A/N Don't judge me. Please review. First time writing something such as this. It was my inspiration, in a way, that in Killian's home, they had an interesting post-wedding ceremony that went something like this, something almost more intimate than intercourse. I hope I did the idea justice. Love and cookies.
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The satin sheet before him spoke in soft whispers, but he ignored them as he stared it over, observing the canvas he was now tasked to paint. The young woman lay, bare, on the covered table, her back sprawling and gleaming with gold and pale swirls, prepared to take on the unimaginable.
He began the task with light brush strokes, and he felt her start to shake as the magic took effect.
Patterns started to take shape on her skin; dragons and fires flaming between her elegant shoulder blades, trickling stars falling down her spine and curving around her hips. He forced himself to focus on the work at hand, refusing to steal a glance at the parts of her he so wished to see.
She sighed as the brush tickled her neck, tracing a beautiful 'N' into the curves where her skull met her spine. With gentle hands he traced down her sides, making a human compass out of the woman, painting her black and gold and white as if in a trance.
The pulsing he felt fill him drove him to cover her with more and more delights; fairies and flowers and a beautiful ship rising up and out of sea foam to fly in the starry night. Without a word she shifted with him, and he adorned her hips with sea birds and guardians intent on keeping evil at bay. Her bare side became the home for a thousand birds of prey.
She shivered as he drew a sun in the curves of her breast, and his breathing hitched, but he continued. The tremors that fought to control his good hand were barely controlled.
Up he went, tracing her collar lovingly and transforming it from skin to sheet, lodging a ship's wheel at the base of her throat. She was revealed to him in full, and he continued in a trance, unable to look away.
Unable to stop himself.
Her skin called out to him and he granted it's every desire, covering it with the paints and soft touches that made her whimper with desire. Her eyelids fluttered as she stared up into his determined face, but he would not meet her eyes, so afraid that too long a look would drown him forever.
Her arms bore his marks, an armory of weapons and signs from various parts of the worlds he had seen. Around her wrist were the names of her parents and son, his name borne into her knuckles. She lifted her hand to kiss the ink, and with the reflection of his name on her lips, he struggled to concentrate.
Each finger bore a ring except one, on which a real gem gleamed up at him.
From her hands came her hips, her sides, the moon cupping the other breast to gleam up at him like the sun. Two stars rested on her heart, a coy gesture to the home he had once had. The flower from her wrist he transferred to the curve of her remaining bare side, settling it deep into her back and tracing it's vines down her long legs with a kiss.
Swans flew across her legs, and soon he went from pictures to words.
Love and music notes adorned her lower body, passing by her knees and ending twined around her calves.
He was shaking as he knelt, staring at her like a goddess. Her eyes twinkled back at him, daring him to finish the task he had been so determined to begin.
Very simple words trailed down her remain skin, the magic smiling back at him with reassurances of hope. He wrote hope into her skin, love into her being, trust and affection and protection into the elastic flesh around her ankles.
Finally, full to the brim with desire, he caressed her feet and wrote his final words, ones she felt rock through her entire being.
I love you. They said. I am yours, and you are mine.
And then he was at her lips, brushes forgotten, and she held him closer than any man had ever been, held him in the deepest cells of her heart and sighed as she felt the ink seep into her blood.
The tattoos would fade as they joined together, she knew, but she had felt the love in each stroke and seen the care he had put in to each creation.
He gazed over the sun, stars, and moon, caressing the swans and drawing out sounds from her he hadn't known she could make. He kissed the ship's wheel and was at her lips, feeling his name whispering to him from the soft red skin. She ached against him, naked but covered with everything that was him, and he ached against her, shaking off the nonsensical clothing to join her.
Her hair lay in tangled beneath his fingers, and he felt her swift hands make work at his belt, gently working at his left arm to remove the hook that could damage them both. She kissed it gently and sucked coyly on the end, and he growled and buried himself into her neck, desperate to feel her screaming beneath him.
His lips met the rising sun and moon, and her breath grew ragged.
They met, the painted lovers, and the world shook itself back into place. He claimed her in name of everything he had forsaken, and she took him, body, mind, and soul.
His name had been painted on her heart, and hers was fully entwined with his.