#it is v self-indulgent but hopefully also you-indulgent as my fellow jaheira lover :P

[blackjackkent]

Hah, well, my usual two pairings plus the standard wildcard! Whichever strikes your fancy.

Hector/Karlach - "Oh, shut up." "You shut up." "Make me." "Okay, but you might moan a little."

Jaheira/Rasaad - "Shh... just a little bit more."

Shadowheart/Lae'zel - "Let me ruin you."

(Spicy Romance Prompts)

Jaheira/Rasaad - "Shh… just a little bit more."

Y'know, for some reason I was originally not going to try to mess with Jaheira/Rasaad smut until I got further along in Open Your Eyes, but I've been working on the next chapter outline and rotating them in my head a lot and got to feeling inspired. XD So here we go.

NSFW warning. XD

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Rasaad’s eyes grow very dark when he makes love to her.

Even by the light of day, his eyes are the most striking thing about him, deep and black, glittering like gemstones. Onyx, Jaheira often thinks, recalling crystals she has plucked from caves deep in Faerun’s heart, crystals forged by time and pressure, steady and slow. 

But when they are alone, when he is bared to her in both body and spirit, then the chaos and heat within him slips the bounds of his iron self-control. Then the onyx becomes obsidian, volcanic glass, gleaming with the light of a contained inferno.

And it thrills her in a way she cannot describe. Love, desire, yes - but also perhaps there is a part of her that thrives on taming a hurricane.

“Jaheira…” He groans out her name, a soft catch on the last syllable. He's stretched beneath her on the bed, looking up at her with those obsidian eyes. His hips arch up into her hungrily, and she meets and rolls with the motion, keeping his wrists pinned tight next to his head.

“So eager, monk,” she murmurs, her eyes narrowing teasingly. “Where is your patience?”

He strains his hands upward against her weight. “You drive me to distraction… to madness…” he growls throatily. “I feel how you want me as well…”

He is right, of course. Her pulse is thundering in her throat and between her legs as she straddles him and feels him stiff against the inside of her thigh. Yes, she wants him. He is safety and home and fierce heat, found at last after so much loss and loneliness. Though she teases him, he knows full well that he could have her for the taking if he wished. He lets her hold him back for the same reason she holds him - because to draw the moment to its breaking point makes it all the more satisfying when it… snaps…

“Shh…” she whispers. “Calm… just a little bit more…” She dips her head and kisses him and feels his teeth score along her lower lip, so eagerly does he tip his head up to meet hers. The soft whimper he makes into her mouth sends a shiver of pleasure down her spine.

“You torment me…” He rolls his head back, his eyes half-closed. His breath quickens as she moves her lips under his jaw, sucking at the pulse point there.

“Yes,” she agrees, and a wicked smile tugs at her lips. She releases one of his hands, slides her own between them, down, gripping him with a sudden swift stroke. 

His eyes snap open, black pits now with the pupils blown wide. “Gods…” he breathes. “Jaheira… please…” His hips buck up sharply into her hand, thrusting along her palm, hungry, searching. 

She lets the moment hang just a little longer, to listen to the way his breath drags in his throat with a low whine. Then she guides him - up, in, fitting their bodies together, the heat of him flowing into her.

“Take me, then,” she commands, and lets go of his wrist.

Suddenly all of him is moving at once, like a dog strained at the leash suddenly released. He growls, deep in his throat, and rolls sharply to push her beneath him, arching as he does so into a jolting thrust that jerks her a few inches up the bed. She cries out and wraps her arms around him, digging her fingertips into his back.

He does not stop, and she doesn’t want him to. The rhythm he sets is hungry and rough and she glories in it, a hawk riding the updrafts of his storm. Closing her eyes, she clings to him and surrenders to sensation blotting out everything else.

“Take me…” she whispers again, disjointedly, breathless. “Take-- Rasaad-- ahhh--”

“Jaheira… my sun…” His voice is muffled, his face buried in her shoulder. One of his arms cradles her hips; the other hand is buried in her hair, his fingertips tight on the back of her neck. “I love you… do not let me go…”

He’s moving faster now, pressing her down into the bed with weight and passion. There is no sense left of any restraint; they are both free and wild and for a moment she can think about nothing at all except the feeling of his skin and the pleasure boiling in her core. And when it breaks, it does so suddenly, rocking her from head to foot as she rides from one jolt to the next, crying out against his ear and riding up against him as if to somehow take him deeper, feel him more.

He moans, a soft ragged sound of desire, and then his movement shudders to an abrupt halt with one last, jolting thrust, and she feels his whole body twitch with the release. He is never loud, but she can feel the way he curls into her, the way his breath hitches and his hips rock, and then the slow relaxation, the muscles of his back unclenching under her fingers.

He lifts his head, his eyes meeting hers. His gaze is settled again, calm onyx, glowing rather than blazing. “Jaheira…” he whispers. Rolling his weight onto one elbow, he cups her cheek with his other palm.

“I’m here…” She moves one hand to stroke gently against the back of his head. “Howling hells… you complain that I tease you, and yet you make it so worth the waiting for…”

His face drops back into her shoulder and he laughs, low and warm. “I did not say you should stop…”