A/N: Prompt: "Let's be real, the only Catholic prayer Bash actually knows is the Hail Mary." AU wherein Mary and Bash are happy newlyweds.
Mary's back hit the mattress with a bit more force than either one of them had expected, but she didn't seem to mind it any more than Bash did. Arching her back up to meet his chest with hers, Mary threaded her fingers in his hair and dragged him down to her mouth, kissing him like they were trying to inhale one another on a primal level. A thin sheen of sweat shone on both of their bare bodies, chests heaving to take in enough air. They'd been going at one another for what felt like an eternity, making love and laughing with the same draw of breath, Bash tickling Mary until she cried and Mary sending him out of the warmth and comfort of their bed to collect deliveries of food from the servants when they knocked. They hadn't left their room in almost two days - royalty or not, they were on their honeymoon, and with his youngest brothers still in the castle, Bash hadn't felt comfortable leaving for too long. With Mary naked under him, though, his little brothers were the last thing on his mind. He groaned into her mouth when she bit down on his lower lip, his fingers digging into her hips and pushing down, arching her back further as he moved over her. He was rewarded with a whimper and a tug on his hair as Mary slid the inside of her leg along the outside of his, bracing her heel onto the mattress to try and lift her hips against his grip, trying to grind against him. Bash, however, had another idea, and tore his lips from hers to move down to her neck, sucking and biting but pulling away before he could leave a mark. As much as he wanted to, it'd be too visible there. The rest of her body, however...he sat up suddenly, making her whine from the sudden rush of cold air on her heated skin, and stared down at her, his fingers smoothing over her sides as he did so.
"Do you have any idea how beautiful you look?" He asked in a hushed whisper, his fingers splaying over her skin.
"Well, I can't exactly see myself from this angle. Perhaps you should install a mirror..." she started, her tone dry but a giggle clearly edging its way into her words, and Bash groaned with laughter, burying his face in her neck and chuckling against her skin. The rumble started in his chest, making her wiggle underneath him with laughter of her own.
He bit down on her skin in retaliation, and she yelped through her giggles, swatting his arm. "Sebastian!"
He hummed noncommittally against her skin, soothing the sting of his teeth with a quick swipe of the tip of his tongue, his lips following to move down to her collarbone. "I'm serious," he said, speaking between kisses in as calm of a tone as if he were speaking in between bites of food at the dinner table. "You look like...a goddess," he murmured reverently, his lips brushing the swell of her breast before his tongue darted out to follow the motion.
"And you call yourself a Catholic," she laughed, the sound catching in her throat as his teeth scraped over her nipple. "You're just as pagan as your bodyguard," Mary managed, her voice a little strained as his teeth worried her sensitive nipple for a moment.
He released her a moment later, nuzzling between her breasts with the tip of his nose before moving to give the other one the same treatment. "Isn't the holy Mary as good as a goddess in her own right?" He asked, his tongue swiping over her skin almost lazily.
"Bash, now is not the time for a theological debate."
He tried not to laugh, really, he did, but the tone of her voice - irritated and strained with lust and need - was enough to send him over into another bout of chuckles, which earned him a swat on the head. "Sorry, sorry- ow!" He laughed, ducking away from her hand and glaring cheekily at her. "Mary, I'm trying to pay you a compliment, don't abuse me."
"Oh, get on with it, then," she sighed, flopping her head back against the pillows, and he grinned against the flat, smooth skin of her stomach. She truly was adorable when she was frustrated, and the beginnings of an idea started to bud in his mind. Sliding one hand down her side to her thigh, he hitched her leg around his waist, bending down to flick his tongue against her skin once more.
"Hail Mary," he murmured, his nose bumping her navel once before his teeth scraped the skin just below it, "full of grace, the Lord is with thee."
He could see her out of the corner of his eye, sitting up and bracing her weight on her elbows. Bash was sure she was about to ask him what he was doing, but he simply returned his attention to the task at hand - worshiping his queen. "Blessed art thou among women," he recited, turning his head to press a kiss to the inside of her thigh, "and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus," he continued, leaning up again to press his lips to the skin between her navel and her sex, his mind lingering for a moment on the idea of a child growing in her womb, holy or not. "Holy Mary, mother of God," he finally whispered, his voice raw as he dragged his lips across the inside of her other thigh, sending a shudder through her whole body.
"Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death," he whispered against her skin, his breath ghosting across her sex before his tongue followed the same path, flicking against her clit lazily. Bash could hear her moan, could feel the mattress dip as she let her back fall to the pillows once again, her hands clenching in the sheets. Shifting against her, he nearly lapped at her, drawing a moan from Mary's throat as he did so. His hands smoothed over her thighs again, keeping them from clamping down on either side of his head - she had a habit of doing that, and couldn't seem to entirely control it. It would have made him proud if it didn't make him so sad to think that experienced though she might be, this was one of the things she didn't have experience with. And while she'd been enthusiastic about the idea of taking charge in their bedroom, Bash paying her body the attention he thought it deserved still didn't seem to come naturally to her. So with one hand moving to rest his forearm over her abdomen, he lifted his chin, his tongue now drawing abstract shapes against her clit - numbers, letters, i love you's, i'm yours - and brushed her opening with a finger, teasing and testing. It slid in without resistance, her arousal coating his skin, and he groaned against her delightedly, sending another shiver up her spine. The shiver seemed to carry his groan to her throat, because a soft sigh of a moan left her lips a moment later, her fingers tightening in the sheets as he continued to trace his tongue over her clit. The moan turned into a whine a moment later as he added a second finger, her hips twisting against his forearm. He managed to hold her still, but Mary was getting more and more vocal, and clenching around his fingers to boot, and he knew neither one of them were going to last long if the other kept it up. There were few things on this earth that held sway over him like Mary's voice - Mary's voice in the throes of passion, Mary's voice on the brink of climax, well, that was impossible to ignore or deny. He flattened his tongue against her immediately, thrusting his fingers slowly and gently, and he could feel more than hear her head slam back against the ridiculous amount of pillows on their bed.
"Bash," she whined, and he could tell she was clenching her teeth around the words. "Bash, please."
He lifted his head ever so slightly, drawing a sound of ire from her, and pressed his lips to the side of her thigh again. "Your wish is my command," he murmured, sliding his fingers and curling them before the tip of his tongue was tracing against her clit again, his thumb brushing along the outside of her folds and his hips pressing painfully into the mattress. Her chest was nearly heaving with lack of air, light and airy moans turning into higher pitched gasps and whimpers, and suddenly she was clenching tightly around his fingers, her legs nearly clamping around him, stopped only by the quick shift of his forearm to the side of his ear. Bash stilled, letting her ride it out, easing her down gently from her release, and then slipped his fingers out, wiping them on the sheets and then wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he knelt back up. Something about the motion seemed to stir something in Mary, because suddenly she was surging up to kiss him, her hands grabbing his shoulders and pushing him back against the bed.
She still hadn't quite gotten the hang of that - they fell in a mass of tangled limbs, Bash wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing his forearm against her back, and burst into laughter as she peppered his face with kisses.
"Well? Was that Catholic enough for you?" He teased, poking her in the ribs, and she giggled, squirming away from him.
"Don't be an ass," Mary murmured, flushing and sliding her nose along his delicately.
"Mmm, but you've such a nice one," he teased, his hands coming up to squeeze her aforementioned body part, and Mary gasped, making him laugh once more, delighting in her reaction.
"Sebastian de Poitiers, you are without a doubt the cheekiest man I've ever met," she laughed, swatting at his wrist blindly and kissing him again. "Now make love to me before I change my mind," she murmured, smiling against his lips.
Grinning, he shifted his grip on her, wrapping an arm around her and keeping her in place with his forearm, and then rolled back on top of her, catching himself with a hand on one side of her head. "If my queen commands," he teased, sliding a hand down to adjust himself before thrusting inside of her.
Her laugh caught in her throat on a moan, nails digging into his biceps, and she wrapped a leg around him, calf pressed against his back, rolling her hips up to meet him. She'd never thought she could feel something so good as this, never imagined there was a sensation as amazing as the feeling of him sliding in and out of her. Bash, for his part, was struggling to keep a level head, struggling to think of anything other than the beautiful, spectacular queen below him who was gasping his name like it was the only thing that mattered anymore. If he thought about that for too long, he might die right then and there. So instead he grabbed the headboard, clenching his hand around it tightly and using the pain to keep him grounded long enough to use his other hand to seek out Mary's clit once again. His head ducked in an effort to find it, fumbling, but once he did Mary let out her loudest moan yet, and under any other circumstance he might have worried she was in pain. As it was, it only took three more thrusts and a twist of his thumb to send her over the edge, and by then, well, keeping his release at bay wasn't an option anymore.
He nearly collapsed on top of her, rolling at the last second to whisk her on top of him instead of crushing her, and she gasped against his chest, flattening herself against him. They both fumbled around for the blankets, tossing one over Mary's back and Bash's legs, and then relaxed against both the sheets and each other, still gasping for air. Minutes passed before he could even begin to think about forming a coherent sentence, and with a lazy grin and a quick kiss to the top of her head, he murmured, "Peace be with you, my love."
Even her laugh was breathless and tired, starting from her toes as she buried her head into his chest and groaned. "And also with you," she giggled, shaking her head as he marveled at her, wondering just what he'd done that was so great in God's eyes that Mary's love had been the reward.