Trevelyan loves the taste of cherries. And Cullen.
"Hold still, please."
A snort. "Are you finished soon?"
She grins. "If you hold still." Another snort followed by a chuckle. Trevelyan leans back to inspect her handiwork, correcting here and there.
As soon as she'd heard about the delivery she called off all meetings for the afternoon. Now they're on the bed, locked up and not to be disturbed.
She couldn't quite believe her own luck, nor his patience with her silly games, her impish enthusiasm. But she knows how much he likes to indulge her, fulfil her every wish- if he hasn't already before it passes her lips.
And how could she miss out on the opportunity of combining both her favourite flavours?
Another thorough glance has her almost squealing. Ripe, juicy cherries. A perfect ruby. And Cullen, of course. His sallow skin bared, decorated with the delightful fruits.
The kitchen master even had them pitted, ready to further adorn the artwork that is her commander's body.
He's on his front, head resting on his forearms. Facing her as she sits at his side, only in her underwear. Watching with patient eyes as she marvels at the trail of cherries on his back.
She cracks her fingers. Where to start?
With the expression of a child on Feast Day eve, Trevelyan leans forward, supporting herself on one hand as her mouth closes in just below Cullen's shoulder blades. The second her lips close around the first treat, her eyes fall closed. As she sits up bliss is written across her face. When the heavenly trickle of tart juice strokes her tongue, a hum pours from her lips, reminiscent of when they share intimacy and her senses are tickled another way. Cullen watches in affectionate curiosity, the rich caramel of his eyes glowing like a tempting delicacy of its own.
A quick swallow, and she wastes no time in picking up another mouthful from a little lower. Now she notices Cullen's skin radiating warmth under her lips, the scent of soap and leather blending with fruity sweetness. It tastes even better, leaving her greedy for more. Of both.
This time Cullen's head lifts up as she moves in. "Are you going to share at all?" Mock insult in his light baritone brings on a smile as she grasps another cherry. Rather than disappearing between her lips it sticks out as she leans towards him.
A crisp bite echoes between them. While he's chewing a crimson droplet escapes him, dribbling from the corner of his mouth. Trevelyan is there at once, the tip of her tongue darting out to catch it. Their eyes meet when she wets her lips, and they recognise the fire in each other's expression. A rush of warmth oozes through her core as she continues down the valley of his back, nipping, sharing, chewing.
When she reaches that alluring little dip just before muscle and bone become pert swells, she pauses.
He's become more reactive as she's advanced, flinches when her teeth graze tender skin, scraping across fine hairs.
As she spits out a stray seed, she admires those soft, shapely buns that flex into rock-hard rounds at his will.
Moving in towards his left buttock, she catches a particularly juicy cherry and ends up breaking its skin, spilling sticky nectar down the alabaster mound.
He can't see the lust clouding her eyes, how quick she is to pounce on him. But he feels her lips closing against his skin, groans at the suction, the swirl of her tongue. When she's done she all but flies over to his other cheek. Now her teeth dig right in. His surprised yelp lengthens into a moan when she laps at the mark with long, languid strokes.
Once the ache is soothed she's up facing him, a moist cherry between her lips. He's pulled her in before she can blink, and their mouths meet in a scorching kiss. When they break apart dark red shreds are stuck to their mouths, and both are out of breath.
A stare lingers between them, heavy with greed as the air in the room.
"Turn around", she croaks.
He holds her gaze for another moment then shifts onto his back, folding his arms behind his head.
Trevelyan's breath hitches when her eyes roam across the muscular sculpt that is Cullen's torso. While assessing where to plant her remaining decorations she makes a point of ignoring what's straining up from his crotch, all-too distracting.
She grabs a handful of cherries from the shallow basket on her nightstand. Under his quizzical eyes she breaks a pitted fruit in two, grinning as she places a half on each of his nipples, earning herself a quiet laugh.
Hovering over Cullen's chest, she licks, sucks, bites both tiny buds, encouraged by his little ahs, his squirms. As she chews she grows slicker, warmer.
The next cherry they eat together, tongues mingling with sweet pulp and syrupy nectar as arousal tugs at them with increasing vigour. She pulls away before he can drag her onto him, intent on finishing her work.
He sighs when butterfly kisses ghost across his ribcage, down his stomach, over his hipbones.
His navel lies flat and dark, mysterious and intriguing. Cullen watches as her fingertips squish a plump fruit. Thick beads of scarlet drip into the tender hollow, and he flinches then groans when she descends on it.
Trevelyan holds his gaze as her tongue dips in and she licks from him, purring in delight. Taut abdominals tremble under her touch, and she pokes her tongue harder, relishing his hushed moans.
When she sits up her face is flushed, rivalling the tasty fruits in colour. Moving further down, she sighs at the sight of what's greeting her.
As she draws closer to the thatch of curls, a darker shade of gold, the scent of skin and intimacy tickles her nostrils. She manages a moment's stillness, takes in his thick, appetising erection in all its turgid magnificence. But that's it for control.
She squeezes her fist above Cullen's groin and lets the juice of two, maybe three cherries drizzle down. Then she all but gulps him up, holding him steady at the base while she laps, humming as tartness and musk tingle her tastebuds.
The second her lips touch his shaft, Cullen's hands shoot out to grasp the sheet, the strength of his grip mimicking that of his strangled cry. As she sucks his cock like another delicious fruit, his hips begin rolling, then shaky fingers graze her shoulders. Eventually every bob of her head is accompanied by a breathless affirmation.
Trevelyan grips harder, squeezes her lips around him, eager to make him spill, rich and bitter-sweet. But he has other plans.
Gasping, she finds herself being flipped over and Cullen hovering above her, panting. She flinches at the sound her smalls make when he rips them apart, hurries to yank down her band. Cullen growls when her breasts spring free.
His eyes bore into hers, and she knows that look. He's going to fuck her senseless. Trevelyan bites her bottom lip, and her nub twitches.
For a moment Cullen leaves her waiting. Then he hoists her left leg over his shoulder, braces himself on her right and grips his length. Trevelyan moans, open-mouthed, wanton, as he rubs the broad head up and down her damp folds. Her stomach muscles, no, her entire body quivers under his burning scrutiny, with the certainty that any second now he'll-
"Oh!"
And he's inside her, up to the hilt in a single stroke. Clenching his jaw as he starts pounding into her, and all she can do is grasp the headboard.
The fresh aroma of crisp fruit mixes with sweat and lust, groans and hisses with creaking wood and the moist slurps of Cullen's thrusts.
Sneaking a glance down, her breath hitches at the view of the feverish in and out, the wide shaft disappearing and emerging from her, covered in her own glistening nectar.
When Cullen's eyes catch hers, she knows what that glare is asking.
Trevelyan's fingers find her sex, her mouth falling open as she kneads and tugs, never breaking his stare.
The wild bounce of her breasts, Cullen grazing her hidden spot, her own play at her pearl have her heaving, flushing, ready to let go.
Then they're there, holding each other, surrendering to climax as it rocks their bodies, leaving them floating, in rapture's tight grip.
As euphoric moments pass, strained expressions become giddy smiles. Delicate kisses and hushed endearments are shared.
Though they want to stay like this, unified in each other, they break apart. Their bodies are sticky and the sheets flecked with shades of red as they move their sluggish limbs as much as necessary.
As they lie catching their breath the lovers hold hands, looking up at nothing in lazy bliss.
Before long Trevelyan is munching a cherry, then another. Cullen takes a moment to notice the small grin, somewhere between smug and mischievous.
He raises a suspicious eyebrow, unable to stifle a chuckle of his own. "What is it?"
Trevelyan spits out another escaped seed then looks at him, beaming.
"I hear they've a box of strawberries coming tomorrow."