TITLE: The Longest Day
Author: Shabbytiger
Show: Merlin
Pairing: Arthur and Gwen
Genre: Romance
Warnings: MA for adult content later...plus set after episode 3 x 10.
Disclaimer: Characters not mine, just borrowed for naughty purposes :P
Multi Chapter and Complete.
/
Gwen tried to speak, she really did when he walked through the door, head bent before looking her direct in the eye. She meant to offer tea, offer anything, but he just raised his face that way he did when they were alone, and all the words in the world fell from her skull and left her mute.
He closed the door slowly, as if scared of making any sudden movement and breaking the moment. The intoxicating combination of his physical strength and emotional vulnerability slammed into her as his eyes connected again, a deep navy blue that glowed with an inner fire that positively pulsed to life between them. The stark question, and the fact he was here, had taken her gesture and returned it gave her courage in the silence. They were no longer the awkward glancing pair denying the depth of their emotional bond. So she refused to falter again as her skin shrilled in anticipation of his touch.
As the seconds stretched, she began to move, and was gratified by the subtle exhale of Arthur's chest as she approached. It was the most natural thing in the world to reach up and cup his face, to press her thumb to his softly stubbled jaw and circle it, as he turned, closed his eyes and touched his lips to her palm. The connection was erotic as hell and Gwen let her eyelids drop, Arthur filling her vision, and his slight groan buzzing through her like static. Her breathing became a hiccup in her lungs and throat as Arthur draped a hand at her waist, pulling her to him, and the reality of his presence, and fingers scorching her skin through her corset had her stomach flipping cartwheels and her heart performing one long beat that she feared may never end.
Now his free hand was at her nape, and her hand sliding from his jaw as his mouth found hers in a languid kiss. She melted. Breathed deep, and pressed closer as his tongue brushed her lips, his hold at her waist and the fingers curling in her hair still loose, his body taut. She smiled into his kiss and let his tongue slide between her teeth, his hesitance speaking to something she hadn't realised she was clinging to. She let it go easily, a boat being freed from its moorings, and threaded her hands through his fair hair, holding his head as she kissed him back. She flicked her tongue to his, and the brief shock the move sparked in his frame sent her knees watery.
Their first kiss had been in this room, lit by golden sunlight, as he had prepared to joust one last time as Sir William. That kiss had startled her, drawn her in, the impulsive gesture on Arthur's part taking them both by surprise. Yet the beauty of it had haunted her, such a simple sweet kiss, purely given, without thought of consequence. Now she craved more than the sweet kisses they had shared spurred by circumstance and timing. As his chest pulsed beneath hers, the dark rough hairs peeking through the loose ties of his vee necked shirt tickling her collar bone as she strained on tip toes to hold his mouth to hers, she revelled in the luxury of the unhurried kiss. Savouring the way his tongue stroked and teased hers, the way he tasted of apples and mint, with a hint of wine beneath. Her skin broke out in goosebumps as his fingers stroked upwards, his hand curving at her side and his thumb and palm settling below the curve of her breast. In one fell swoop her corset was both non existent and entirely too constricting. Her lungs stopped working.
They broke the kiss momentarily, and Gwen stared at Arthur, lips parted, glossy in the half glow of the candle light. His face was a pale sculpture, blue eyes heated as he opened them slow, cheek bones sharp in relief where charcoal shadows fell. He was gorgeous, no denying it, she thought raggedly, his hair golden and slightly skewed from her hands roaming through it. He was also flesh and blood and bone and heart, and as his hand stroked further upwards, his thumb pad brushing the delicate skin of her breast peeking above the gown, her thoughts shattered like glass.
Gripping his forearm, the masculine sinew covered in fine hairs flexing under her grasp, she pulled his teasing fingers upwards, to her mouth. It was almost unbearable to hold his gaze, as his pupils dilated till dark pools drowned her, but she held on, keeping the eye contact through her lashes, as she drew one strong lean finger into her mouth, and sucked gently. His lips parted, his tongue darting out, then his jaw clamped and he let her play, though from her hold on his arm, she could sense his desire jump, as his muscles strained. She knew she was behaving wantonly, yet it did not seem wanton, rather, exactly right. This was right.
Suckling on his finger she splayed his hand, pushing her head back into the hand that never strayed from her neck, relishing the power and heat his touch radiated. He was a wall, all strength and muscle and immovability, but she knew if she protested he would still. That knowledge gave her a confidence like nothing else, and she bit down on his index finger, before licking the length of it, and nibbling again. His eyes gleamed, and she found the soft flesh between his thumb and forefinger, sucking and kissing, teasing the calloused palm with a hot tongue. She wanted to cherish him, worship him, the way his eyes and mouth did her whenever they could. His weariness was not a cloud he carried, but she was acutely aware of his fatigue, it lived in the swoop of his shoulder, in the crooked half smile he wore when thoughtful, in the furrow of his brow he lifted quickly when being observed. Mimicking the kiss to the palm he had greeted her with, she stared at his response, wallowing in his passion deep gaze. Then he stepped closer, just a fraction, and his legs were wrapped in her skirts, burning her up, as his erection hit her thigh, smooth and hard through the silky fabric of her dress.
Instinctively, she ground at him, her hips rolling and his head snapped to the ceiling, his throat exposed and kissable, so she took advantage, burying her face in his neck, licking and tasting , opening her mouth in wide greedy pulls at his skin. Her hands rested upon both forearms now, and she felt the shift, as she stroked from his wrists upward to his elbow, circling the soft delicate skin in the crease of his arm.
As she let her teeth sink into his muscled shoulder line, followed by a sweep of her tongue, she wobbled as his control smashed and found herself hoisted to the table top, to sit on the wooden bench whilst he slipped between her thighs and tugged her bottom closer to the edge of the table, so that his arousal struck gold at the juncture of her thighs. Now Gwen's head swam, as Arthur bent to steal her lips in a hot wet kiss that fried her cognitive functions. The kiss laid it bare, all tongue and teeth and incendiary sucking on her lower lip, his tongue dipping into the sensitive flesh just behind . It sent spasms through her hips and she jerked forward, meeting his stiff arousal in a wild clash of legs and thighs and hard and soft. She moaned, unashamedly.
Finally he spoke, dragging his mouth from hers, breathing hard, eyes like thunder.
" Guinevere you should tell me to go now." A quick kiss, nibbling her top lip, pulling it into his mouth with a groan. " Tell me to go, before I make a fool of myself."
" Arthur," it came out a breathy whisper, half strangled as he sought her mouth again, leaning down on her, his chest a furnace blast against the skin at her throat and peeking above her corset. " Why would you think such a thing?" Another kiss, wetter, hotter, forcing her back to the table top. " You aren't making-"
" Guinevere," he pulled back, forehead kissing hers as he panted, his voice like gravel that scoured her entire nervous system, " I want more than we can have right now." Nudging her with his arousal, letting her feel exactly what he wanted, what his body wanted. " I should-"
Grasping his head firmly, she forced him to look her in face, to see the truth in her words.
" Arthur." His name cracked, and she swallowed, smiling. " I'm yours. You're mine. You can have anything you want." She felt her face flood with bright colour, but lifted her chin anyway, not wishing to spoil the moment with coyness. wanting him to understand exactly what she was offering. She shouldn't offer it. It wasn't ladylike, or demure, or any of the things she supposed a serving girl should offer a Prince with hopes he would love her afterwards, but in the glow of candlelight and in the circle of his arms, it was the truth. With so much stacked against them, the future no matter their optimism was uncertain. He was here now. And so was she.
" Guinevere." He breathed her name, as always turning the syllables into a caress, and her heart jacked, as his face softened, the weight of her words settling upon him. " I lo-"
" No." She kissed his declaration away. The words still a promise that on some level she shied from. They seemed such a fantasy. So like a fairytale. " Don't tell me. Show me."
And that undid him.