Author's Notes: Yeah, uhm... this is smut. Outright, shameless smut. Sappy smut, even. Smut which is basically an excuse for my imagination to go to town regarding my own... inclinations where Augustus (and, to a lesser extent, Estelle) are concerned. I make absolutely no attempt to present this as anything other than what it is.
If you're looking for politics, it ain't here. If you're looking for character development, it ain't here. If you're looking for smut involving our petite Governor-General and our resident underestimated badass Admiral, on the other hand, you are most certainly in the right place. (Also, calling it now - that one's going canon.)
His kiss was like nothing she'd ever felt in her life.
"Estelle," he murmured against her mouth, and a long slow shiver ran down her spine at the sound of her name in that deep rich voice.
He'd always been a methodical man, a contemplative considerate man, paying painstaking attention to every detail, no matter how seemingly unimportant.
So why, she wondered giddily, had she ever thought he'd kiss any differently?
His mouth covered hers, sweet and slow and so thorough it took her breath away. His broad hand tangled in her hair to cradle the back of her head, his other arm wrapped firmly around her waist, and that was when her knees gave out.
"Augustus," she managed finally, even as he still held her up, and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled down at her.
"Still think this is a bad idea?" he asked her conversationally, his thumb stroking fire over her shoulder blade.
"The worst," she breathed.
And she pulled his mouth back down to hers.
He chuckled, warm and throaty. Her mouth opened under his with a whimper, and she made a soft protesting noise when his lips parted from hers again.
"A terrible idea, clearly," he murmured, laughter shimmering in his voice. "Obviously there's no reason why we should be doing this at all."
"None whatsoever." Her voice squeaked like a teenager's. "It's not like I'm…"
As what she had been about to say slammed through her mind, she gasped and squirmed, trying to get away, but those strong arms were holding her tight and in the end she managed to get precisely nowhere at all.
His eyes blazed into hers, suddenly, abruptly serious. "It's not like you're what, Estelle?"
"I…" Memories flashed behind her eyes - of the day they'd heard about the Yawata Strike and of how his arms had opened for her before she even knew she needed to hold on to him in a world gone mad, of his quiet steady competence in the face of unexpected threat after unexpected threat, of the way he stood in the shadows until he was needed in the light - and had to blink back tears.
"It's not like I'm in love with you," she finished at last, and held her breath.
Something dark and sweet flashed in his eyes, and he bent his head to touch his forehead to hers, closing his eyes as his arms tightened around her.
"I'm no Oversteegen or Terekhov," he said at last. "I was never one for flash, Estelle. Until Monica I was quite convinced I wasn't particularly worth noticing at all. No, darling, don't cry, it's only the truth. What I'm trying to say, love, is that I'll never be the kind of man to have his men cheering him and thrusting their swords in the air. I'm not good at romance, and I'll never be larger than life. And I have absolutely no idea why someone as brilliant and beautiful as you would ever look twice at me. There's not much of me worth noticing, but if you really do want me, I am yours entire. I think I always have been. I love you, Estelle, for whatever it's worth. And I always will."
She hid her face in his shoulder at that, clung to him and let herself shake. "Everything about you is worth noticing," she whispered fiercely. "I don't need flash, Augustus, and if this is you not good at romance, I'm not sure I could survive it if you were. All I want is you, exactly as you are."
She kissed him again, felt him tremble and suppressed a quiet cheer of triumph. His hand was infinitely tender on her hair, and he kissed her back with something almost like reverence.
When he met her eyes again fires were banked and glowing deep inside them. "Come to bed," he blurted, and his face flamed scarlet. "I…"
Enough of this, she thought, and kissed him before he could say another word. When she felt him surrender she pulled away again, cupped his cheek in one hand and said, with no room for misinterpretation, "Yes."
And then he swept her off her feet.
She squeaked as her feet came off the floor, his chuckle warm in her ear as he spun her in a giddy circle, and he was beaming bright enough to put the stars to shame.
"Come on," he said gently, lifting her into a bridal carry as though she weighed nothing at all. "We don't have as much time as I'd like, Estelle, but I intend to make the most of it. I think I've been waiting for you my entire life."
"Really," she breathed as her senses spun. "Then why don't you stop talking about how much you love me, Augustus, and show me instead?"
He settled her back against the pillows, then leaned down to kiss her, long and sweet. "Oh," he said, his voice rich with desire, "I intend to."
He took her to heaven then, with his lips and hands and voice. And he'd been right; he wasn't one for flash. But who needed it, when he was murmuring endearments in her ear, waking fires in every part of her, taking her apart with slow thorough touches and drugging kisses? He loved her with the same quiet, steady patience he used in everything else, touching her as though she were something quite extraordinary, and in his arms she gave herself up to glory.
At the last he cradled her with gentle hands against the broad, stout strength of his body, and she kissed him as she came, quietly, like a sweet, strong wave cresting on the shore.
She woke to the sensation of his hand cupping her cheek. He was smiling down at her, a radiant, beaming grin that erased decades from his face and lit up the room around them like high noon, and before the fog of sleep had even cleared from her mind, she found herself smiling back at him.
"Welcome back," he rumbled softly. "Oh, Estelle!"
She tucked herself closer to him for a long moment, her body still glowing with the aftermath of pleasure. "How long was I out?"
Distantly she heard her own voice, softer, almost kittenish, but she couldn't find it in her to care.
"Only about half an hour," he murmured in her ear. "I couldn't bear to wake you. You looked - so peaceful."
She rolled on her back to look up at him, a smile quirking at the corners of her mouth. "A state for which you are entirely responsible," she teased affectionately, and his cheeks flushed dark at the implication.
"I'd like to continue to be," he admitted. "Estelle, you - I've never felt like this. Never had anything like this." He took a long, slow breath, his barrel chest rising and falling, and her body shivered in unconscious response. "I have no right to ask. And I'm going to anyway, because I need to know before I lose my heart completely. Estelle - Essie, my love - are you seeing anyone else?"
She studied him levelly, and for once he couldn't read the expression in her dark eyes. Only the way she still caressed his hand let the flame of hope inside him still burn.
"Are you asking me not to?"
For an instant doubt flashed in his eyes, but then he took a deep breath and visibly steeled himself. "Yes, Estelle," he said simply. "I'm asking you not to."
She blinked twice, rapidly, and then leaned up and kissed him with everything in her. "Why would I bother," she murmured against his mouth, "when I have you?"
He stared at her for a long moment, then slid a hand into her hair and kissed her so passionately she forgot how to breathe. "Estelle," he said hoarsely, his lips dancing over her cheekbones, her nose, her fluttering eyelids. "Oh, Estelle."
"Idiot." She wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. "What else did you think 'I'm in love with you' meant, you silly, wonderful, gorgeous man?"
He just shook his head and pressed a kiss to her hair, and she could feel him trembling as he held her. "I didn't dare to hope," he said at last. "You were so far out of my reach, Essie, something I could only admire from afar and never dare to dream of, and now you're here, telling me you want me, just me, that you love me, and I…"
She sat up suddenly then, gathering him in so his head was cradled in her lap, and she took one of his large hands - steady hands, capable hands, that could be so delicate and bring her so much pleasure - between both of hers, and kissed his knuckles until they were both dizzy.
"You listen to me now, Augustus Khumalo," she said fiercely. "I love you because you're a good man, a kind man, and patient and honorable and devoted to your duty. I love you because you care about doing the right thing, not about being right. I love you because you can walk away from tactical command when you know you have better people to do it for you. I love you because you accept your strengths and admit your weaknesses, because you can admit when you're wrong but stand firm when you're right. I love you because you opened your arms to me out of pure instinct, offered me shelter and held me together when our world was falling apart. I love you because of everything you are and because of everything you aren't, and maybe it's too soon to say this, but frankly, I am through giving a damn when I know - when I know, Augustus - that I will never love anyone the way I love you, and that I will never want anyone more than I want you. I'm yours, if you'll have me, and that's the end of it."
"If I'll have you?" he choked, sitting straight up to take her mouth in a hot, needy kiss. "If I'll have you? Good God, Estelle, of course I'll have you! You're… you're extraordinary, darling, and I'm anything but -"
She kissed him quiet, left him whimpering into her mouth before she cupped his face in her hands. "You are extraordinary. Even if only for the fact that I love you, Augustus, you are extraordinary."
Gently his hand tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and he smiled. "That, at least, I can accept," he whispered, and kissed her again, slow this time, with the patient thoroughness that she knew very well had spoiled her for anyone else. No one had ever touched her this way, as though she were the most important creature in all the universe - no one except him. She was the center of his world, he told her so without words but with every kiss and every touch, and now anything that wasn't this could ever be enough.
"Touch me," she whispered huskily, her lips caressing the broad palms of his hand. She was trembling under his touch, quivering with an aching warmth that left her breathless, and she needed him as she'd never needed anyone in her life.
His eyes met hers, and they were very, very dark, snapping with ruthlessly suppressed heat. He isn't roused easily, she thought, dizzy with want, but when he is… oh, God help me.
"Show me how," he rasped, and she let out a soft cry at the urgency of the desire in his voice.
She took that beautiful, gentle, powerful hand in hers and guided it to the space between her thighs, felt him brush slick wet heat, and forgot her own name. The crook of his fingers against her left her gasping and arching her hips into his hand, and she moaned into his kiss as her world caught fire.
But that maddeningly gentle hand would not press, would not take, would not give in to the heat that blazed between them, and she cried out in frustration. "I won't break," she choked, rubbing herself against fingers that simply would not give her the pressure she needed. "Augustus, please -"
"I can't hurt you!" The words were torn out of him, an anguished howl born of urgent desire he was barely keeping in check. "I can't hurt you, Estelle, and if I let go - "
She pressed her lips to one massive shoulder, let her teeth scrape bare skin and felt him shudder in agony beneath her. "You won't hurt me." She fought back the tears, tried not to cry. "You won't, my love, I swear it. I want all of you. I need you, Augustus, I need everything you are. Stop holding back and take me there."
"I can't," he said raggedly, even as his fingers flexed convulsively and she let out a sharp, gasping moan as her body gave way. "I can't, Essie -"
Her hand cupped his cheek, and she wiped the tears from his cheekbone with her thumb before she bent to kiss his fluttering lashes. "Yes. Yes, love, we can."
And then she took one delicate hand and curled those slim fingers around the hot hard length of him, and all control broke. That powerful body surged up and over, rolling her underneath him in a single movement, and she laughed in hysterical delight as she took him deep inside her, felt him break her open so the boundary between them blurred and she couldn't tell where he ended and she began. Her body arched against his, opening, accepting, welcoming, and if their first time had been about her, this was about both of them, together, as she took the shock of his desire and answered it with her own.
He said her name like a prayer, and for the first time he was not afraid of the strength of his hands or the power of his body, because he couldn't hurt her when she knew his strength, accepted it, took it in and made it a part of her.
"You're so sweet," he gasped into her mouth, "God, Essie, you're so sweet and you're so small, look at you, darling, just look at you. How can someone so tiny be the size of the universe? God, I want you, Essie, I want you, darling, just take me in-"
She strained against him, begging wordlessly. "I love you," she blurted, "I love the way you hold me, I love the way you touch me, your arms and hands and -" She sounded like a lovestruck schoolgirl, and what was more, she knew it, but she couldn't bring herself to care. If she had lost her head and her heart to this man, so be it. For years her career had come first and never had she met a man who could make her swoon, but Augustus left her panting for breath and weak with wanting. He was no Adonis, true, but his body left hers in molten flames more than any Adonis ever had, or ever could.
Her small hands curled around one powerful bicep, and the world spun as she thought of those arms, those hands, all that power desperate for her.
Augustus Khumalo was a large man, even massive. Powerful shoulders, arms rippling with muscle; broad hands, a barrel rib cage and legs that could snap wood with a single kick if he wanted to. She had been cradled in that strength, surrounded by it, had felt those muscled arms lifting her and carrying her as though she weighed no more than a doll. And for all that the difference in their sizes should have unnerved her, it couldn't, because for all that he could bruise her, he could never hurt her.
He was moving above her now, all that strength maddened with desire, and she gave herself over to it, over to the power of his desire and hers as his body covered her entire and she found herself surrounded by him, enfolded in him for all she enfolded him in turn, and lost her senses entirely.
"Come for me, Estelle." His voice rumbled in her ear, sodden with want and rich as Gryphon bourbon. He touched her gently at the place where they were joined, and she cried out, overcome. "Come for me," he said again, a prayer and a command in one.
Shivering in agonised delight, she hid her face in that powerful shoulder and let herself fall.
God, but she was beautiful. Such a tiny thing, but so strong, so soft. Gently he touched the fingertip bruises he had pressed into her skin, and she purred like a 'kitten and nuzzled closer.
He should have felt shock, horror even, at the prospect of bruising her; but she had welcomed the pressure, begged for it even, and if she didn't regret it, he couldn't bring himself to, either.
Dear God, how had they come to this? It had started with his mouth on hers, only to throw open balcony doors that opened onto whole new worlds, and now the thought of leaving her bed made him want to be sick. Somehow his life had gone from shades of grey to burning colour, and with her the colours blazed brightest of all.
She was curled away from him now, sleeping the exhausted sleep that only transcendent pleasure could bring, but when he reached out to touch her cheek she rolled into his arms, a little dazed. "I want you again," she whispered, half stunned. "Gus, darling, I want…"
Heat blossomed inside him, his body reacting to her words as though she'd set him on fire - and in a way, she had.
Oh, God help him, but he wanted her again.
"Essie," he murmured, and she leaned up on one elbow and kissed him, lavishly, so he moaned into her mouth and cradled the back of her head in his hand.
"I don't want you to go," she said quietly. "I really, really don't. God help me, Augustus, I want you so much I can't breathe with it."
He kissed her in answer, plundered her lips with his and felt her moan against his mouth.
"I don't want to leave," he admitted, a little surprised at the hoarseness of his voice. "Good God, Estelle, the last thing I want in this universe is to leave you now."
Her eyes flickered as she sank into deep thought, and then they lit up, glowing with joy. "Hold on," she said, and he whimpered as the weight of her left him.
She called up her com system, and he watched her with confusion and burgeoning hope.
"Hello, Captain." Her voice was cool and crisp as a Sphinx autumn, but the heat in her gaze curled his toes. "I'm afraid our meeting has run more than a bit over schedule," she continued, "and the Admiral is due back here in the morning anyway. If it would be convenient, he would be more than welcome to stay on-planet until then. Consider this an official invitation." She listened for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, of course you can com him at any time if something comes up. I would expect nothing less." She nodded again, then smiled, something almost feral in her eyes, but no hint of it touched her voice. "Yes, this combination is fine. Thank you very much, Captain. We'll see you tomorrow."
The com clicked off, Augustus staring at her in stark disbelief.
"Estelle," he whispered roughly, and before he could blink she was beside him, kissing him as though she couldn't bear to stop. One slim leg straddled his waist, and he gasped against her mouth as the silky gown she was wearing rode up her thighs and she took him deep in one fast stroke. He arched against her, driving himself impossibly deep, gasping aloud as she clenched around him and he lost the ability to breathe.
"There," she said silkily, in a tone he'd only ever heard her use before when she was about to thoroughly screw over a particularly obnoxious Solly and enjoy every minute of it. "And if you think I'm letting you out of bed between now and that meeting tomorrow, I suggest you think again. Because turnabout is fair play, Admiral, and it's my turn now."
She set her mouth to his chest, let her hands wander and had him gasping her name in a breathy, high-pitched moan that should have been humiliating but was somehow nothing of the kind. The satin of her nightgown rubbed teasingly over his skin, soft as a whisper and erotic as a dream, and his hips arched clear off the bed as her fingers reached between them to touch where he entered her. She wriggled atop him, gasping with the sensation, and he took her hand and pressed his lips to her palm, clutching it like she was his lifeline. Her fingers flexed in his, and he was still distantly amazed to discover that she was touching him, too, as though she were afraid he might vanish.
She is just as besotted as I am, he thought dizzily, for all she wants to hide it.
Heat flared in his gut at the thought, and he dragged her hips down against his; she ground against him and mewled into the skin of his shoulder, and he felt her start to quake inside, shivering with the first shocks of orgasm.
"That's it," he murmured gently. He knew what his voice did to her, had seen her shudder in pleasure when he let his voice rumble out, and he used that power now, unwilling to let her have all the fun. Softly he touched her slick folds, brushed a finger against her opening where she was stretched around him, and heard the hitch in her breath right before she started to shake apart.
"Oh, Estelle." He let his voice rumble. "I wonder, sweetheart, how many times you could come for me?"
She inhaled sharply, and her hips jerked toward his even as she quaked around him. "I think," she managed, "that we're going to find out, Augustus."
He took her mouth then, kept touching her there where they joined and fought back his own peak. They weren't near done yet.
"Again," he rumbled quietly, after she'd fallen apart twice more in his arms.
He was sitting upright, propped against the headboard, and she was utterly limp against his chest, but he was playing her like he would play a piano, and the pleasure he had given her was simply indescribable.
"That's it," he murmured now, and for all that his body inflamed her, she knew, it was his heart that lit the flame, because oh, but what a heart he had! "Come for me, Essie. Come for me, sweetheart. I know you can do it."
Pleasure wracked her yet again, and it was too much and not enough all at once as he kissed a forehead dewed with sweat. "There," he murmured, "there we are, Essie my love. Oh, God, I just want to hold you. I want to hold you and never in my life let you go."
"Don't." Her hips flexed, for all that she should have been wrung out she still couldn't get enough of him, and he clutched her closer still.
Then she trembled again, but sharper, harder, and sucked in a breath. "Augustus," she said, and her voice had dropped by half an octave, "just talk to me. Just... keep talking, whatever I do."
Soothingly he stroked her back, a little puzzled but willing to follow wherever she led. "Anything, Essie, you know that. But - why?"
"Because," she said, closing her eyes as pleasure crossed her face, "I truly think I could come just from that."
Then he was the one to close his eyes, and his voice was very, very rough. "Essie. You are a miracle."
Her hips twitched again, and she arched with a moan, taking his hand and pressing it to her lips. "Keep talking."
"You're so beautiful when you're at work," he went on, finally able to run free with the thoughts that had been echoing through his mind as he came to know the diminutive diplomatic genius who served as Talbott's Imperial Governor. "The way you can smile and talk and no one ever knows what's going on behind your eyes. The way you can charm anyone and everyone, just with a smile. The way your eyes sparkle when you're really amused, and the way you can put someone in their place with just a word and a glare." He caressed her back, felt her arch and relished her moan. "Do you know what you do to me, when you do that? It's the most arousing thing I've ever seen."
"Keep talking." Her voice was barely more than breath, her hips rolling in long slow waves as she took her pleasure of him.
"Oh, look at you, Essie." His hands - so big, so powerful, so amazingly gentle when he wanted to touch her - cupped her breasts, his thumbs teasing the nipples into taut peaks, and her rhythm faltered slightly as she shuddered. "There's never a moment I don't want you. Never a moment I don't dream of you just like this, completely undone. It's only mine, isn't it, love? I'm the only one who can see, the only one allowed to see you like this."
"Only yours," she managed, somehow, through the breath clogging her throat. "Augustus. Only ever yours."
"You're so close, aren't you." It wasn't a question. "I can feel you, Estelle, so tight around me. And you're so close. So much tonight, so much we've done and seen and found, but you're there again already, aren't you? Because you love me, and I love you. You could come just like this, couldn't you, darling? Just from my voice and the feel of me buried inside you? And you will, sweetheart. That's it, Essie my love. Just let yourself go."
"It hurts," she managed, the ragged edge of pleasure in her voice sending a thrill down his spine. "Augustus, I am so close, I think I'm going to - "
Softly, with just the barest whisper of pressure to her swollen nub and the place where they joined, he brushed slick, oversensitive skin.
The result was cataclysmic.
She convulsed around him with a keening cry, the shakes racking her slender body as she clung to him and fell apart.
Her body clamped around his and he was done, his hips bowing to press as far inside her as he could manage, and he kissed her with everything in him as the world faded to black.