Aorta
by SMYGO4EVA
Nothing more than instruments, tools in the Holy Grail War. They were nothing than pawns in a cruel joke.
Lancer held his crimson spear firmly. He knew his days in this new era were numbered; that was the fate of a Servant. Such as one Rider, her cursed eyes shielded yet all-seeing. She held her blade, a force of habit, the chains snaked, pooling by her feet. She didn't even look up, and he didn't need to.
Their weapons soon spirited away; no need for them at this moment, not for this battle. She was the first to close the space between them, her sweet-smelling breath upon his face. He cupped her full breasts, and she gasped softly, her shaking hands upon his muscled arms, as she felt a strong throb pulse between her legs.
Lancer then pressed Rider further against the stone wall, his crimson-tinged eyes narrowing with a stirred hunger for this moment. Her face was flushed, tinted pink with an undeniable lust, and her body undulating against the warrior's fingers gliding over her tremoring form, down her chest, trailing down her skirt, and close to her throbbing core.
"Do you think that I should stop?"
"No, please….keep going please…make me forget."
"As you wish."
He said it softly that it made her ache.
Lancer paused, then he lifted a hand close to her face, and he grazed a thumb over Rider's lips, and her mouth opened like she was close to ecstasy, all at that brief moment of contact. So gentle, and all-consuming, so far from the rough edges of both a warrior and a monster.
She would be his in any way she can, and he would be marred by thorns for her.
They were more than playthings in this game of chess, and yet they couldn't stay idle for long.