Chapter Text
When they finally came upon the inn, she felt as though she could have cried in relief.
In the year she had been travelling with Uhtred’s men, she has learned that it is a miracle in and of itself to sleep below a roof. Usually, they slept under the stars when they were travelling, huddled around a low burning fire with one hand clasped around a sword. But a mid winter storm- howling wind and spitting, icy rain- had been enough to send Uhtred fleeing into the nearest inn.
It is a quaint little place, though she has few to compare it to. Clean and sturdy with a fire burning hot enough to fill the room. A tavern sat half filled on the main floor with a handful of rooms staring down at them from a balcony that encircled it. Finan laughs when he sees it, not quite believing their good luck before slapping an excited hand against Sihtric’s arm, turning to grin at both she and Osferth. She mimics his smile before shaking the ice from her hair, hearing Uhtred mutter how he will go and inquire about a room, the others sounding their agreements quietly.
A rough hand steadying her head causes her to look up, meeting Osferth’s shy smile. He brushes what is left of the ice from her hair gently and though one could mistake the red painting his cheeks as chill from the night, she knows in her heart it’s a blush. He always blushes when he touches her.
Uhtred makes his way back to the group before she can say anything, Osferth’s arm brushing against her own as he turns forward.
“Two rooms left. You may fight amongst yourselves over who sleeps where, I am going to get a drink.”
He leaves it at that, turning back to make his way toward the barkeep after throwing them the keys. Finan catches the keyring in one quick hand, twirling it around his finger.
“I will share with Osferth,” she announces after a brief pause. “I have no desire to listen to the rest of you snore all night. I should like one night of peace.”
“You say that as if the baby monk does not snore as well,” Finan teases, though he still begins working one key free of the ring.
“He is much quieter than you lot. And takes up far less room besides.”
Sihtric snorts a laugh as Finan hands the key over. She snatches it quickly, bidding them both goodnight before making her way to the stairs. Osferth does the same before he is scurrying after her, falling in step beside her once they are on the balcony. She scans the doors until finding their own, slipping the key in and unlocking it.
The room is not terrible. A fire is already burning in the hearth, setting the room alight with a pretty red glow. The bed is nicer than she would have thought, though she can smell the straw the mattress is stuffed with even from where she is standing. The window has been bolted shut, but she can still hear the storm raging outside, the icy rain pelting itself against the shutters. It is simple, the room, but it is warm and it is dry and for that she is grateful.
A soft click rings through the room as Osferth locks the door behind them and then she is on him, half pinning him against the thick wood, both arms slinging around his neck. He makes a shocked noise against her lips but his hands close around the curve of her waist without a moment's more hesitation.
For all the passion she had first put behind it, it is more sweet than anything else. Eager and excited, both pausing every few seconds to laugh under their breath. She likes kissing him, likes the vague danger behind stealing a kiss when they’re on the road, watching him go flustered and pink. He has gotten more sure about it with time. What was first a hesitant press of lips, chaste and fleeting had turned into something more. He kisses her with a purpose now, using his teeth and tongue and occasionally daring to trail his mouth lower, to trace his lips along the delicate skin of her neck. More often than not, their lips are red and near bruised by the end of it, something she knows Finan in particular has begun to notice. He has yet to tease her about it. Though he looks at her with his eyebrows raised and a smug look on his face whenever she and Osferh return from one of their secret romps, he has not breathed a word.
Osferth’s hand tightens on her waist and he pushes himself off the door, guiding her further into the room. She follows blindly, curling one arm further around his neck to anchor herself to him, elbow hooking itself there, the other fiddling with the clasp of her cloak until it is off. He does the same with his own, casting it somewhere in the room. She feels the edge of the bed knock against her calf and turns so she may push him down on it instead. The smell of woody straw fills the air when he falls on to the mattress, stronger than before, but neither pay it any mind as she crawls into his lap, her thighs bracketing his hips. One of his hands reaches to cup her cheek, fingers threading through her hair with such care it makes her chest bloom with warmth.
She presses herself closer, breasts crushed against his chest, and his hand grips her hip, closer to her ass than she would have guessed. He all but yanks her into the cradle of his hips, more demanding than she is used to from him, and she feels herself smirk into his mouth. He kisses her like he wants to become one with her and she is more than willing. She will give him everything if he were to simply ask for it. Her heart, her soul, the very marrow of her bones. Any of it was his to take so long as he kept kissing her like this, if the heat in the pit of her belly continued to roar the way it was, a fire devouring all in it’s path.
One of her hands traces down his chest, fingers light as they trace along the seams of his cuirass, dipping down, and his breath hitches.
“Wait,” she hears him half gasp against her mouth and she pulls back, planting herself on his knees. They are both panting, having refused to breath anything but the other in, and she takes full advantage of the air now, waiting for him to speak. “We can’t… we can’t go any further than this.”
She is not entirely surprised to hear this. Despite the many times they have snuck away to kiss, they had never gone any further. Time had not allowed it, nor had circumstance. It would be difficult, she had reasoned, to do anything more whilst they were in Winchester or on the unyielding forest floor surrounded by the others. She had never expected anything more, not from the baby monk, but there has always been something akin to hope sitting in her chest. That he would want her the same way she wanted him. Wants him.
"Of course," she agrees, managing to smile in a way she hopes is reassuring as she pushes back further.
Though she tries to hide her disappointment, the sting of the rejection must show in her voice, as he panics. "It is not you! God knows I want to, it is just... I have no desire to father a bastard. I know what it is like to suffer because of it and I have no wish to place such a burden on my own child."
The confession is more than enough to soften her again and she smiles at him, smoothing her hands across his shoulders. Admittedly, she had expected God to be the one to stand between them but this is just as understandable. His own hand has yet to leave her waist, the other having fled her face to join it when she tried to abandon him, fingers digging into the skin as if he means to keep her there forever. She looks away from him, unable to hold his gaze any longer, and stares at the sturdy wooden walls of the inn. His answer runs over again in her mind and she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth in thought before meeting his eyes again.
“There is a way that we could… be together in that way that does not risk a bastard.”
He blinks rapidly for a moment. “But Uhtred said that-”
“Uhtred is unimaginative,” she interrupts before pressing herself closer. She feels almost shy as she says, “I could show you, if you would like me to.”
He nods rapidly and she laughs at the enthusiasm before shifting forward on her knees, until she is half hovering above his more than apparent bulge. Despite his eagerness, his chest is still rising and falling faster than she would like, so in a way she hopes is soothing, she ducks her head down to press a kiss to his neck. Immediately, he tilts his head back, desperate for any affection she is willing to offer. She has to bite down on her lip to keep from laughing, rewarding him with another quick string of kisses before leaning back once more. Slowly, keeping her eye on his face, she rolls her hips down, grinding against him. His hips immediately buck up to meet her, mouth falling open and she grins before doing it again. A choked sound this time before his hand is knotting itself in the hair at the nape of her neck and he is pulling her down to kiss her again, his lips searing.
Even through all the clothes they wear, layers upon layers in an attempt to stay warm, she can still feel him against her, pressing into where she needs him most. It makes her dizzy, the thought of being wanted by him, and she feels a fist tightening low in her belly, pleasure blooming through her. It only grows stronger when his hand closes around the front of her leather cuirass, so similar to his own, and begins to tug at it.
He pulls back from her mouth as if he is just as dizzy as she is, soaked through with the same lewd want that is taking hold of her. “Can I- Can you…”
She giggles again as she nods, bringing her own hands up to join his. Together, the work the buckles loose, fingers fumbling against one another when they begin on the laces of her tunic. Eventually they manage them and she pulls herself free of it as well, baring her chest to the room. Though she cannot be sure, she swears that she hears his breath hitch, his eyes immediately falling to her breasts. His free hand twitches at her side before it begins skirting upward, passed the dip of her waist, the cage of her ribs, before it finally comes to rest on the side of her breast. She had thought his hand would be cold, with the storm still raging outside their window and having already chilled them to the bone, but it’s warm and callused from training with his sword. His thumb brushes gently over her nipple, such a simple touch enough to make her draw in a sharp breath, eyes fluttering.
Her reaction makes him grin with pride, looking up to meet her eye as he grows bolder, cupping it in his hand. Though they have not been looking at one another long, both in half disbelief as they pant, she finds she cannot stand it any more, diving forward to grab hold of his face and kiss him again. He offers no argument, one hand still playing with her breast, the other wrapped tightly around her waist to encourage her to continue grinding down against him. She does so happily, feeling a coil begin to tighten in her belly.
He turns away from her mouth, lips skirting along her cheek, her jaw, down the column of her throat. Her fingers lace through his hair, holding him close and she continues to roll her hips against his own, her breathing steadily picking up. It nearly takes her by surprise when he continues his way down, pressing open mouthed kisses across her chest until he has reached her tits, and she gasps in a mix of shock and delight when his lips close around her nipple, his tongue laving over it. In truth, she didn't think he had it in him, but she is more than happy about it now, sighing contentedly as she holds his face to her chest, encouraging him to continue.
He lets out a small moan against her skin, hips canting up to meet her thrust for thrust, and she makes a noise a bit too similar to a whine. The heat in her belly is building steadily and though she knows she could find her peak this way, she wants more. She wants to feel more of him, bare skin against bare skin, without the heavy barrier of rough-hewn clothing between them.
“I… I know of something else too,” she gasps, her heart stuttering in her chest beneath his lips.
“Anything,” he breathes. “Anything.”
Her hands move down to his robes, pulling on them impatiently. “Take this off.”
He complies without complaint, though it takes him a moment to release her. She has to shift back in his lap for them to accomplish it, but she doesn’t dare stand, not wanting to be parted with him for a moment longer than she has to. Quickly, he shucks them off, leaving him half bare in only his breeches. The bulge is more apparent now, straining to be set free, but he pulls her back into him before she can get a good look at it. His kiss steals her breath away, one hand coming up to cup her jaw and keep her close, and it nearly manages to steal every thought from her head as well.
"We can touch," she manages between kisses. Her hand comes down between them, cupping over his cock. It is as if he has completely lost control of himself with how quickly his hips buck up into her hand, craving more. "Here. Nothing can come from touching."
The mere touch of her hand seems to have knocked every thought from him as well, staring up at her with hazy eyes. "And I can touch you too?"
She hums the affirmative, the sound breathier than it should be. He makes a happy little sound in the back of his throat, half a growl, before kissing her hard once more. It seems like a parting gift as he pulls back quicker than he has before, not daring to venture too far away.
“Tell me what to do.”
She nods before moving her hand up, reaching for the laces of his breeches. He understands what she means to do immediately, one hand reaching down to join her at her task. He does not let her aid him long, knocking her hand away the moment he deems them loose enough before pressing her flush against him, his face pressed tight against her sternum. He hums in delight as he lifts his hips as best as he can, shuffling his breeches down just enough to free his cock. A laugh breaks free of her and he tilts his head up to smile at her, chin digging into her breastbone. Her fingers are stroking along his cheekbones before she realizes she has brought her hand up, brushing the backs of them along the skin in a way that makes him preen.
The moment does not last long. After a second more, he is free of his revelry and his hands are working over her own breeches, half fighting with them in an attempt to get them off her legs without sacrificing her weight in his lap. She eventually pulls away, much to his chagrin, pulling her breeches from her legs before settling back in his lap.
Though she has promised to teach him, she cannot help but reach her hand down between them, languidly stroking at his cock. It’s longer than she had expected, hot and heavy in her hand. Her touch makes the breath catch in his throat, a small whimper escaping him. It is a challenge, to fight against her grin as she watches his eyes flutter, but he does not allow it long. He only allows himself to enjoy the feeling for a moment before his hand grips her wrist, forcing her to a halt.
“Tell me what to do,” he repeats, voice more strained now.
“Have the others not taught you?” she teases as she tugs her hand free of his grip, taking his own and guiding it between her legs.
It’s almost embarrassing, how wet she is, and a blush burns red across her cheeks, but his reaction is enough to keep some of her shame at bay. Though his mouth had been open, a retort likely on the tip of his tongue, the words die when his fingers skirt through her, sucking in a harsh breath. "Christ."
She can’t help but laugh. "Is it not a sin to take the Lord's name in vain?"
"He will forgive me,” he assures her. Of that, he seems adamant, though his eyes are locked between her legs. “Even He would not be able to resist a beauty like you.”
The blush returns tenfold and there is no fighting the soft smile that has made its way onto her face. Somehow the compliment is able to strike something more into her heart than just the placement of his fingers, and so she looks away from his face and down at their joined hands. She guides his hand up to the apex of her thighs, pressing his fingers further into herself.
“It feels best if you rub here,” she instructs, voice still higher and breathier than it should be. She can hear his heavy breathing in her ear as she pushes his hand down further once more. “You can go inside here as well, but slowly. Try to be gentle with it. And curl your fingers if you do. It feels better that way.”
He hums his agreement and she can feel his forehead knock against her own with his nod. She pulls her hand back, letting out a slow breath and letting him do as he will. There is half a moment of fumbling as he gets a feeling for it, but then it does not take more than a few passes of his hand for him to succeed at his task, running his fingers through her to wet them before bringing them up to her bud, tracing it in slow, determined circles. Her head falls back of its own accord, lips parting as bliss melts through her. She allows herself to simply enjoy it for a moment before moving to return the favour, hand lowering between their bodies, wrist brushing against his own. She takes his cock in her hand, begins stroking it as she had before.
It would be a miracle if the moan he let out was not heard from the hall. She shushes him quietly, laughing as she does it, and brings her free hand up to press her fingers against his mouth. He huffs a laugh of his own, cheeks growing pinker as warm breath puffs across her fingertips. She is sure that they share a joint prayer, that the others are still occupied downstairs before moving her hand faster, running her thumb along the head. He follows suit, the gentle circles turning into something more determined, wanting to see what exactly will happen if he keeps going.
Warmth is burning hot in her belly but it is not discomfort that it brings. She feels good, light and carefree and almost heavy, forehead pressed against his temple. They have all but collapsed in on each other, her legs spread wide over his open thighs, half perched as she leans into him. The blunt edge of his nose is digging into the side of her neck and he’s moaning in her ear, tiny whines and whimpers escaping him as if he has no control over them, and she wants to hear more, wants to take whatever he sees fit to give her.
His palm is warm, the heel of his hand pressed just right against her while one finger pushes inside, curling as she told him, and she wonders what it would feel like to have his cock there instead.
She jerks forward when he finds that sensitive spot inside her, the hand that has curled around his neck for balance tightening to the point of pain, mouth dropping open. He does not seem to mind it, grinning up at her as pride washes over him. The arm around her waist tightens to keep her close and he doubles his efforts, all but holding her down so she has no choice but to take it. Her hips roll forward without her permission and she lets out a keening whine that only spurs him on more. She does what she can to gain back the upper hand, the hand wrapped around him shifting to focus on the head and he lets out another too loud moan.
Her head ducks down and she kisses him again, silencing them both, but he still attempts to speak against her lips.
“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he groans, daring to push a second finger inside of her. The faint stretch of it makes her whine, arching into him. “I’ve dreamt about it near every night.”
“What did you dream about?”
“About how you would look when I took you, how you would sound. How your skin would feel against my own.” He nuzzles his head further into her then, as if he can’t quite get enough, as if she is some kind of drug that feels too good to part with.
The confession is almost enough to confuse her, and though her voice is still breathy and unfamiliar, she still asks, “You did not think of yourself?”
He shakes his head vehemently. “I did not think anything could feel as good as giving you pleasure. And I was right.”
He is so good. So sweet and kind and good that she can’t quite believe him to be real. Her hand shifts on his neck, lacing through his hair to press him ever closer, panting next to his ear as she continues to stroke him, to reward him for his goodness. He gasps into her neck, his own hand continuing to work at her determinedly, and she swears she feels the soft lick of his tongue along the side of her throat.
His fingers dig into her hip, his own canting up into her hand with more force than he had used before and then he is spilling into her hand, her skin not enough to keep him quiet. He moans into her neck, eyes squeezed shut as he fucks her hand through it. Though she had expected his peak to be the end for them both, his hand keeps going in spite of it, faster and faster until she falls apart with a cry, bowing into him.
There is a faint ringing in her ears when her pleasure finishes running through her, but it is quickly replaced by the sound of the rain ringing through the room, their joint panting just audible beneath it. Her face is pressed tight against the side of his throat though she doesn’t remember falling there. She feels his head turn, lips pressing a string of kisses into her hair before she pulls back, blinking up at him with tired eyes.
“Was that alright?” he asks, his voice shy despite what they had just done.
His timidness is entirely endearing and she nods. “Better than alright.”
He grins, all but glowing, a happy light shining through him before he falls, back flat against the bed. He does not abandon her for long, hands reaching out to tug on her after she has wiped her hand clean, dragging her over to lay across his chest. She giggles when she joins him, pressed flat against him, and he presses a sweet kiss to her forehead as he wraps his arms tight around her waist.
“Should you wish to teach me anything else, know that I am more than willing to continue to be your student,” he sighs, fingertips running lightly up her spine.
She laughs lightly again. She doesn’t know the last time she has laughed so much in such a short period of time. “I’m sure I can think of something else to teach you.”
He turns his head to face her, leaning close enough that his nose brushes against her own. “Soon, I hope.”
Another laugh. “Soon.”