpy as ever when it comes to his estranged brother, and perhaps more so because it seems that he’s aware of a secret about Jean that he doesn’t know. “It’s because you speak in riddles all the time that nobody likes you. That, and the fact that you’re still an asshole after all these years.”
“There’s the tasteful Diluc Ragnvindr we all know and love.” Kaeya mutters dryly. “And I’m certain that our—ah—maybe virtuous Acting Grandmaster knows exactly what I’m talking about.”
Diluc cocks a confused eyebrow at her. Jean averts her gaze to the table, and avoids his eyes.
“Jean!” Kaeya pretends to be aghast, clutching a hand to his chest with dramatic flair. “Don’t tell me you’re being unfaithful to my beloved little brother?”
Jean sighs exasperatedly, and Diluc gives him a dangerous glare.
“Right, that’s enough out of you.” He points a menacing finger at him. “Get out.”
Kaeya rolls his eyes. “I’m only jesting.” But he pivots around to make his way to the door anyway. “You kids stay chaste, now.”
Diluc harrumphs in frustration as he departs the chamber chuckling. Jean swallows down her last bite of pizza in a dangerously big gulp, and quickly washes down the lump in her throat with some water. Diluc watches her strange behavior with a raised eyebrow, and then rises from his seat to cross over to her side of the table. He gathers her up into his arms to give her a tight embrace that makes her heart stumble.
Even the mere feeling of his arms around her sends her into overdrive. She pulls back slightly from him, unable to resist pressing their lips together. Diluc makes a muffled noise of surprise against her lips, but is quick to return her advances in kind, kissing her intently and biting down on her lip to grant himself entry. He trails his tongue along the roof of her mouth, and Jean sighs in need, abdomen clenching tightly with desire.
At length, when they pull apart, Diluc is out of breath and grinning like a madman. His fingers travel up her spine from the small of her back to disappear into the waves of her damp hair.
“Well.” He hums. “Are you going to tell me what all this is about?”
“It’s nothing.” Jean mumbles back, trying not to think about the way his body presses against hers. “Just Kaeya being foolish as usual.”
“Oh?” Diluc muses, leaning in to lightly skate his lips across her jaw. Jean shuts her eyes tightly, holding back the embarrassing noise threatening to escape her. “Then why, pray tell, are your cheeks crimson?”
“My cheeks are not crimson!” Jean protests, blushing harder. Diluc presses a soft kiss behind her ear, lips tracing down her neck and leaving a trail of fire in its wake. A hum frees itself from her throat unwillingly, and perhaps it’s due to the delirious effect of his teasing lips but she finally relents the truth with a sigh. “Fine. I might have… had a dream.”
“A dream.” He echoes against her skin. His breath is hot and tingly against her neck. “That sounds interesting. A good one?”
“Diluc!” She chastises, embarrassed beyond words. She’s not about to start discussing it with him, much less right now in the Grandmaster’s chamber where she’s supposed to be doing her work. “Please…” She stumbles on her words because her mind is dizzy from his ministrations.
This whole event is… mortifying enough as is… without having to go into the sordid details.”
His fingers tighten on her ponytail, giving it a gentle tug to expose more of her neck to his lips. He nips lightly up her skin, not enough to leave a mark but certainly enough to make her gasp, and when his lips come to rest at her ear he drags his teeth across her lobe, making her shudder. Then all at once, he pulls away from her, leaving her an incomprehensible mess torn between embarrassment and wanting more.
He frowns at her sternly. “You shouldn’t keep your hair tied when it’s wet.” His nails drag up her nape, across her scalp, up to the ribbon she uses to keep her hair up. He tugs on the end of it slowly, causing her hair to come loose and flow around her shoulders. The need in her gut flares into an inferno, and she flushes a dangerous crimson that would make the pyro regisvine hang its head in shame.
“That’s better.” He gives her a small smile. Jean can’t look away from the unabated desire in his eyes. His desire for her. The thought makes her shiver. He leans in again to press a gentle kiss onto her lips. Jean kisses back urgently, but all too soon he pulls away from her. She pouts. This can’t do.
“Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” He asks of her softly. “We could make a trip to the winery.”
Jean swallows. Oh, she would like that very, very much. However…
“I’m afraid I have a lot of work.” She says unhappily. “I’m not sure I can find the time.”
Diluc frowns. “I’m sure one of your subordinates will be happy to fill in for one night.” Very deliberately, he brings his long fingers up to her bare shoulder where they disappear underneath the fabric of her cape and trace circles against the gooseflesh on her skin.
Jean emanates a shaky sigh.
“I-I can ask someone.” She says in a small voice. Anything for more of his touch…
Diluc grins recklessly. He leans in to press a kiss on her cheek, and then whispers into her ear: “I’ve been wanting you for so long, Jean Gunnhildr. Pick you up at seven?”
Jean nods eagerly, a nervous anticipation settling into her stomach.
Even long after he leaves her, Jean finds it hard to focus on her work when all she can think about is the sensation of his lips skating underneath her jaw.
Diluc is on her doorstep as promised, holding a bouquet of cecilias in his hand and looking extraordinarily handsome with his red hair loose and tumbling around his shoulders. Jean has spent the past hour or so being pampered and primed by a lecherously excited Lisa, and is dressed in a lacy maroon frock that hangs off of her shoulders and hugs her waist to flare out till her knees, which are covered in a black stocking that Lisa had all but forced on her.
“These are mine and I want them back.” She’d said with a smirk, adjusting them onto her thighs.
Jean had frowned at her. She hadn’t even mentioned to the librarian what the real agenda for tonight was, but she seemed to have figured it out nonetheless. “Are you sure about this? You seem unreasonably invested into my date…”
“Are you kidding?” Lisa had laughed. “Of course I’m invested! I’ve been waiting for you two to get together for years, now.” She’d clasped her hands together delightedly at the results of her work. “You look like a dream, sweetie. Diluc’s going to lose his mind.”
Jean flushes now as Diluc gives her an approving once-over. With a meaningful glint to his red eyes, he holds out the flowers. “Red is a good color on you, Acting Grandmaster. Here.”
Jean retrieves the bouquet from him with a knowing smile. “No dandelions this time?”
“Perhaps I’ve saving those for a more special occasion.” He grins at her and clasps their fingers together, tugging her out through the door. Jean stumbles after him, mortified at the implication behind those words. She tries very hard not to think of an intrusive image of walking down an aisle dressed in white towards a smiling Diluc waiting for her at the altar.
His arm wraps around her waist, making her want to lean further into his warmth. “Come,” His lips brush against the top of her hair. “Let’s go home.”
After an exquisite dinner at the winery, Diluc leads her upstairs to his quarters with a couple of glasses and a bottle of dandelion wine. Again, Jean marvels at the timeless beauty of the winery. The candlelit room is reflected back at her from the great frosted windows encompassing an entire section of the far wall. The four poster bed and its accompanying divan are a vision of grandeur and splendor in ebony wood and cordovan bedding. Her nervousness amplifies with each step she takes inside, and she decides to take a seat on the divan first because the sight of the huge bed and all the promises that came with it is making her head spin with dizzy anticipation.
Diluc throws his coat haphazardly onto the divan beside them, hands her a glass of wine and takes a seat beside her. Jean raises an eyebrow at him as he sips from his own glass.
“Wine again?” She teases. “You’re going to set a bad precedent, Diluc. I’m beginning to think you’re fond of the taste after all.”
Diluc rolls his eyes. “Would it be believable if I said it was to soothe my nerves?”
“You’re nervous?” Jean blinks, heat creeping back onto her cheeks. Nervous about… about performing the act of intimacy with her? She studies him curiously, and takes a sip of the wine, appreciating the resulting haziness that settles into her brain. “Am I… I mean, is this… your first time?”
Diluc stares at her questioningly, and she raises her eyebrows meaningfully. His face relaxes in understanding, and a wry smirk makes its way onto his lips. “And if it wasn’t?”
Jean frowns. She’d been expecting it, but for some reason it still irks her to think of him in compromising positions with women other than her, to imagine his long, gentle fingers caressing someone else the way he does to her. Diluc grins widely at her unhappy expression.
“Jealous?”
Jean scowls at him. “Isn’t it only natural to be?”
“Now, now.” Diluc teases her. “Let’s not pretend to be all modest. Aren’t you the one who’s made out with Lisa Minci?”
Jean’s cheeks color a dark burgundy, and she swats him on the shoulder. “Diluc! I thought I’ve clarified that Kaeya had been lying about that. It was a friendly kiss on her cheek, and I hardly think I should be crucified for”—
“Good.” He interrupts, eyes shuttered as he looks over at her.
“Good?” Jean stammers back, distracted.
“Good.” He clarifies, and Jean inhales sharply at the fire burning behind his eyes. “Because you’re all mine.”
It’s hard to discern who lunges first, but suddenly Jean is atop him with his hands pinned to either side on the divan, lips pressing fervently together. Their glasses tumble from their hands and onto the wooden floor, the dark liquid seeping from the flutes and staining the wooden floor. She hardly notices. In fact, she notices nothing at all aside from the feel of his warm body through her dress and the way his lips dance against her own.
He frees his hands from her grasp and brings them around her, dancing up her spine and delving into the tresses of her loose hair. He parts his lips and runs his tongue across her bottom lip, hot and warm and wet, and Jean shudders and meets it with her own. She’s aware of his arousal pressing against her thigh, hard and inviting, and when he grinds her hip experimentally against it he hums against her lips throatily, his teeth coming down to press onto her bottom lip in a way that makes her gasp.
They break apart for air, and Jean takes in the flushed arches of his face and marvels at the fact that this man was hers, all hers.
“Bed.” She manages to whisper, before Diluc scoops her up in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist where their hips come into contact against the thin film of her panties. Jean crashes their lips together once more, unable to wait, and bucks against him instinctively, wanting to feel more of him. Diluc grunts in desire into her mouth, a sound full of promise and yearning that stokes the ever-raging fire in her abdomen.
He tugs her heels off with a gentle hand, gloved fingers a soft caress against her feet, and drops her unceremoniously against the soft cushion of the bed. Jean resists the urge to pull him back down atop her as he tugs off his own boots and socks, and eagerly grasps his face to pull him close against hers when he clambers atop her. The bed indents beside her when he props himself up above her.
He leans in close as if meaning to kiss her, and dodges her lips with a smirk that makes her head spin. Instead he finds purchase on her neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed, hot kisses down her skin. Her hands travel downward, from his hair to his neck to his clothed back, eager and desperate for more of him. His teeth nip the skin between her collarbones teasingly, and soothes the bite with another warm, wet kiss that makes her emit a shaky sigh.
His hand runs up the lacy bodice of her torso, fingers coming up to tightly curl around one breast. Jean shuts her eyes, back arching for more of his touch, but this thought is suddenly driven to the very back of her mind as a heat envelops her other breast. She hums at the sensation of his lips enclosing around her pert nipple over the fabric of the dress that guards her body, tongue coming out to flick against it through the lacy film. His thumb circles her other nipple, and she gasps at the sensation of his gloved nail dragging over the tip of her breast and against her areolas.
He’s sucking on her through her dress, Jean realizes, and the thought makes her flush. But the embarrassment is drowned out by the waves of pleasure, and her hands fly back up to his hair, pushing him closer. Diluc grins against the soft material, rewarding her nipple with a bite that makes her jump. He laps at it afterward, soaking the dress through in mere moments.
When at long last he lifts himself off of her, Jean is almost dizzy with desire. Diluc shifts infinitesimally so that his aroused cock presses against the soaked fabric of her panties, making her moan, and ruts his hips as he pulls harshly at the fabric of her dress, ripping the flimsy lace apart without a care in the world to expose the breasts he’d been cherishing only moments earlier. Jean might’ve reprimanded him had she had even a lick of sense of left in her, but at present it’s hard to think about anything else other than the way his cock feels against her cunt and the lurid desire in his eyes as he drinks her exposed form in.
Diluc throws the remnants of the ruined dress somewhere behind him, and Jean resists the urge to cover her chest as he takes her in. His eyes run down the flushed skin of her neck, over one pink erect nipple and the other, and further down the strong muscles of her abdomen and stumbling over the black stocking and matching panties. He licks his lips, and Jean flushes crimson.
“D-Diluc,” She manages to gasp out. “Don’t just stare.”
“Can’t help it.” He murmurs out. He sits up to remove his gloves slowly, one after the other. His eyes are clouded with desire. “You’re beautiful.”
This little exposition of skin, of just his smooth patrician hands, drives Jean crazy and suddenly she’s overcome with the need to see more of him, to pull away every piece of clothing on his body and see whether the rest of him is as strong and sculpted as she’d always imagined. She sits up and pushes him back so that they fall back onto the bed with her atop him, lips together, hands restlessly unbuttoning his shirt and loosening his tie.
Diluc’s hands travel through her hair, down the exposed skin of her back and onto her bottom, fingers pressing against her skin through her panties and pulling her hips down until the warmth between her thighs is in contact against his arousal once more. Jean breaks apart from him with a flustered mewl. Diluc smiles at her reaction, hip curling underneath her to roll against her cunt and enticing another one of her moans.
He allows her to remove the unbuttoned shirt and his tie, where they disappear somewhere into the room behind her, and suddenly there is very little separating them. Diluc props himself up onto his elbows to meet her anxious lips as she presses her body against him, breasts squished against the bare skin of his muscular chest as she yearns to move closer, even closer.
Her hands fly down the sides of his torso, reaching between the miniscule space between them to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants. She tugs it down urgently, freeing his cock from his clothes in the process; it springs free, warm and erect against her thigh as she kisses him.
Good Barbatos, she wants him now. She wants him inside her, she wants to feel his fullness moving within her body, driving her crazy and to the point of incoherence. She pushes her soaked panties to a side and lifts off of him, adjusting her hips so that his cockhead presses against her moist opening, hard and inviting and ready for her.
“Wait.” Diluc mumbles against her lips, and to her dismay pushes her down onto her back, away from him. She wants to protest, to rise up and take him in her, but is distracted by the sight of him hovering over her, bare-chested and glorious. His body is sculpted and lean, flushed with desire and every bit as beautiful as she’d imagined. His face is slack with need, eyes low and burning as he takes in her equally desirous expression.
Diluc pulls himself off of her and settles in between her legs, hands gripping onto and pulling her soiled panties down her stocking clad legs and off of her. She’s entirely naked before him now, save for Lisa’s stockings, and this thought flitters across her mind only to disappear when a meaningful hand slides up her bare thigh. His fingers grip the plush skin there, pulling gently to coax her leg to rest over his shoulder, calf falling across his back and shifting her drenched lips tantalizingly close to his face. Jean blushes when she realizes what he means to do.
Diluc exhales across the sensitive flesh, smirking at the resultant roll of Jean’s hips and the small moan that flings free from her throat. “Since it’s your first time…” He kisses the insides of her thighs gently, moving inward. His crimson eyes, hooded with need, look up at her from between her legs as he brushes his lips against her labia, skin around his mouth glistening with the moisture there. His voice is heady. “…I want to do this right.”
His tongue and lips move against her with reckless abandon, sucking and pulling at her clit. Jean gasps out in delighted alarm at the sensations roiling through her, and eagerly brings up her hands to bury themselves into his hair, pressing him against her desperately. Spurred by this encouragement, Diluc’s ministrations increase in their pace and intensity, lips and tongue restless against her opening. He strokes his tongue against her in small circles, further down to her entrance to poke inside her infinitesimally, teasing her, before pulling back to lick broadly along her cunt and suckling hard on her clitoris.
He’s good, she realizes, head spinning. Too good for this to be his first time, but who cares about that when his teeth brush against her clitoris, enticing a keening mewl followed by a high-pitched gasp when he moves slightly downward to gently wiggle his tongue inside her entrance, nose rubbing circles against her sensitive nub, sending a shockwave of electric pleasure up her spine and straight into her head.
Stars burst to life before her eyes, and the heat in her abdomen coils infinitely, ready to peak. Her legs shudder against him, and Jean bucks against the circular motions of his tongue, wanting more, more and more, and then, right when she’s about to reach the precipice… he pulls away.
She groans in frustration, eyes clenching shut in dismay as the raging sensations resettle in the form of a burning heat in her gut, but Diluc is nowhere near done. He rises back up her body, leaving wet kisses up her torso and on her breasts, until they’re kissing once more. She welcomes his tongue into her mouth, tasting him and the remnants of her own desire, and kisses him back with feverish intensity. At the same time, his nails drag up the inside of her thigh, until a teasing thumb presses lightly against her clit.
Jean almost whimpers with need against his lips, and pulls back from him to give him a tortured glance. His own expression is cloudy, but he bows his head down immediately to suckle against the sweet spot on her neck.
“Diluc…” She huffs out. “Please, I need more.” Her hands reach down almost against her will to guide his fingers towards her entrance. Diluc obliges, sinking one finger deep into her folds and making her cry out when he circles his thumb against her clit.
“Mm, Jean.” He hums against her skin, and Jean arches her back when he introduces another digit within her. “I want to see that expression on your face every day after this.”
That should’ve embarrassed her, but she’s way past sanity at this point. She rolls her hips back and forth on his fingers, and Diluc pauses his ministrations save for the circling of his thumb in mild amusement to watch her dance. The enjoyment on his face quickly returns to desire as her body rolls underneath him, a beautiful vision of roses and cream, yearning for him, begging for him.
Jean clenches her thighs around his hand as she dances on his fingers, hips rolling and circling and swaying in place. Diluc gasps suddenly, and his fingers escape from her in a flash, making her reel with disappointment at the ensuing emptiness.
This second denial makes her cry out, and she reaches down with her own hand to give herself some sweet-needed release. Diluc raises off of her, eyeing her lecherously as she presses down and rubs against her clit with her middle and index finger, almost feverish with helpless desire.
“Keep doing that.” He instructs, and the low timber of his voice makes Jean shudder. Jean watches him as he sweeps his long red hair back with a smirk, and slowly tugs off his belt and the rest of his clothing. She eyes his arousal, long and veiny and hard, and wonders with anticipation how it would feel to finally, finally have him inside her.
Diluc readies himself, shifting until his cock presses against her moist cunt. Her legs separate almost instinctively, spreading apart to welcome his erect arousal, and the sensation of his cockhead repeatedly rutting against her entrance combined with the movements from her own fingers makes her eyes roll back into her head, shuddering and gasping like she’s lost all control of herself—which to be fair, she’s had.
Diluc groans gutturally, and she tenses her legs in anticipation, anxious to feel him inside her. He runs his cock over her cunt, sliding against her fingers and glistening with his precum and combining with her juices. Then he retracts, pressing harder against her opening, enough to inch his way inside a little and making her gasp. He pushes his way in slowly, and Jean’s hand trembles against her clit, pausing her ministrations as she gets used to the fullness within her.
Diluc grasps her now still hand, and brings it up to his face to lick the juices off of each finger, nipping and sucking her skin and making her gut clench with need. He entwines it with his own afterward, and brings it up over her head to pin it against the bedding, leaning forward with the motion so that he’s atop her, needy eyes boring into her own.
“You okay?” He murmurs, and Jean nods fervently because ah, she wants him, wants him now.
Diluc rolls his hip forward until he’s completely buried within her, and Jean throws her head back because Barbatos, he feels so good inside her, stretching her out fully and filling her in. When he pulls back and thrusts again, her mind dissolves into nothingness.
“Jean, you feel amazing…” He huffs out, pulling out to thrust back in. His voice breaks with a grunt between each word. “I'll never stop wanting you. I’ll have you again, and again, and again…”
The promise in his words and the fervent emotion behind it makes her sigh with anticipation. She’ll want him too, just like this and in a thousand ways more, again and again, for the rest of their lives. Could anything ever feel better than this?
Diluc thrusts in and out, in and out, at a steady pace that makes her hips roll every time he’s in and her body arch every time he’s out. She’s aware of his eyes roving over her, watching the smooth undulations of her breasts and the arch of her neck, the separated slackness of her mouth and the unclouded heat in her eyes, but she hardly cares, for right now, right here, nothing could ever matter more than the feeling of his cock stroking against her inner walls, making her shudder and sending waves of pleasure that seems endless and infinite, pushing her to kingdom come.
“Diluc…” She moans out. “Faster.”
And who is he to deny what they both wanted? He gasps in pleasure as he increases the pace of his rolling hips, and Jean reaches upward to grab onto the back of his neck with her free hand, pulling him down till their lips come together. Her pinned arm strains against his strength as he thrusts in and out of her, and her free arm trails downward with intensity, nails digging into his back and leaving red marks on his skin.
She brings her knees up to her chest, allowing for a deeper angle, and Diluc slips further into her with relish.
“Yes…” She gasps out into their entwined lips. “Yes, there…”
His cock strokes along her sweet spot with every exit and re-entry, and Jean feels herself beginning to clench tightly around his length as the heat in her abdomen coils infinitely stronger. Diluc senses this, and slows down to a more languid pace that makes her cry out in protest, her hips moving and rutting against him desperately because she wants to come, she just wants to come…
“Just wait a little bit more for me, crybaby.” Diluc mumbles against her lips, and suddenly she finds herself being flipped around onto her stomach, Diluc pushing into her from behind.
His hands grab onto her waist, pulling her butt against him and resuming an increasingly faster pace of thrusting in, then out, in, then out, in, then out. The room becomes filled with the squelching noises of their coming together, along with the throaty moans of pleasure that escape his lips and the incoherent mumbles that come out through her own mouth.
“Yes, Diluc… There, like that, please… Mm,” The room itself has disappeared to her behind the fireworks exploding in her brain, and it’s all she can do to prop her forehead against her arms because her legs have seemed to go numb under the increasing waves of pleasure that storm through her body.
The heat in her gut mounts again, ready to spill over the precipice, yearning for sweet relief, and Jean rolls her hips back against him in time with his motions, ready, eager, desperate.
One of his hands snakes around her body, tantalizingly brushing and then pressing onto her clit, and Jean might have actually screamed had she had any strength left in her body. His other hand travels up the side of her torso, closing around one of her shaking breasts and grasping onto a pebbled nipple to knead it harshly.
At this, Jean finally unravels into a spiral of desire as she comes around him, stars dancing behind her eyes, toes curling, legs trembling and body shaking. Her walls tighten around him intensely, and Diluc lets free a ragged moan signaling his own release.
“Aah, Jean,” His voice is broken, heady with need. “I can’t… I might… in you.”
The very thought sends an excited chill down her spine. She makes a muffled sound of assent, still too weak for proper words, and he comes within her in three long bursts, filling her up with his seed. His knees must have given way, for he falls atop her to lie collapsed upon her back, breath heavy and warm against her neck.
Jean relaxes against his weight, smiling against the smooth bedding. Diluc pulls himself out of her and kisses her neck softly, gently.
“That was amazing.” He mumbles against her skin.
Jean twists around so that they’re facing, and marvels once more at the beautiful arches of his face, and the curtaining tresses of his red hair.
“For me as well.” She breathes out, leaning up to press a chaste kiss onto his lips. “That was… that was amazing.”
Diluc smiles at her, and then rolls off to lay on the bed beside her. Jean shivers at the exposition of the cool air against her heated skin, and Diluc must have felt the same. He sits up with a sore groan to gather up the quilt at the edge of the bed and pulls the comforter over them both, pulling Jean into his arms to brush his lips on the top of her head afterwards.
“I meant what I said.” He murmurs. “I’ll never stop wanting you, ever.”
Jean cuddles close against him, burying her face in the crook of his neck and inhaling his musky, familiar scent. She grins against his skin.
“We’re going to have to do something about my schedule.” She says wryly. “Otherwise, we might end up doing this in the Grandmaster's chamber.”
Diluc chuckles. “Sounds like a good idea, actually.”
“Oh, yes.” She deadpans, flushing at the thought. “Having Kaeya walking in on us in a compromising position is my greatest fantasy.”
Diluc sighs, and then tilts her head up to a press a kiss onto her lips. “I love you more than anything.” He murmurs. “I hope you know that.”
Jean smiles. “I love you too, Diluc.”
She snuggles deeper against him, and lets the rhythm of his heart along with the exhaustion in her bones lull her to a comfortable, satisfied sleep.
fin