#murtagh x nasuada smut

[primasveraas-writing]

a night full of you

Murtagh has long been a weapon, a killer. With Nasuada, this all falls away.

Word count: 1027

Warnings: sexual content

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“I want this,” she reminded him, and who was Murtagh to deny her this or any wish?

Already, they had stripped their outer garments. Murtagh stood in only his breeches; Nasuada in a delicate chamise. His tunic and her dressing gown had been cast to the floor, long forgotten.

She kissed him again and the fire burned hotter inside his belly. Careful hands placed themselves on her hips;  her fingers tangled in his hair. She guided him, stepping back until they reached his bed. Nasuada lay with him, and once they were settled, he began to press kisses along her slender neck. 

But she parted from him a moment later. Looking him in the eye, she pulled the chamise over her head, leaving her body entirely bare before him. She did not drop her gaze, and Murtagh held her sight for a long second before allowing himself to look.

She was beautiful. Delicate, sloping curves of flesh, deep brown skin, angled and perfect; a magnificent sight entrusted to him alone. Still, her chin was raised as she watched him examine her, ever proud and unashamed.

“You are,” he said lowly, “the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

In response, she reached forward and tugged at his breeches. He obeyed, shifting to discard them. Unlike Nasuada, Murtagh found himself unable to face her as boldly as she did him. He was hard, his body flushed with anticipation, and he hardly trusted himself to move or speak again. His eyes were downcast; he couldn’t bear to meet her eyes.

She drew him closer, though, and laid down again. More kisses and exploring touches, skin against skin, lust and need and passion driving each motion. It was overwhelming. It was blissful. It wasn’t enough.

He looked at her, need mounting higher and higher, and she nodded. Murtagh could easily recognize the hunger in her eyes; it burned through his every nerve. Together, they moved, readying themselves.

Then, he trembled, bracing himself above her on his elbows. The space of a few inches was the only barrier between them now. Murtagh sucked in a breath, eyes flickering from a spot on the headboard, then to Nasuada’s eyes and back again.

But Nasuada was wordless as she reached between them, grasping him with a steady hand. The touch was white-hot against his skin, and he suppressed a moan. She guided him to her body and began enveloping him in a velvety heat.

This was better than before, but still not enough. It was a need to continue, to press deeper into her, but Murtagh remembered himself. Slower was better, for her pleasure and comfort alike. He dipped in and out again, shallow, delicate thrusts that went only a fraction of an inch further each time.

Nasuada made an impatient noise. “Please,” she said, trying to pivot her hips against him. Murtagh stilled.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered, and Nasuada answered him with a small smile before kissing him deeply, rolling her hips against his. He sank further into her and his mouth fell open.

“Ah,” he said. “Nasuada.” 

The name was as sacred as a prayer. He touched her again, fingers ghosting over her hips, her breasts. Each motion was painstakingly careful.

Those were words he’d never thought would describe himself- tender, soft, gentle- yet he resolves that was all he’d be with Nasuada. Reverent came to mind. He’d worship her, their bond, their trust, their connection. How many times had they professed their affection and trust to one another? How many times had they shown it? The instances were too many to count, but this shed their last vulnerabilities. This was an ultimate devotion to one another, after all they had endured at their own hands and from crueler outside forces.

They continued until he was fully sheathed inside her. He shook still, overwhelmed by the sensation, by the desire that sang through every part of him.

And then, together, they began to move.

Their bodies came together, flesh rolling against flesh, only sweat between them. It was jarringly different than bodies colliding on the battlefield; yes, it was primal and raw, sweaty, hungry, consuming- but this was not fear or hatred- these movements were all passion and love. 

Hands, which were callused and worn and drenched with blood, rubbed against her tender skin, coarse fingers circling her core, making her gasp with delight. Nerves and shame fell away; Murtagh lost himself in the scent of her, of them, of their pleasure and joining, in repetitive motions and endless kisses; to the feeling of lips on his neck and collarbone, skin against his skin, fingers pressing into his back and tugging on his hair. Nasuada cupped his face, her eyes meeting his. She smiled, a soft gentle thing. Murtagh echoed the expression, kissing the soft skin of her wrist just below her palm.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and turned them so that his back was now pressed against the mattress, sighing as she settled atop him. When he thrust up against her, she bit her lip and tilted her head back. He gripped her thigh, going deeper, and she cried out, again a noise of pure pleasure and joy. A sound, a circumstance, so different from long ago in the Hall of Soothsayer brought forth because of and for him.

His vision blurred, hot tears stinging his eyes. He gasped with the next ministration and the tears spilled over. Nasuada slowed, but Murtagh forced his eyes open, plastering a smile on his face once more. She softened upon meeting his gaze, understanding and compassion flowing between them.

“This is good,” she whispered, leaning down to kiss him. “Murtagh.”

“Thank you,” he managed, and meant it. Thank you for forgiving me. For trusting me. For allowing this connection, this intimacy. 

She shook her head. “I want this. The same way you do.”

And that was all that mattered. When they came apart later, holding each other and shuddering through it, all he could think of was her. Nasuada- he was drowning in her, in all this gentle conjoining, and he could not want for anything else.