AN- Written for Royai Smut Week 2018 - Mia culpa...
Good natured and half naked Hawkeye guided him through the small, neat apartment to her bedroom. Mustang complied as she turned him onto the bed, raising his arms in surrender as she stripped away his shirt. She appraised his total nakedness and his excitement deepened.
As he bought his arms back down he let his hands slide across her torso, savouring the delicate sensation of skin against skin; his palms crossing her belly and encircling her thighs, his fingertips trailing raised flesh across the sensitive skin.
"My turn," he smiled as he pulled her in closer and slowly began to undo the belt and zipper of the blue trousers. Pulling open the pants he began to kiss along the line of her undies. His lips traced the firm curves of her belly, up the midline of her torso until he reached her belly button. Taking his time he ran his tongue around it's recesses and held her firm as she reflexively twitched.
"Humm," he gazed up at her, "fluffy lint flavour."
She blinked down at him, distracted from her pleasure.
"Well, I never asked you to stick your tongue in there."
"Where would you like me to stick my tongue then?" he mused as he continued to kiss along her hip.
In reply Hawkeye let the last of her uniform slip to the floor. She deftly stepped out of her pants and kicked them out of the way. He smiled at her foresight, as she leant in closer towards him.
This woman, hardened and scarred from the years; he still remembered the lithe youthful girl whose back he'd studied. But this woman who'd fought with him, stood beside him, kept him moving forward, she was more beautiful still. And the look in her eye, at once hungry and playful, her delighted expression and willingness, aroused him even more.
His hands caressed her buttocks and thighs as he began to kiss along her hip bone and down towards her crotch. He playfully snuggled his face into her blonde hair as he breathed in her scent.
Having only just finished stripping, her labium were still overlapped together. Mustang dipped his tongue gently between the folds, separating them and clearing the way to the opening they covered. As he continued to play his lips against hers, his tongue worked its way back and forth across the sensitive areas of her crotch.
A shiver ran through her as his mouth settled on her clitoris and began to fondle her with his tongue and his lips. Hawkeye drew a shuddering breath and raised a hand to his head. At first he thought she might push him away, but her hands ran through his hair and pulled him in close.
There was no mystery to sex for Mustang. He'd done sex. Never had trouble finding a woman if he wanted one. Always tried to be genuine, honest, and give as much as he got. It was arousing, physical and pleasurable. But never really fun.
After Ishval, somehow it just wasn't a thing he wanted.
But this was altogether different. Every part of him wanted her. And wanted every part of her.
The sharp tracks her nails ran across his scalp sent a shiver down his spine. One hand firm on her abdomen he slipped his other hand between her thighs and brought his thumb up into her. She was wet now and he could feel the growing arousal swelling through her as he let his fingers continue to play wherever they would.
A small moan escaped Hawkeye's lips as she gently took his face in her hands and pushed him away. She lent in, eyes glistening and kissed him, tasting herself in his mouth.
"Move up," she murmured against him.
Mustang lifted himself away from her so he could move himself further up onto the bed. With the pillows stacked behind him he lay in a half seated position. As Hawkeye followed up onto the bed he took a moment to moisten the length of his erection with her wetness that remained on his hand.
Practical, agile, beautiful, Hawkeye moved across the bed and knelt across him.
Achingly slowly, she slid herself down over his erection, taking him deep into herself. Warm and moist and so right, he felt himself dissolving into her.
As she began to rock back and forth he sensed her clenching around him. He slid his feet up the bed to get some purchase against the mattress and began to lift his hips against her, synchronising with her rocking, hands on her hips, pulling into her, following her motion.
As she thrust against him.
Her grip on him was as enthralling as her abandoned expression and he was happy to let her take her time.
The sight of their hair, blonde and black, messing together at their groins strangely fascinated him and he realised he was smiling. He looked up to see her smiling back at him.
Her face tilted into his hand as he reached up to caress her. He ran his hand over her forehead and her half lidded eyes and then brought his hand down her cheek so his thumb could play across her mouth. She readily parted her lips and took in his thumb, rolling it over her tongue and sucking at it.
Now wet with her saliva, his thumb found her clitoris again and as she continued to ride herself against him, he timed his strokes against her.
For as long as he has known her, lived with her, worked with her, bled with her, she has been his desire. Not sex. Her. Riza Hawkeye.
Breaths were becoming shallow and fast as Hawkeye lent forward and gripped Mustangs chest. The pressing urgency of the moment took control, she lost her rhythm and shuddered in the swell of pleasure and all too fleeting euphoria.
There was no pretence in this moment. Just the need to have and be had, the desire to lose himself in that strange instant of oneness with her and be overwhelmed.
And overwhelmed he was.
There was no mystery to sex for Mustang.
But he'd never made love before.
Not before he loved Riza Hawkeye.