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“Ah…”
She likes him like this—open mouthed, glassy eyed, her first and second orgasm of the night still drying in his beard. She’s lost count of how many they’re on now, but this is where he’d tapped out last time: spread open around some pretty glass piece of hers. It’s why she went to the trouble of bringing one all the way from Enbarr.
After all the work she did to eliminate the Crest-based caste system in Fodlan, perhaps it was hypocritical to abuse their power like this. She’d come up with some justification for it, surely, when she was more clear-headed and concepts like ideological consistency mattered. The point was this: both the Crest of Flames and the Crest of Riegan had restorative properties. And, in Edelgard’s humble opinion, that same power that had kept them in fighting shape throughout the war was far better utilized in pushing their refractory periods to near-nothing.
“First one to tap out has to host the next one?” he’d suggested, with a wide grin and a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
That had been a little over a year ago. By the end of the night, Edelgard had wiped that grin right off his face.
She’s rather intent on taking the same trip next year. Let him organize the dinners, the diplomats, and the tours; let him handle security; let him upend his palace for the better part of a month while Edelgard eats plates of powdered nougat and soaks her feet in the courtyard pool. A few hours of hard work between silk sheets were vastly preferable to all the bureaucracy involved in hosting an international summit.
Seeing as this very act had lost him the prior year’s competition, the last thing Edelgard expected was for Khalid to gift her with a new toy to fuck him with; roughly the length and girth of her old one, but downright fancy compared to the pragmatic design of the former. Light purple in color, with a flared base and a subtle curve. The material is unusual—more pliable than glass, but still rigid enough for the job. It fits perfectly in her harness—almost as perfectly as it fits inside him.
“Shit—shit, Edelg—ah!”
Edelgard smirks, rolling her hips hard—half to get some pressure against her clit, half to hear him make that sound again. The movement sends a rush of renewed vigor through her veins, her Crest doing its job to keep her in perfect shape.
How thin the line between fighting and fucking must be, for their Crests to not know the difference. It’s certainly thinner between the two of them than she imagines it is for most couples. They’ve never done anything that could be described with as heart-rending a term as “making love.” It’s always been a frantic competition, even before responsibility for hosting the annual summit was on the line. They’ve always had something to prove, either to one another or themselves. Never mind what that something might be. She doesn’t know. Not right now.
Even fucked near out of his mind, Khalid can’t keep his mouth shut. He laughs, as if to himself, the sound of it hitching on each of Edelgard’s thrusts. “C-come on, that all you’ve got?” he says, thrusting his hips back up against her. It’s all she can do to avoid being shoved off him entirely by the force of it.
Rather than responding, she elects to do something about those damn legs of his. He’s got too much leverage like this, one foot flat on the bed and the other hooked at the knee over her shoulder. She grabs the underside of the knee on his braced leg and pushes it up and forward. She likes how flexible he is. The new position leaves him more open for her. Allows her to slide in deeper. Makes it harder for him to push back against her.
Khalid curses and squirms as she resumes her pace, kicking his legs out uselessly, completely at her mercy. She keeps his knee pinned against his chest with one hand and reaches her free one down to wrap around the length of him.
That does it. His next orgasm spurts across his stomach, and Edelgard fucks him through it as he writhes and keens. He’s gorgeous, dark brown curls matted against his sweaty face. She loves him.
“Hah, hah…”
She makes one last deep thrust and holds there, grinding her hips flush against his. “Had enough yet, Khalid?”
His cock twitches in her hold, still hard, but this game of theirs has always been more mental than physical. There’s still that spark of something in his eyes and—oh, he’s going to make this difficult, isn’t he?
He is. She realizes too late that he has more leverage than she thought, that those damned wyvern rider’s thighs are stronger than she remembers. He flips their positions in an instant and the toy slips out of him with an obscene schlop, slapping back against Edelgard’s lower belly. His breath is hot and heavy when he kisses her, and she can’t help but moan into his mouth as slides back in.
They look ridiculous, she assumes. He hadn’t even bothered to remove the harness before getting back to it, and the toy jostles between them with every thrust. Edelgard can’t find a reason to care how they look, though, not while she’s still dizzy from being flipped, from being kissed, from being fucked into the mattress again. It’s enough to make her pity him—the toy is nice, but there is nothing she can do to make it emulate the warmth of the real thing. She wants to make him feel this—this burning hot, insistent stretch. She settles for clenching around him.
He makes a choked noise and breaks their kiss to burry his face against her neck, sucking a bruise into the spot just under her right ear. She feels him smirk against her skin as he reaches one hand between them to grip the base of the toy, still lodged snug against her clit. She giggles because she thinks it’s a joke. He’s mimicking what she just did to him, as if she can feel anything more than a subtle pressure against her mound when he strokes the toy like it’s a real cock.
Then he does something—more subtle than a flick of the wrist—and Edelgard yelps as if she’s been electrocuted. The sensation is over just as quickly, stopped by another twitch of his fingers. Khalid pushes himself up, takes one look at her expression, and begins to laugh.
Edelgard is less amused. “What—”
“Okay, you’re right, that was a bit cruel of me.” There’s not a hint of apology in his voice. He’s still laughing. “Let me see…”
She’s about to ask him what the hell he just did, when his hand flinches at the base of the toy again. The sensation returns, no less intense than it had been the first time despite the implication that he’d done something different. It’s like nothing she’s ever experienced before, nothing she knows how to describe. Somewhere beneath the cries punched from her gut, something is buzzing. Her legs begin to shake. Khalid is still laughing at her. If she “accidentally” kicks him, it’s his own fault.
“Kh—fuck!”
“If it’s too much, you’re welcome to tap out.” He has the decency to sound breathless, at least.
It isn’t until he starts to roll his hips again that Edelgard realizes he’d ever stopped. He fucks her lazily, a slow slide in and out. In normal circumstances she’d goad him for such a pace, but she knows she wouldn’t last long if he fucked her like he meant it now. She’s just getting used to the combined sensations—his cock dragging inside of her, the buzzing pressure against her clit—when a familiar light flashes in his eyes, and Edelgard realizes he wasn’t waiting for her.
Khalid puts the new energy bestowed upon him by his blood directly into the thrust of his hips. Words meant to curse the entire Riegan family line leave Edelgard’s lips in an incoherent warble. She begins to writhe against the sheets, her body trying to escape the overstimulation. His free hand finds her hip—his right, his bow arm—and draws her like one of his bow strings. Every muscle in her body tenses and shakes. She can’t fight his draw strength like this. All she can do is grip his wrist, knock her head back against the pillows, and cry out as she spasms uncontrollably around him.
And Khalid—he’s evil, she hates him—just holds it there while he chases his own release. It’s too much, too much, until it isn’t, until the incessant pressure and vibration push her over the edge again, the aftershocks of one orgasm rolling seamlessly in to the waves of the next. Her vision blurs, the world around her disappears, the sound of Khalid’s voice in her ear fades out into static.
The damn thing is still buzzing when her senses return to her. He doesn’t have it pressed right against her anymore, but the barely-there sensation of it hovering just above her sore clit is almost worse. She moans something that she intends to be his name.
He’s still there, still inside her. He releases her hip to brush her hair back off her face. “El? You with me?”
He almost sounds concerned, the bastard. She smacks his hand away from the base of the toy and tries, best she can with the way her brain is still buzzing, to figure out how he got it to stop. Failing that, she tries for the buckles of the harness, but finds her fingers clumsy. How did she ever get this thing on?
“Hey, easy, easy,” Khalid says from somewhere miles above her. “You done?”
“Khalid,” she spits his name like she hates him, “if you don’t get this stupid thing off me—”
“Ah, ah, ah,” he coos, “that’s not the signal.”
Right. She’s supposed to smack the bed three times. She decides to smack his chest instead, three heavy thumps against his breastbone. “Get. It. Off.”
Immediately, the toy stops buzzing. Edelgard breathes a sigh of relief as he kneads the muscles of her still shaking legs and slowly, gently pulls himself free of her. The harness is the next to go, and he rubs the lines on her hips where the leather dug into her skin. Vaguely, she’s aware that she was the one doing all this last time—getting him situated comfortably on the bed, wiping him down with a wet cloth, letting him rest his head against her chest. It’s nice to be on the other side of the aftercare, she thinks. She sighs at the feeling of his fingers running through her hair. A kiss is pressed against her forehead.
“El?”
She mumbles something unintelligent and looks up at him. He’s smiling at her—quite pleased with himself, isn’t he? She supposes he deserves to be. He did well. Him and that…
She pushes herself up clumsily on one elbow. The toy is sitting on his bedside table, wiped clean and left to dry. She reaches over him for it.
“Whoa, hey…”
“How did you make it do that?” she asks groggily, squinting at the toy in her hand as if her bleary-eyed scrutiny would force it to reveal its secrets. There are no switches or buttons to be seen. Khalid was notoriously poor at magic—even if it were a small spell that powered it, she hopes he wouldn’t be foolish enough to attempt casting anything so close to either of their genitals.
Wordlessly, he places his hand around hers and presses her thumb and forefinger into a certain spot at the base of the toy. The pliant material gives, just slightly, and something inside it clicks. The toy buzzes to life in their joined hands, and Khalid snorts like it’s funny.
“How?” Edelgard repeats.
Khalid shrugs. “The latest craze among the horny and bored masses. I’m told it was invented by some depraved genius of a sorcery student at the university last year.” He presses her fingers into the base again, and the toy turns off. “What’s your assessment? Positive? Seemed positive. I’m considering nominating the inventor for some sort of Royal Innovator of the Year Award.”
“I’m sure it would do wonders for your reputation to have your name attached to the proliferation of this thing for the remainder of history,” Edelgard says dryly. “Prince Khalid: primary sponsor of the vibrating artificial phallus.”
“Not the worst thing I’ve been called,” Khalid chuckles. “Terrible name for it, though, far too clinical. Something like this needs a name at least three euphemisms removed from what it actually is.”
Edelgard drops it back on the bedside table before collapsing back into him, one arm thrown around his waist. “Fine,” she mumbles into his chest, “what would you call it?”
Khalid thinks for a long moment, tracing shapes across her back with his fingers. Edelgard closes her eyes and sighs contentedly, counts the beats of his heart. The rhythm pushes her to the edge of sleep, the strain of their activities finally catching up to her.
“The Summit at Enbarr.”
Edelgard’s eyes shoot open. Khalid is looking down at her with one of his stupid, self-satisfied grins.
Shit.