A/N: Okay everyone. So I recently discovered Riddick fan fiction (don't own that either) and I noticed a lack of Vaako/Dame Vaako and I thought to myself, 'hmm that won't do at all'. So here's the result. Also this is my first fic so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors, should you find any. Written while listening to Don't You Want to Stay by Jason Aldean.
Disclaimer: I don't own this. Never did, never had. Don't hurt me.
Vaako let his hand lazily trail up and down his wife's naked spine. She slept on, breathing quietly in their bedroom. She looked radiant while she slept. Peaceful. Honest. No walls except those of her eyelids, shutting her off from reality.
The commander rolled over so he was pressed against her slender body, his big hands sweeping down her back from shoulder to the curve where lower back met ass. She hummed her approval of his caresses so he did it again. When she sighed Vaako knew she was awake.
"Good morning, wife," he rumbled out.
Sleepy eyes cracked open to greet him. "Good morning, husband." She snuggled closer to his bulk. For a half dead man, Vaako's body was always warm, the perfect mold for her body to snuggle up to after a long day among society. She could stay their all night.
A strong arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer, her face in the crook of his neck. The commander pressed a kiss to his wife's forehead, cheek, nose, and ear. Her sweet scent settled into his skin, just as his rubbed off on her.
'Mine'. It was a quiet thought, just at the back of his mind, but it awoke the animal in him, and he felt his arousal settle in the pit of his stomach. Without a second thought, he rolled them over onto his wife's back. His body pressed against hers. Breast to breast, belly to belly, heat to heat.
"Vaako." It was low, a purr from her throat questioning his intentions. He brushed the hair from her face, one of hers running under his bicep to press palm flat against his spine. Leaning down, he breathed her in, just smelling her. She smelled like cinnamon and honey and something else that was entirely her own. It made his heart race. He rolled his hips gently against hers when she met his gaze, eyes and body open beneath him. Her lips parted in invitation, but instead of meeting them in a kiss, he lowered his mouth to her throat, just grazing it with soft lips until she moaned. Vaako groaned in approval then began leisurely rolling against her and she met him halfway in their primitive dance.
He couldn't hold back any longer and gave in to the voice that insisted he mark what was his. Without warning he bit down on his Dame's throat. She gasped in surprise and he licked the wound in apology before biting down again. Hard.
This time his wife breathed deeply through the pleasure-pain. He suckled the sweet skin and rewarded her patience with sweeping strokes of his hand down her side and across her breast. He bit at her throat, finally drawing back to admire his work. A single, bright bruise with his teeth marks made a home on her skin. Vaako grinned with male pride. His dame, his wife, his mate, effectively marked as his for the Necromonger court to see.
Especially since her gown wouldn't conceal the mark.
"Biting isn't very nice, Vaako," she quipped at him. He just smiled and pressed his forehead against hers.
"Just marking what is mine." She smiled that sweet smile reserved only for leisurely mornings like this. He smirked back and purposely rolled his hips only for her to push back. They fit themselves together in a lazy, drawn out, morning tumble. When they were done, his wife had two additional marks.
Vaako let his land lazily trail up and down his wife's naked spine while she marked what was hers.