The world has narrowed down to this.
Skin against skin. Your hands on his back, his breath in your ear, short sharp gasps that match your own. Your hands grasp, nails digging in, leaving red crescents, but you don't care and neither does he. He is above you, and around you, and in you, and it still isn't enough. You pull him in closer, desperate to feel every inch of him.
This is how it should always be.
The two of you, away from prying eyes, away from judgment. There are no constrictions here, no expectations or responsibilities. Just the two of you, hidden away.
Your movements grow more frantic as you feel yourself plunge into the dizzying spiral, yet you keep your eyes open, desperate to watch his face as he comes. You want to watch as he gives way to complete pleasure, his face tight as he cries out suddenly. Only then do you allow yourself to let go, following over the edge almost instantly.
Afterwards, you both lie there, silent for once. Too much has passed between you for it to be awkward, and you are content to dream. Firelight flickers, shadows playing over his face, casting his cheekbones into even sharper angles. Your breath catches as he smiles at you, lazily, affectionately. You think that maybe, when you are King, you might keep him here like this, in your bed. You don't realise you've spoken out loud until he laughs, a small huff that passes between you.
You look over him carefully, searching his eyes for darkness, triumphant when you find none. He gives you a small smile, knowing what you're doing, just as he always does. Wriggling closer, he forces his way into your arms, with you reluctantly-yet-not making way for him. You allow him to drift off to sleep like this, his hair tickling your cheek, leg thrown between yours. A rush of love hits you as you look down at him, eyelashes a dusky shadow on his cheek. You tighten your arms subconsciously, fearing the loss of him. You promise yourself it won't happen.