Summary: As Elizabeth tries to heal Meliodas after a day of hard training, she ends up making a discovery about them both.

A/N: This is a gift fic for my very dear friend Vetur02. She is an amazing artist you can find at tumblr dot com, and has some of the most beautiful stuff I've ever seen. Recently she created some artwork about some of my other stories, and I thought it was only fair if I wrote a story just for her. So please make sure you check out her amazing blog after reading this! I'm so honored to have an awesome friend who is such a talent, not only in art, but at reading my works-in-progress, making waffles, and sharing her rather varied interests.

This fic is rated M for explicit material.


Elizabeth laid in the bed she shared with Sir Meliodas in the Boar Hat, staring at the ceiling. It was morning, very early, judging by the pale light that was streaming through the curtains. Her hands were clasped over her stomach, the light blanket pulled up under her arms. She wore a light sleeping gown that left her arms bare now that the evenings were no longer cold. Spring had arrived in Liones.

Next to her laid the Captain of the Seven Deadly Sins, sound asleep. He had been exhausted, she was sure, after the day he had yesterday. The Boar Hat had been moved deep into the wild mountains of Britannia in order for the Sins to have some practice. The captain had said they were getting soft, and maybe that was true: they hadn't done much of anything other than drink and celebrate and occasionally open the tavern for business. The king had agreed to bankroll the Sins again for one year as protectors of Liones now that so many Holy Knights had fallen, and Meliodas had pledged to have the band in tip top shape before their contract would begin.

For the past two weeks, they had practiced maneuvers through the forest, had completed physical trials along the mountain range. Elizabeth did not participate, of course, but she could easily see the knight that lived inside Sir Meliodas flourishing. He was once more a commander and a soldier, something she suspected harkened back thousands of years, to the First Great War. Not that Elizabeth knew a terrible amount about that and those days, but it was easy to imagine as his face became set and his eyes burned with an unfamiliar fire.

The Sins would return from whatever challenges Meliodas had dreamt up at the end of the day tired, sore, and covered in bruises. But they were in good spirits, and consumed plenty of good spirits, going for hours as they ate and drank and told stories of the old days. Elizabeth loved to sit and just listen, her eyes trained on Sir Meliodas, his smiles and his laugh and the way his hair clung around his face. There were so many inside jokes among them, memories and wild tales that had her spinning. And as the evening wore on, the alcohol did its job, and the Sins would drop off one by one to sleep off their intoxication and their injuries.

As Elizabeth helped with the clean-up, she would gently push her healing powers out through the tavern, making sure that they would be ready for the next day. When she finally settled into bed, Sir Meliodas would be in a playful mood, plenty of teasing and sneaky hands to leave her laughing until they fell asleep.

But last night had been different. It had been a particularly brutal day of training, and King had to be carried back by Diane. The mood at dinner had been quieter as the others nursed their tender wounds and sore muscles. It seemed as though they were on the edge of a breakthrough with their powers, and the captain had pushed them nearly to their limit. Elizabeth was amazed to discover there could even be more power for them to gain; but Merlin had explained to her that the power in Britannia was as infinite as the stars.

There were no playful pinches or silly jokes that night; instead, Meliodas had gone straight to bed after a quick bath, fast asleep under the covers by the time she herself was finished washing up for the night. The princess had smiled and left a small kiss on the top of his head before climbing into the bed, listening contentedly to his breathing as she fell asleep.

Strange dreams had plagued her, and Elizabeth had woken up with a start. Instinctively she had turned towards the captain for the comfort of his warm presence next to her, and had made a startling discovery.

Now Elizabeth drummed her fingers, trying to figure out what to do. If she moved, he might wake up, and with the injuries still visible on his skin, she knew he needed his sleep. She could go downstairs, but it was much too early, and she was afraid of waking the others. What the girl really wanted to do was scoop him up and complete his healing; but again, there was the very real risk that Sir Meliodas would wake up.

She sighed softly. Her eyes slid to the side, and she could see the dragon tattoo on his arm, which was curled underneath his pillow. Sir Meliodas laid on his stomach, his face halfway pressed into the soft material. She could see the steady rise and fall of his back under the sheet, which had slipped down to his waist. His sinewy back was clean, but sporting several yellowing bruises.

Elizabeth lifted her head from the pillow slightly, allowing her eyes to trace down his spine, then back up to his shoulder blades. Slowly she tilted towards him, her eyes just inches from the red tattoo. She had seen it so many times; had she ever examined it so closely?

Elizabeth inched closer. It was a beautiful design, and seemed to encapsulate everything about him: mysterious, powerful, strong. She had the sudden urge to run her fingertips over it, or to press her lips against it in a soft kiss.

Instantly her cheeks flared in embarrassment. How could she ever think of such a thing! Quickly she pressed back against the pillows again, squeezing her eyes shut. But the image of that tattoo burned behind her vision, along with the sculpted muscle of his arm, leading to the powerful shoulders. Her curiosity about the mark extended to the rest of him, and without even realizing it, she had turned her head to gaze at the form of the man beside her.

Sir Meliodas was still such a mystery after all of these months, and it was personified in the sudden need that flared to see more of him. After a few deep breaths, Elizabeth silently and slowly turned back towards him.

Leaning down, she dusted her fingertips over the tattoo, not touching him. Her heart skipped a beat at the sensation, as if the dragon would come to life any moment and nip at her fingers. Slowly they traced along the outline of his muscle and towards his shoulder as Elizabeth dragged her eyes finally away from the symbol that captivated her. Carefully, she leaned forward until her face was just inches away, her breath ruffling the edges of his messy hair that lay across his face. Her eyes slid over the blonde locks, now twisted and especially wild from going to bed wet and drying in his sleep; Elizabeth smiled to herself at how he would look when he woke up. She had been cautiously suggesting a trim for a week or more, which Sir Meliodas had brushed off with a laugh.

Biting her lip, Elizabeth raised a tentative hand, brushing her fingertips through the ends. Her eyes remained trained on his face for any sign that he was waking, but he never moved.

Sitting up on an elbow, the princess slid the fingertips over his shoulder and down to the blade. She was amazed by how soft the skin was, but how hard the muscle was underneath. Elizabeth longed to press her hands against him, to dig her fingers into the muscle and run her hands over the rises and dips under his skin. She pressed her lips together tightly as she imagined following her hands with her lips, wondering if his skin would taste salty or sweet, what his reaction would be with such a bold move. The princess chastised herself in her head for having such a thought; this was Sir Meliodas! She didn't even know if he returned her feelings. But she had to admit the idea was enticing.

Down, down, her hand traced, brushing along his spine. Then, she stopped at the sheet that covered the rest of him, her fingers hovering over the hem of the fabric.

With a deep breath, Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut and cautiously pulled back the fabric. Her face positively burned, but her curiosity burned even moreso. When the sheet was moved away, she nervously peeked out of one eye to find her suspicions had been correct: Meliodas was not wearing anything at all.

A nervous laugh escaped the princess as she took in the toned muscle and rounded shape of his rear. The captain's waist continued in a straight line towards his hips, and one leg was bent at the knee, pushing his haunches upwards slightly from the dip at the bottom of his spine. She chewed on her lip as she slowly opened her other eye, both now darting between his sleeping face and the sight of his backside.

Something stirred inside Elizabeth. She loved the captain, and had sometimes thought about him in this way, of being with him and seeing him and touching him…

Elizabeth dropped the sheet, giggling nervously to herself. She had her peek, and now she was pressing her luck. The princess turned away, pressing a hand on her mouth, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

"Did you have enough of a look?" said a sleepy voice behind her, and Elizabeth jolted right off of the mattress. A strong hand reached out and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her back before she could fall off the bed. Elizabeth yelped as she flipped back on the mattress, Sir Meliodas in the same position as before; but now one eye was peeking at her through the blonde bangs, the hand previously under his pillow now curled firmly around her forearm.

"W-what?" she squeaked. "I-oh-I didn't-oh!"

His fingers traced along the skin of her arm, and she jumped at the sensation. "What were you doing anyway?" he teased.

"I… I was just… checking your injuries," she whispered, sure he would never believe her.

"Hmmm." There was a pause, and then Meliodas grabbed her hand, pulling it forward and placing it on his shoulder. "I could use your help, actually."

Elizabeth's eyes flew over to the captain. "You-you can?"

"Uh huh. It's taking forever for me to heal. I don't know what was up with Chastiefol yesterday, but these cuts are deep." As if to prove it, he tenderly stretched his shoulder, and Elizabeth watched him wince. "Do you think you could help?"

"Of course!" the princess exclaimed, glad to have the conversation shift away from her indiscretion. Quickly she climbed up to her knees, kneeling next to him on the bed. But then she hesitated, clasping her hands together, and said, "Where does it hurt?"

"My shoulder," he answered. Elizabeth nodded and placed her palms on his warm skin. Her powers pressed forward, rolling off of her in waves, and Meliodas gave a deep sigh and pressed his face into the pillow. He mumbled something unintelligible, but the groan of contentment told her that it was helping. After a few moments, he tilted his mouth and said, "A little lower, if you don't mind?"

Nodding, Elizabeth slid her hands down the rounded shoulder, pressing the heels of her hands against the rippled shoulder blade. Sir Meliodas gave another sound of satisfaction, and encouraged, Elizabeth slowly massaged him, watching with growing fascination as his skin healed under her palm. His back rose and fell with a deep sigh, and eagerly she placed one hand on his other shoulder, mimicking the movements on both sides.

"Is that good?" she asked, and stifled a giggle when he simply grunted. For several minutes, she quietly rubbed his shoulders, enjoying the feel of his skin and the way his muscles rolled under her hands, nearly as much as he seemed to be enjoying her ministrations himself.

Hesitating for a moment, Elizabeth screwed up her courage and slid her hands down his shoulder blades, onto his back. With long, slow strokes, she moved her hands up and down the length of his back, smiling to herself as he shifted a bit to stretch. Meliodas turned his head and peeked up at her over his shoulder. "Have you done this before?" he teased.

"No!" she exclaimed, a little too high pitched, and felt herself blush again. But his lidded gaze and his tired smile thrilled her, and Elizabeth decided to keep going. Testing the pressure, she continued the massage, sometimes pushing hard, sometimes sliding over him tenderly. Elizabeth was fascinated with the path of his spine, often pausing to trace her fingertips along the dip; eventually the massage moved upwards to include the back of his neck. When her hands weaved in his hair to rub his scalp, the captain gave a noise that sent a shiver of pleasure through her and caused heat to pool low in her body.

Meliodas started to move, but then he made a small grunt of pain. "What is it?" she asked softly.

"There is something on the back of my neck," he muttered. "I don't know if it's a cut or-"

"Let me see." Cautiously she brushed the ends of his hair away-Sir Meliodas really needed to have this trimmed-and saw that he was right. There was an abrasion of some kind right below his hairline, as if he had landed there, or slid across the rocky ground. Elizabeth winced to herself at the sight, and before she could think about it, she bent down and kissed the reddening spot.

Quickly she pulled back, shocked by her own actions. Sir Meliodas seemed frozen beneath her, but then she saw something even more astonishing: the abrasion was disappearing, melting into his skin with her kiss. "What did you just do?" he asked, his voice a bit muffled. "That felt amazing."

"I…" Her voice trailed off, not knowing what to say.

"Well do it again," he laughed.

Nodding, Elizabeth huffed nervously and leaned down again. Gently she trailed her lips down the back of his neck, her hands braced against the backs of his arms. Meliodas sighed deeply. Her fingers gripped him as she continued moving her mouth across the tops of his shoulders, the yellow and red marks disappearing before her eyes. There was one particularly nasty bruise just above his left shoulder blade, and Elizabeth pressed a kiss firmly against it, her tongue slipping out to give it a brief lick with the tip of her tongue. In the corner of her eye she saw Meliodas clench his fist into the pillow, and she pressed another kiss on the rapidly dissolving spot in satisfaction.

Down his spine she trailed, kissing his skin and tasting the dips as she had fantasized just minutes before. The captain's skin was warm, and she caught the delicate scent of the soap from his bath, and beneath that, the faint smell of alcohol and perspiration, all of it combining into something that was familiar and thrilling. Her mouth continued the length of his body, her hands following along his sides, until finally she reached the hem of the blanket.

The breath caught in her throat. Should she keep going? Meliodas shifted beneath her, bringing his legs together under the blanket, but did not speak. Elizabeth knew he was giving her silent permission, and she remembered his words: I don't mind if you look… Only if I get to look too…

Did she dare?

With another blush to her cheeks, Elizabeth slowly pulled the blanket down. "Do you… have any other injuries?" Her voice intoned upwards until it was practically a squeak. "Anywhere else that hurts?"

"Just keep going," he murmured, his voice edged with a bit of seriousness. Elizabeth's eyes trailed slowly down his bare skin, and then her fingers traced along the sides of his hips. Her movements were halting and unsure, but Meliodas did not move. She focused on the feel of his body under her hands, rubbing up and down his hips several times, still too shy to go any further. Absentmindedly she brushed her fingertips over his hips, and Meliodas tensed; curiously, Elizabeth repeated the movement. She was surprised to see the muscles in his thighs and backside strain and relax, and when she did it again, Meliodas finally released a little laugh.

He's ticklish! Elizabeth bit her lip and giggled, pressing her thumbs in to massage his lower back, laughing to herself. With the tension of the moment dissolved a bit, she took the opportunity to apply a bit of light pressure on his tailbone. Instinctively he raised his hips a bit to match the feel of her fingers, and as his body relaxed back into the mattress, Elizabeth lightly scraped her nails down over both cheeks of his backside.

An alluring noise escaped him, a cross between pleasure and contentment, so with a grin the princess repeated the movement again and again. Up and down the rounded shape of his body Elizabeth slid her nails, each pass applying more and more pressure until she was massaging the muscle deeply. She could feel him relaxing as she smiled, mesmerized by the way he shifted ever so slightly under her hands, enchanted by the soft sighs coming from the captain. Such a simple action, one that Elizabeth had never dreamed of daring… but now, here in this moment, she wanted more.

Emboldened, Elizabeth moved, pulling the blanket completely away and straddling his legs. Her hands splayed out wide over his lower back, and Meliodas jumped, looking over his shoulder. "Elizabeth?" he laughed, but she ignored him, leaning down to press her mouth against the center of his back. She dug her fingers into his sides as she slid her mouth down, down, pausing to leave a kiss on his tailbone, sweeping over to the side to plant another on his hip.

"Elizabeth?" he asked again, the strain in his voice clear. But still she did not answer, excitedly kissing along the outline of his body, sliding down his legs to run her lips along the top of his thigh. The tone of his voice made her daring, the twitching of his body under her mouth and hands allowed her to be shameless as she tasted his skin. Elizabeth moved excitedly over him, planting a kiss here and there on his body: on his hip, then on his leg, then the center of each cheek, then the skin below his tailbone. Meliodas was trying not to squirm now, and Elizabeth chuckled, finally moving to give a soft bite in the ticklish spot she had discovered.

A low groan escaped the captain, and Elizabeth glanced up his body. She could see his face now buried into the pillow, the muscles in his back and shoulders tense. Easing her body up along his, she noted the way he shivered as her gown caressed his skin, kissing her way back up his spine. "Does that feel better?" she whispered, and was thankful that her voice did not break as she spoke.

"Yes, I-Elizabeth, what-" His words cut off as she kissed the spot between his shoulder blades, her mouth opening to let her tongue swirl in a small circle. At the same time, her hands moved underneath her and slid back down his rear, stroking him again and again, until her hands nudged his thighs apart so she could slip between them.

He jolted as her hand delicately closed around the flesh hanging in between, practically kneeling up on the bed as his hips arched upwards. But her own hips kept him in place, and she nipped his skin lightly, then kissing the red mark she made to heal it.

Elizabeth was getting lost in the sensations of stroking him, tasting him, feeling him hard beneath her. He was always the strong one, and for the first time she was in control, she had made him come unraveled just as he often did throughout the day with a grope or a teasing caress or even just one of his beautiful smiles. She panted hotly against his back as she pressed her hand down until she found his length hard and pressing into the mattress and wrapped her hand around him.

All at once she found herself flipped on her back, her hands pinned to the sides, Meliodas now looking down at her. "What are you doing?" he asked, half-laughing, his voice a husky tone she had never heard before. Elizabeth was suddenly embarrassed, as if she had been caught doing something wrong, and as her eyes traveled down his very naked and aroused body, her own breathing increased.

"I-I was trying to heal you," she replied, and Meliodas laughed. "Heal me, hm?" Then he dipped his face down, trailing his nose along the side of her face, down her neck, his lips tracing the collar of her gown. "I think you were more than just healing me."

"No, I-" Elizabeth gasped as Meliodas shifted his hips. He slid his body between her legs, and without hesitation she opened her thighs to give him room. Suddenly she felt him hard and prodding against her, and she shuddered as his body rocked against her, the fabric of the gown the only barrier between their bodies.

"I told you I didn't mind," he grinned, and she blinked in embarrassment. "But now that you've gotten a look, it's only fair I get one too."

Elizabeth met his gaze as she tugged her hands away from his grip. Meliodas let her go immediately, and she brought her palms to rest on his chest. "You're not healed yet," she whispered to him.

Meliodas looked down to where her fingers traced along a healing cut below his collarbone. "I suppose not," he answered, once again peering at her through the long blonde bangs, something the princess thought she would never get tired of seeing. He braced himself on his hands, moving up and off of her a bit; but Elizabeth followed, pressing her mouth against the laceration. She could not help her smile as he shivered, and she left a trail of little kisses along the cut, the skin sewing itself together in its wake.

She looked up at him, and his green eyes were focused on her. His expression was unreadable, guarded, but his eyes showed curiosity with a hint of amusement; he was looking at her as if seeing her differently, or for the first time. Elizabeth shifted her hips, pressing up against the hardness between her thighs, and watched as Meliodas' jaw twitched. "I just want to make you feel better," she whispered.

Meliodas looked down at her in surprise. He had no idea when Elizabeth had gotten so bold, or why she had chosen now to be so forward. Not that he was complaining; now that things had been settling down, relatively anyway, he had been wanting to make a move. He just hadn't figured out what just yet. The last time he had been in love was with Liz, but he suspected the princess would need more finesse than the Holy Knight had. A lot more. And yet here she was, sneaking a look at him as he slept, sliding her hands daringly down his body.

There was so much he wanted to do, but for now, Meliodas decided to allow Elizabeth to satisfy her curious lust. So he remained still as her hands pressed on his stomach, fighting the urge to twitch as her fingers traced each of the abdominal muscles there. He smirked a bit, the corner of his mouth tilting up slightly to see Elizabeth gazing down his body with heavily lidded eyes, and decided to push his hips forward again, pressing against the heat he was longing to sink into.

To his satisfaction, she gasped; but then her hands slid down his hips and gripped him tightly. Her nails dug into his skin and she pulled him forward, and Meliodas obliged her by slowly rocking back and forth, sliding his hardening body against her. The feel of the fabric of her gown was tantalizing on his skin that his mouth dropped open, panting at the way it scraped against him. It was slow, and teasing, just how he liked it, and Elizabeth was beyond seductive as she arched slightly, opening her legs even more to allow him to get closer.

He was about to dip his head down to kiss her when Elizabeth whispered, "Is this helping?" Meliodas almost laughed at the innocent question. "I'm feeling much better," he smiled. "Is there something you need me to do?"

Meliodas expected her to want him to move again, or to touch her or kiss her, but again the princess surprised him by saying, "Can I touch you again?"

His eyebrow arched and he nodded. His breath caught as her hands moved over his lower stomach, a little crackle of electricity dancing across his skin with her healing powers. The soreness in his muscles were long gone, so now Elizabeth's magic felt like little sparks, stirring his blood and filling him with energy. Then her fingers pressed into his hips, and he jolted as she scratched him there, huffing out a laugh. "That tickles, you know," he chuckled.

"I know," she said slyly, doing it again. With a growl he surged forward against her body again, drawing out a gasping laugh from the girl; then he pressed his face against the side of her neck, breathing in deeply, not wanting her to see how much she was affecting him.

Gently he eased his body down, bearing his weight on his elbows at her sides, his hips pressed against the back of her thighs. It was everything within him not to move, not to tug up her gown and taste and touch her all over. But Meliodas was patient, and knew there would be plenty of time for all of that later. Now he would give her this time to do her own exploration, because once he started his, he might never stop.

He shivered slightly as her nails moved back towards his stomach, sweeping in small strokes along his pelvis. Meliodas thought back over the long years of his life, trying to remember if anyone had ever touched him so carefully, so lovingly. His limbs were going weak as they relaxed, and he sighed against her neck, even as the places she touched seemed to dance with excitement. It was an intoxicating mixture of pleasure and satisfaction, her touch calming and arousing.

Her arms wrapped around him, her hands pressing on his back, massaging the muscle there; then down, down, they traveled, until she was rubbing over his cheeks. Meliodas chuckled again, lifting his head slightly so he could look at her face, and Elizabeth looked back as she chewed on her lip. "You really like that, don't you?" he teased.

Elizabeth flushed the perfect shade of pink, the one he liked the best, and nodded. He laughed and kissed her cheek, then settled his head back next to hers, tilting his hips up to allow her to feel all of him. And she certainly was; her hands roamed freely, shamelessly over his backside, exploring every inch, squeezing and gripping the muscle beneath. Her fingers scraped down the curve, the sensation drawing a groan from the back of his throat, then they danced along the crease where the cheeks met his thighs.

As the massage went on, Meliodas began to be aware of several things. First, his own body was growing almost painfully hard, to the point where he knew the tight grip he had on his control was going to eventually unravel. As Elizabeth continued to caress him, he wondered if she wanted anything more than this. Every scrape of her fingers or squeeze of her hands was making his mind spin.

He also could tell that Elizabeth was growing more and more affected too. He could feel the subtle way she would shift beneath him, the catch in her breath when she dug her fingers into his hips. Her skin was growing warmer and warmer as the blush spread across her skin, and from his position between her legs he could feel the fabric of gown dampening as she grew wetter and wetter.

When he thought he couldn't take another moment, he pressed his lips on her throat. Her hands stilled on his backside, and he whispered, "Elizabeth, can I touch you too?"

Silently, she nodded. He kissed her throat again, feather-light, barely grazing her skin as his mouth moved across the line of her neck. Meliodas slipped his hands down her sides, tracing the cinch of her waist and the flare of her hips; then he gripped the gown and slowly, carefully eased the fabric up to her stomach. It slid across his own body, making him shudder with pleasure.

Then his hand moved downwards, cupping her between her legs, and Elizabeth gave a little moan and tilted her body upwards. Her hands on him tightened, reflexively pulling him closer, and Meliodas grunted as the head of him brushed against the fabric covering her body. His own fingers glided up and down, teasing her, and eventually her hands started to slide too, copying his movements. With a shaking breath he kissed the corner of her mouth. "Elizabeth… can I…"

"Yes," she whispered back. Meliodas did not bother to remove the fabric, simply pulling the cloth to the side, and tilted forward until the head of him grazed her. He carefully rocked up and down, spreading the slickness over himself and covering her opening. Elizabeth was panting as he moved, and he teased them both as he edged the tip of him inside of her, just between the folds. Her hands were gripping him tightly, and for a long moment they lay frozen, locked around one another, the moment suspended in a thick atmosphere of raw expectation. Then she pulled him forward, at the same time pressing her hands into his flesh, drawing his cheeks apart. He gasped at the sensation and slid inside of her, filling her slowly.

Elizabeth whimpered, and he kissed her cheek. Meliodas stopped once he was completely sheathed inside of her, waiting for her to adjust to his length, swallowing thickly at the feeling of her surrounding him. After all this time of imagining what this moment would be like, this was not it: Elizabeth still dressed, her hands touching him this way, following her quiet lead. But now that it was finally happening, he fought against being overwhelmed by the moment, as it was more perfect and intense than he could have ever imagined.

Then, incredibly, her hands were moving again, sliding in wide circles from his back and over his hips, her fingers rubbing deeply into his skin, until he thought he would go mad, her wanton movements so different from the way he had always imagined the princess would touch him. Meliodas began to slowly roll his hips, grinding haltingly against her, unable to look away from the way her pink lips parted slightly with a gasp, or the way her eyelids would flutter when he slid back inside of her walls. One of her hands slid up his back, the palm pressing hard against his spine, until she reached his hair; then her fingers plunged through the locks, gripping them hard, her nails scraping into his scalp. The other hand remained on his backside, her fingers spreading across his body, and she pressed down as if to draw him deeper and closer.

He was rocking in and out of her steadily now, keeping himself buried as much as he could. Every muscle in his body was tensed as he carefully moved, keeping it slow, trembling as he bore his weight on one arm. His other hand still pressed between Elizabeth's legs, and he used two fingers to tease the top of her opening, gently stroking the bundle of nerves he knew would bring her to ecstasy.

Meliodas was drawing closer and closer to his finish, her core unbelievably tight and hot, nearly a stranglehold around him as he moved with short thrusts. Never once did he draw completely out, preferring to keep their thighs locked together as he delved deeply inside of her. Meliodas teased her body as he kissed her face, and when Elizabeth pulled his hair tightly, he grunted around the pain even as little bolts of pleasure shot directly to his groin. But it was when her fingers started to stroke him too, moving up and down along the crevice between his cheeks, that he truly began to lose himself.

His fingers dancing over the nub just inside her folds picked up speed, and Elizabeth twisted beautifully underneath him. She continued to stroke him as well, pressing her fingertips into his skin, sliding up and down his opening in identical movements. Meliodas gave a choking cry, the sensation positively thrilling, and suddenly he pulled his hips back and slammed into her with force. Her eyes flew open at the abrupt change in movement, her fingers digging hard into him. He paused for just a moment, taking in the sight of her, memorizing the feel of her body around him, and then pulled back again before plunging inside her again.

"Do that again," he said huskily against her cheek. Elizabeth obeyed, her fingers sliding between his cheeks again, caressing up and down as he drew back and pushed forward. He choked her name as he continued to jerk, the blood pulsing inside his head; then his body began to pulse, embedding his body inside of hers as he spasmed, spilling deep within her.

Her grip on him never loosened, and Meliodas panted through the rolling waves of pleasure. He winced for a moment as the pulsing began to fade, and then slowly he dragged his body from hers, drawing up to look down at where they joined as Elizabeth's hands fell away.

Her body was flushed, her thighs slick, and he could almost see her body pulsing with need. Quickly he slid down off the side of the bed, down to his knees on the floor, and pressed his mouth forward, kissing her body the way he had been dreaming of for ages. Meliodas licked her cleft before covering it with his mouth, his hands gripping the back of her thighs, forcing them apart. Elizabeth trembled, her muscles twitching in his hands, soft cries coming from her; then she was bowing up off of the bed, a final moan tearing from her as she began to shake underneath him.

Her hand was in his hair moments later, pulling him away with a gasp. Meliodas grinned as he pressed a kiss against her thigh, and then he slid back up her body, looking down in satisfaction at the disheveled girl. Tenderly he kissed her shoulder and she turned her face to him.

"Are you all right?" he whispered, and she nodded. He swallowed before brushing his lips over hers, not entirely sure what to do next, and definitely not sure how to feel about that. A moment later Elizabeth's arms were around him again, snaking down his back. Then she scraped him in that spot on his hips again, and Meliodas laughed, reaching underneath her to give her a pinch of his own.