First Times — Hadrian & Alessa (Mature)

Cold prickles at his skin like a little thousand needles. Hadrian shakes his head like a dog, sending rainwater everywhere. "Lord in Heaven," he says, removing his dripping coat and stepping out of his boots. "It's like the skies are falling down."

"It's getting worse, isn't it?" you answer from behind. Hadrian turns around to see you shedding your cape and wringing your hair. You look up at him. "I'm not crazy, right?"

"You're not," he says, noticing your flushed cheeks. The cold is to blame for that, he knows, but there's a light in your eyes that makes you look... beautiful. "I, uh. I think the same. That it's worse, I mean."

You frown at the window. Tarragona isn't visible through the glass; it is only a shower of rain and wind. "I don't like it," Hadrian hears you whisper. He glances at you, but you seem to be talking to yourself.

He decides to make himself useful. Picking up an armful of oak logs, Hadrian puts them in the fireplace and uses the bedside lantern to light it. The air is humid, so it takes a while for the flame to catch, but it's not long before a fire crackles pleasantly in the hearth.

Hadrian huddles close, warming his hands, and you join him. Standing together, you make a puddle on the ground. "Thank you," you say quietly.

The glow bathes your skin in a warm hue, your wet hair clings to your forehead, and your thin shirt hugs your body tightly. He can just make out the shape of your collarbones and, below, the expanse of your chest/the soft curves of your breasts.

Hadrian clenches his jaw and makes sure to look at your face only. Being this close to you, alone, is suffocating. Addicting. "It's nothing," he mutters, guilt darkening his tone. He needs to control himself.

You lean your side into him. Hadrian immediately holds your waist, taking in your weight. "Am I the only one who's exhausted?" you say, head resting lightly on his shoulder.

"Definitely not," Hadrian answers. "We should rest. Get some sleep."

"Yes."

Neither of you makes an effort to move.

You stand side by side, watching the flames as the rain splatters your window, arms interlocked in each other. It’s peaceful. As close to blissfulness as Hadrian has ever been, but yet… he finds himself restless.

What he wants, what he really wants, is to kiss you. And, for once in his life, Hadrian decides to give in to his selfish desires. Gently, he tilts your chin up and is met with a soft smile from you, almost as if you were waiting for this exact thing. Smiling back, emboldened, Hadrian lowers his head until his lips meet yours.

God Almighty.

It still shocks him every time you do this. Half of him can't believe he can; the other half would kiss you until it's time to meet his maker. For now, he'll settle for this.

It's gentle; he can trace your lingering smile. Hadrian presses soft kisses along your mouth, his hand cupping your jaw and neck. You sigh, and he drinks it in, tilting your face just a bit more to deepen the kiss.

You sigh again, this time inviting him in, and Lord. Hadrian's chest compresses when your tongue meets his. His other hand guides your waist, turning you to him as your hands hold onto his arms. You lean in against him, locked in a kiss that, like the embers, grows in intensity.

Your hand creeps to his hair, and you pull, and Hadrian's eyes roll to the back of his head. He sweeps his tongue along your teeth, your throat working under his palm, and he wants you closer. His hand sprawls on your back, pushing you against him, his neck aching from the angle, but he doesn’t care. The kiss deepens still, and your nails —

You tremble in his arms.

Hadrian jerks his head back.

"Where you goin'?" you croak, grinning, and chase after him, sucking his bottom lip between your lips and gently rolling it in your mouth.

He could die right here and do it happily, but against the voice screaming at him to warm you himself, Hadrian leans away again, this time holding your shoulders to keep you in place. "You need to get out of those clothes.”

You blink, then your eyes flicker to your feet. "Hadrian, you're usually not this forward."

"What?"

You bite your lip, peeking at him through your lashes, and realization sets in. "No," he stammers out, heat climbing up his neck. "No, I— I didn't mean it like… Uh. That."

You stare at him…. And then laugh.

Hadrian exhales, shaking off his nerves. And his disappointment, but he won’t voice that. “You know what I mean,” he says, moving his hands up and down your arms, trying to warm you. "You're shivering."

"You're wet too," you point out, resting your hand on his chest. Hadrian takes it and kisses the knuckles.

"But I'm not shaking," he teases. You flicker his nose, and Hadrian chuckles again.

"Where's your satchel?" he asks, regretfully stepping away from you to search for it. He needn't have asked; he can see it beside the bedside table. Hadrian pulls out a white tunic and dry socks, guessing that's what you sleep in. "Here," he says, giving it to you.

You look at his hand.

Hadrian holds it out, brows slowly falling. You look… troubled. Did he do something wrong?

Slowly, you grab the tunic and bring it to your chest. "Thank you, big man."

Hadrian nods and heads to the door. "I'll be downstairs," he says. The inn only had one available room, so Hadrian planned to sleep in the stables. "If you need anything, wake me up. Anytime time."

"Wait."

Hadrian stops by the door, looking over his shoulder.

You stand beside the fireplace, the glow behind outlining your body and shining like a giant halo. The tunic is clutched in your hands. "You don't have to leave—I don't mind changing in front of you, Hadrian."

You speak so softly that, at first, Hadrian thinks he misheard it. But then, you stand there, looking at him, and he realizes he didn't. He heard you right.

His ears immediately explode in flames.

This thing between you and him is still so new. He's kissed you and held you, and God, he thought about you naked countless times, but he never...

You set the tunic over the back of a chair, then slowly grab the ends of your shirt and raise it over your head. Stop, he wants to say, he tries to say, but the word dies in his throat. Hadrian can only gape at you.

• if female

Father Above.

Your smooth stomach, the gentle curve of your waist, and the delicate rise of your ribs. Hadrian's mouth goes dry when you reach behind, and your chest wrappings are coming undone. "No," he croaks, but even he doesn't hear it because, with a shy glance, you let the wrappings fall, and Hadrian sees your breasts for the first time.

He has no words. He has barely any thoughts.

His hands itch for you, begging him to step closer, but Hadrian stays planted on the floorboards, pupils blowing out the green in his eyes.

"I've wanted you to see me for a while." Your sweet, sweet voice caresses his ears. Hadrian knows he should look you in the eyes but can't look away from your body. Your breasts gently rise and fall with your breathing. He finds himself transfixed. He’s never done it before, but suddenly, Hadrian wants nothing more than to suckle one nipple into his mouth.

Father, forgive me.

Your hands fall to the rim of your pants. Hadrian's own trousers suddenly get tighter.

You wiggle out of your pants, not as gracefully as you probably wanted, because they stick to your legs. Still, soon enough, you're before him in only your smallclothes.

He feels your eyes on him, but again, Hadrian can't meet them. "Honestly, Hadrian, I... I've wanted you for a while," you whisper to him.

That does it. He can find the strength to move, and Hadrian can only move closer to you. The fire cracks a thick log, engulfing it in flames. Shadows move across your body, shifting your curves, plunging the rest of the room into shadow. Hadrian thinks you are an apparition.

He calls your name like a prayer and falls to his knees before you.

"Hadrian, get up," you say, but he doesn't hear it.

His hands shake when he lifts them to slowly, carefully touch you. You suck in your stomach when his fingertips graze you, and Hadrian moves his rough, impure hands across your sides, stopping below your ribs. He looks into your eyes and calls your name again. "You’re breathtaking."

"So are you," you say, your hand resting on the crown of his head.

Hadrian closes his eyes, fighting back tears, as he brings his head forward. Then, he kisses you beneath the belly button. You suck in another breath, and Hadrian's grasp on you tightens. "Father in Heaven," he prays, moving down.

Another kiss on your left hip, and then one other on your right.

He hears your breathing, mingling with his own, but strangely, Hadrian is calmer than he’s ever been when he’s with you.

He lowers his head and kisses right above the line of your panties.

Both hands now grab his hair. Hadrian glances up, sees you watching him and sends a last prayer to God before dragging his hands down your sides, past your hips, to hook onto your panties and, slowly, reverently, drag them down.

• if male

Father Above.

Your muscular chest, narrower hips, and the rise and fall of your ribs. Hadrian's mouth goes dry as he takes you in. You're so similar to him but completely different. Desire, unfamiliar and new, grows within Hadrian, spinning his head to the four winds.

His hands itch for you, begging him to step closer, but Hadrian stays planted on the floorboards, pupils blowing out the green in his eyes.

"I've wanted you to see me for a while." Your sweet, sweet voice caresses his ears. Hadrian knows he should look you in the eyes but can't look away from your body. He finds himself transfixed. He's never done it before, but suddenly, Hadrian wants nothing more than to suckle one nipple into his mouth.

Father, forgive me.

Your hands fall to the rim of your pants. Hadrian's own trousers suddenly get tighter.

You wiggle out of your pants, not as gracefully as you probably wanted, because they stick to your legs. Still, soon enough, you're before him in only your smallclothes.

He feels your eyes on him, but again, Hadrian can't meet them. "Honestly, Hadrian, I... I've wanted you for a while," you whisper to him.

That does it. He can find the strength to move, and Hadrian can only move closer to you. The fire cracks a thick log, engulfing it in flames. Shadows move across your body, plunging the rest of the room into shadow. Hadrian thinks you are an apparition.

He calls your name like a prayer and falls to his knees before you.

"Hadrian, get up," you say, but he doesn't hear it.

His hands shake when he lifts them to slowly, carefully touch you. You suck in your stomach when his fingertips graze you, and Hadrian moves his rough, impure hands across your sides, stopping below your ribs. He looks into your eyes and calls your name again. "You're breathtaking."

"So are you," you say, your hand resting on the crown of his head.

Hadrian closes his eyes, fighting back tears, as he brings his head forward. Then, he kisses you beneath the belly button. You suck in another breath, and Hadrian's grasp on you tightens. "Father in Heaven," he prays, moving down.

Another kiss on your left hip, and then one other on your right.

He hears your breathing, mingling with his own, but strangely, Hadrian is calmer than he’s ever been when next to you.

He lowers his head and kisses right above the line of your underwear.

Both hands now grab his hair. Hadrian glances up, sees you watching him and sends a last prayer to God before dragging his hands down your sides, past your hips, to hook onto your underwear and, slowly, reverently, drag them down.

- - -

"Through here."

Alessa follows your voice, feeling her way through the dark. Night haunts the world, moonless and starless, but the darkness that envelops her reminds Alessa of the ancient, deserted halls of the underground tomb.

A hand shoots out from the bottomless, crip-like twilight and holds her arm. "Here," you say, and then, there is light.

Alessa blinks, blinded by the orange glow of a dozen candles. She looks around and finds herself in a modest room, but it is clean, and there is her satchel. She turns to you as you close the door to the lodging room. "How many chambers are next to us?"

"None occupied," you say. "I made sure of that."

Alessa nods, eyes making another sweep of the room. A single bed, a mirror, and a small bedside table. "It shall do," she approves.

You nod, your usual stoic countenance relaxing just the slightest. You stand by the door with your back to it, and the candlelight shines in the whites of your eyes. As if sensing her staring, you turn your eyes to her, and Alessa quickly looks away.

It will not do to be caught admiring you.

She moves to the window and pretends to study it. "'Tis... high enough."

"Like you asked," you say, and then, Alessa almost jumps when you rest your hand on her shoulder. "Alessa, it's taken care of," you say, turning her to you. You lower your head, staring at her levely. "You can trust me."

She does not understand why your proximity is making her head lighter. "I— am not doubting your capabilities," Alessa says, lifting her chin. "I am only making sure."

"You're worrying," you say and give her one of your rare smiles. Alessa adores it, not only because it is scarce but because she has not seen you smiling this way to anyone else. And it... makes her feel like a softened fool. "All's in place. This is our hideaway if we ever need it. Mist isn't aware of it. I also made sure of that."

She exhales and tries to force herself to believe you. All is well. It will go well. "Thank you," she says, reluctantly reaching for your hand. You welcome her cold fingers, squeezing gently. "You have excelled yourself."

You press a kiss on her forehead, gone too soon. "It was your coin," you point out.

Alessa quirks her lips. "'Twas the Company," she says, delighting in your rumbling chuckle.

She lifts her head, wanting to kiss you, but you miss the signal and step away, back to business. Your axe shoots out from your shoulder, the heavy head swinging by your feet. Alessa sees you grazing your fingers along the pole. "You should change," you tell her, staring out the window. "That yellow blouse can be seen a mile away."

Alessa nods, swallowing down her disappointment. She walks to her satchel and pulls out a nondisclosed shirt. Alessa is not particularly fond of its cut, and the plain grey does not enhance her earrings, but it shall have to do. She looks at her pants and picks out a large skirt to replace them.  

Alessa turns around, clothes in hand, and stops when she sees you walking towards the door. "Where are you going?" she demands.

"I'll be outside," you say, and if your smiles are rare, the times Alessa has found you uncomfortable are even scarcer. You look from her to her feet, then frown at the door. "Take your time," you say, going to turn the knock.

Alessa speaks before she thinks. "You do not have to."

You halt.

"What do you mean?" you ask.

Alessa forces herself to hold your gaze, even as she feels her cheeks heating. "There is no need for you to leave the chamber."

You're still for a moment, and then you take a tentative step closer. "Alessa, are you sure? We haven't—"

"Naturally," she says, putting the clothes on the bed. "We are adults, are we not? There is no need for... ceremony." But why are her hands so stiff? Why does it feel significant?

'Tis only a body.

But those are your eyes, and she does not wish to see them dim in disappointment.

The thought jolts her. "I shall be quick," she says and turns away. True to her words, Alessa works efficiently. She unties her belt and pulls the blouse over her head in a swift move. She did not bother with chest-wrappings today, and as the cold air drifts across her bare skin, raising goosebumps along her spine, Alessa regrets it.

She cannot see your eyes, but she feels them burning the back of her head, and her heart is a deep drum against her ribcage. She's grabbing the cords of her pants when suddenly, Alessa hears your approach.

Her fingers stop, blue eyes shifting to the side.

You do not speak. She hears another footstep and feels your presence looming behind her. Alessa's bottom lip falls, and she hears herself breathing quicker. Control yourself.

But it is hard when the shadow of an arm moves on the bed before her, and fingers graze along her arm. Alessa sucks in a breath as the knuckles go down along her arm to her elbow, then rise again, slowly, tender.

She stays still when your other hand joins in. Your palm sprawls on her lower back, so warm and rough. Alessa bites her bottom lip when you drag it upward, following the curve of her spine and sending shivers all over her body. Her nipples tighten, and she has to bite her lip harder not to make some... undignified sound.

Your hand reaches the back of her neck, and then, slowly, you gather her hair and sweep it to the side, over her left shoulder. Your other hand lowers to her waist, barely touching, just resting there.

"Alessa," you whisper, and Alessa closes her eyes at the timber of your voice. It is deep and coarse, and she wants to see your face, but she cannot face you yet. She cannot move, trapped under your spell. "Is this alright?"

You put your chin on her bare shoulder, looking up at her.

Alessa nods.

Immediately, you lower your head and kiss her shoulder. She shivers when you drop another kiss to the spot next to it, coming closer to her neck with each kiss. You burn a path to her ear, then fall down again, aiming for her throat. Alessa gasps when you open your mouth and suck in her skin, your hand grabbing her waist firmly now. She feels your tongue twirling against her flesh, seeming to taste her, and her head falls back against your assault.

Fire spreads through her body, all-consuming, maddening. Alessa wants you desperately, but she cannot move, afraid she will break the spell. Terrified she will open her eyes and find you gone.

She sinks her nails in your hand, the one that's slowly rubbing her hip, her belly, joining hers on her pants. Your mouth is slowly tracing her jaw as your other hand rises up her ribcage and settles in the valley of her breasts. Alessa whines and turns her face to you, trying to hide it in your neck when you hold her boob in your palm and gently knead it.

It has been so long. So long since anyone has touched her.

You kiss her cheek, twirling her nipple between your fingers, and pull the cords of her pants. "Help me, beautiful," you rasp, kissing below her eye many times. Alessa realizes you're kissing her freckles.

With shaking fingers, she pulls the cords with you, and soon enough, her pants slide down her legs. Your hand engulfs her sex, and when Alessa's mouth opens in a moan, you drink it with your lips, kissing her like she's never been kissed before.

Alessa falls against you, and you catch her, as she never doubted you would.

"Let me see you," you beg between heated kisses, the desperation in your voice rising to her head. Alessa opens her eyes, emboldened, feeling indestructible, and steps away from your darling arms to turn towards you, as naked as the day she was born.

Your eyes are dark, lustful. Alessa rubs her legs together. You stand staring at her, tracking the freckles on her chest, her arms, and the plush flesh of her inner thighs.

Alessa finally manages to find her voice. "Now, 'tis your turn," she says, closing the distance to grab your shirt. "My darling one."