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Byleth was a breathtaking woman. Unlike anyone he had ever seen. Comparable to the goddess herself, he had considered it a sin to stare at her openly during his time as a student. The only moments he had allowed himself to fall into depravity, to follow that call of his sin, haunted by his ghosts and managing to turn them off in the rarest of periods, were during the night. With his hand loosely around his cock, following the image of his gorgeous professor sitting on him, her warmth quickly chasing him to an end.
Five years later and Dimitri found himself out of breath. Despite the wine in his body, he knew his light head didn't stem from that. The heat in his neck was radiating to his other limbs and that wasn't because he still wore his wedding suit.
The sole reason why he sat on the edge of their bed – their bed – with a hitch in his breath and his good eye widened, his heart threatening to jump right out of his chest and with sweat spreading on his skin was Byleth. For she was the reason he managed to rise, she would be his downfall all the same.
The ring on her finger sparkled in the little flecks of moonlight that passed through the window. Her green hair, originally bound to an up-do with two strands framing her face, fell down her back in an elegance he could only envy. The white dress she wore hugged her body so perfectly he wished to weep. And the gentleness in her eyes betrayed an emotion inside of her that he had deemed impossible at the beginning.
It was their wedding night. The day had passed in a blur of happiness, joy and dancing. The sheer amount of pride he had felt when she stood right next to him, her head momentarily placed on his shoulder to gain some rest from the festivities, had made him drunker than the wine he had been served. His friends' laugh, his companion's wishes of congratulation and the light inside his bride's eyes let him look forward to the future. Perhaps, truly, for the first time in years.
“Dimitri.”
He lifted his gaze. Jade eyes greeted him in a warmth, beckoning him to reach out to her. Desire and heat lay in her gaze, a fire he wouldn't complain to burn in.
She reached out her hand and like a siren calling for her sailor, Dimitri took hers. She was so small, so delicate and with a tug from him, reminding himself of his strength, she stood right between his legs. His head told him to wait for her signal, to anticipate her sign. What was he allowed to do? Were there things she didn't want? A line she did not want to cross?
A finger under his chin pulled him out of his line of thoughts. Her smile continued. “Can you help me undress?”
His throat felt dry, too dry. He solely nodded. “Of course.”
And with united efforts, he freed her from her dress to reveal him her figure. The last proof he needed to know and never forget that she was simply breathtaking. A woman gifted by the goddess with beauty. A divine creature standing in front of him.
Instead of cowering in fear and submission, he hungrily takes in every inch of her revealed skin. Every square of body open for his eyes to see. For him and only him. Together, they fiddle with the threads on the back of her dress. He spots the elegant slope of her shoulders, her strong arms, her small hands. The lacy underwear she wore, first her bra covering her luscious breasts. Her wedding dress fell into a small puddle around her feet. The flat curve of her stomach, the narrow waist that made him lose his mind. The matching underwear that called for him. The garters that connected to beautiful stockings, white and hugging the plump flesh of her thighs as if they were made for her.
His wishes? To take it off. To rip her bra from her breasts, to bury his face between them, to lick and bite her nipples until they were raw and red. He wanted to hear her moan softly, not loud enough, slowly building up her desire to want him. To scream for him.
With another gentle request for his hand, which he followed eagerly and without hesitation, she stepped out of the puddle of her dress, kicked it to the side and opened her bra with quick precision. His breath halted, his heart stopped beating and when the support faded, they bounced with a sinfulness that would make even the greatest saint lose his mind.
His throat was dry. “Beloved-”
“Hush.” Cupping his cheeks, she caressed his cheeks with her thumbs. A tilt of her head, her hair falling over her shoulders and reaching the top of her breasts. It made him even desire her more. “I want you to see me. All of me. Without any barrier.”
“I-” He halted. And spoke the words that had crossed his mind from the moment he realized he loved her. “You're breathtaking. So much more beautiful than I had ever imagined.”
“You imagined me naked?”
A step in his breath, a light cough and a smile that betrayed a hint of playfulness made him look up to her with tears in the corners of his eyes. “Byleth-”
“Don't worry.” She kissed him, a peck on his lips and the twitch of his fingers betrayed his eagerness.
“May I...?”
A prob in the dark. And the light answered him with a smile of hers. “Of course.”
He let his hands roam. Down her rib cage, his fingers grazing the side of her breasts only partially, little sounds escaping her. He found the hem of her panties, his fingers touching the top of her garters and tugging them down with reverence. They glided down her smooth skin until they fell too.
She was shaved. Oh goddess, she was completely shaved. Not one hair visible, smooth skin that already showed him a sign of her desire.
He told her before and realized it anew. She was so much more than he could have ever imagined. The fantasies that had brought his hands into his pants during lonely nights were so much more.
Dimitri wished to kiss her. To trails his tongue and teeth down her neck, to mark her where everyone could see. To remind every man and woman who she belonged to. He wanted to linger at her pulse, to bury his nose into her neck and hear it beat. She lived, she was alive, she was his wife and he was the happiest man on his earth.
His hands started to wander once more. Listening to every sound of her. She mumbled, sighed.
He wanted to draw circles onto her skin. He wanted to make her moan. To hear her scream. He imagined her lying on the mattress, him tending to her on his knees, tasting that slick of hers. Sucking and playing with her clit, letting it dance under his fingers until she clamped her beautiful thighs around his face. Riding his face until the only thing she could think off was him. Him and only him. Just laying there. His wife and only his.
He wanted to dive into her – to be engulged into her heat, to feel that pull that would force him to lose himself. He wanted to obey her. To heed her wishes. To become hers, in soul and flesh.
“Dimitri...”
A breathless sigh that made him stop. He looked up, through his lashes, trying to gain a hold of the thing she wanted to say. Her lashes were fluttering, a game of his mind he wanted to never forget. The only thing that could break this spell was her voice.
And she did just that.
“I’m yours.”
He pulled her to closer. Being on eye-level with her crotch, her clit already swollen and peeking out of her folds, he felt her shiver when his breath met her skin.
“I am yours.”