Sequel to Only Fools Rush In and Like a River Flows
Prompt: A kiss on the; chest (#15/25)
Setting: Fairytale Land

They made it into the room without much incident. A lingering moment with her pressed against the door as he dizzied her with a thorough kiss, just before they crashed into the room — thankful for the clamoring party still taking place downstairs. No one was around, nor would they be for the next few hours he suspected, but the audible click of the lock was not lost to his ears, her hand leaving his shoulder for a fleeting moment to ensure their safety.

She was giving in. To his kisses, every promise of more. And he had more than more to give.

A glance to the bed as he carried her, had him already mourning the feeling of her wrapped around him as she was — they would get there in time, but for now he was quite content in their present state.

He brought them to her vanity, sitting her atop it with a noticeable lack of finesse, as he was so focused on still kissing her, touching her, how could he be to blame when a few knickknacks met their fate on the floor.

Her dress plumed out in waves of taffeta, that he had no qualms about pushing higher up her legs to stand between them. He shed his dress jacket, tossing it toward the bed, caring little when the metal rivets were heard hitting the floor. This was a much better alternative to the goings on below them, he thought. If he'd been made to watch her a minute longer, with no right to even offer her a dance, he may have gone mad. But here, now, he could offer her another sort of dance — musicless, but for the sounds they both emitted. But he would much rather dance to her symphony of sighs, watch as her stunning architecture moved this way and that, chest rising and falling, bitten lips and heavy eyes. She was a sight to be seen. And he relished in every piece of her he was let to see. Ravished her for allowing it, which seemed to ensure he'd be allowed once again.

Within the endless collection of kisses they were engaging in, his shirt buttons fell open one by one. But it wasn't the sensation of hands that he felt moving down his torso to undo another. Her fingers were in the midst of a little spell, despite her hands still being linked behind his head.

"That — is cheating,"

He spoke against her, pulling her to the edge of the vanity table roughly enough to bring a soft gasp from her smirking lips.

"Not cheating,"

She breathed back, one hand slinking down his now exposed chest and torso, winding around to grip his back, pulling him closer.

"Just a parlor trick really,"

She smirked again, lips curling up and life in her eyes, such a pleasant change from the earlier part of the evening. But those smirking lips were setting a fire in him, one that threatened to burn him out before he had a chance to consume her as well.

He pulled the puffed sleeves of her dress down her arms, just enough to expose her upper chest. Lavishing her with a few kisses there, to which she arched and angled herself for more. And it was then he decided to throw a little kink in the system, a subtle roadblock unless she were to accommodate him without question.

"Why don't — you put that trick of yours to better use…" He spoke lowly against her, hands feebly gripping at her through too many layers of fabric. He pulled the top of the dress down a little farther, as far as it could go before her corset came into view, holding too many parts of her behind its ribbed frame. "This needs to go."

Her eyes found his again, challenging — weighing whether or not to make him work for it a little longer. But after another kiss to the top of her breast, one that left the faintest mark, he could see the change in her eyes, going from fiery determination to keep her resolve in tact, to dilating pupils and parted lips, her breathing going a little more ragged as his teeth did their part in making the mark a little more visible — the sensation sending a shockwave down her spine.

Within a wave of her hand violet smoke engulfed her figure, dissipating to reveal that the dress and more had in fact left with it, leaving her in stockings and little else. Both hands came to splay on her now bare back, pulling her a little closer, and encouraging she push even farther into the posture, until her head dropped back and her breasts pushed up, waiting for his attention.

From this angle he could see her expressions reflected in the mirror, wrong side up but still giving him a view of what his every touch was doing. How when fingers slid up her spine as lips descended to the swell of her breast, she took her bottom lip between her teeth, bit down harder when he trailed closer to the center, released completely to let out a humming sigh when he took her in a full kiss, allowing his tongue to take a turn as well.

He unwound an arm from around her, so a hand could grip at her ribs before traipsing up, laying attention to her other breast as he was quite content not to move from his position. He watched as her eyebrows would crease and relax, as she set her jaw only to release it for a breathy exhale when his thumb flicked across her.

She was a vision. A vision for only him to see. As if he'd been (un)rightfully imbued with some sort of second sight, that only showed itself when she was near. That had him wanting to be nearer more often, if only to catch longer glimpses, to use this power for all it was worth. It did nothing for him when they weren't alone, and while that fact had been a thought before, seeing it in action had been dreadful — watching as others couldn't have cared to see her, and yet stayed in her presence to mock her very name.

She was a Queen. Her name announced it before it had even been true. She was destined for a crown, whether she wanted it or not. And while at first, it was admittedly the crown and her slight and pleasing frame that had drawn him in so close, now it was so much more that kept him there, so much of what laid inside her, found within tired whisperings before he departed into the night. They had him risking himself to be here, to meet her in front of her King as if he'd not seen and touched more parts of her than the man himself could say. As if he had a single fleck of guilt that he had, would be again within an hour, as their current state proved.

Every still-gentle writhe he brought out of her now, made the risk mean next to nothing. How could it, when his lips were trailing up her center line, bringing her to sit back up and tangle around him — ivy branching out in the sun, a vision — to return his kiss to her lips and gather her up, moving them to her bed — determined, to give her the royal treatment she deserved.

A/N: A fourth part seems kind of inevitable, we shall see.