Disclaimer: If I owned these beautiful characters, I don't know quite what I'd do, but it probably wouldn't involve smutty fanfiction when I should be doing homework.
Dedication: to my wonderful gorgeous friend Rina, Σ 'αγαπώ.
Charles hadn't been Camilla's first kiss, but he had been her first, well, σεξουαλική επαφή. Unless one counted the kisses of childhood, back when they shared baths in a way that their grandmother approved of, and they'd kiss each other before bed every night.
But that didn't count, surely. Because then they had been brother and sister, not whatever they became the night they both turned seventeen.
They'd had fireworks – and not the metaphorical kind that one so often finds in novels, when the lovers kiss for the first time, literal fireworks that lit up the sky – and for some reason, over the smell of smoke and under the light of the sparkles above, Camilla had turned to her brother and noticed just how beautiful he was.
Perhaps that made her arrogant. Perhaps that made her selfish. Frankly, she already knew that she was both of these things and, unspeakingly, as their actions so often were, they left together, the rest of their family watching the show in the sky.
Let them watch, she thought. The real show would be inside.
His usually clear eyes were clouded by lust, inside her room, just as she presumed hers would be, and he pulled her hair violently out of its ribbon as she stripped out of her white dress, and they together worked on the buttons of his shirt because of course they did it together, it was all they truly knew how to do.
She knew already that he knew what to do, so she followed his lead. He pushed her onto the bed, and almost fell on top of her, holding himself just above her body as he kissed her. She moaned, and pulled him closer, pushing his naked body onto hers, feeling the skin of his chest brush her nipples, and she wondered about her mother's pregnancy for a second, because she could swear that there was a memory hidden somewhere at the back of her mind of a dark place with only her and Charles, just like this was, and then he touched her and oh, why hadn't they done this before?
He trailed a line of kisses down her neck, stopping for a breathe of a moment to look at her, and rubbed a small circle with his thumb just above her slit and Γαμώτο. Trailing her own fingers down his chest, she gently stroked him, and he stopped for a shuddering second, pressing the crown of his head against her chest.
With her other hand, she pulled his head back up to her, and kissed him again, and as he flipped them over so she was above him, she arched her hips and pushed oh so gently, gasping as she felt him inside of her.
His eyes widened and when she pulled away he pulled on her hips, forcing her back down onto him, and she whimpered because gods this couldn't be right but how could it be wrong, how could any of it be wrong when he looked so beautiful, his face shining with a light sheen of sweat, his lips swollen and his eyes (her eyes) almost begging her to continue.
He rolled them over again, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing him, tugging on his hair, doing all she could to keep him on her, in her, to make him her, but then it was over, and he rolled off, panting, and she realised how much that had hurt.
They kissed again, something sweeter this time, and lay tangled up in each other, his hand in her hair, her face in his chest, their legs an untangleable knot.
Camilla couldn't see her reflection in the mirror, but she didn't care. Because she knew just how beautiful they were, and she didn't need proof.
AN: Yeah, first smut, bit scary. Please review!
The Greek means: literally 'sexual encounter', which is just a nicer way of saying sex, and then 'fuck', as in swearing.
