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thenerdykneazle · 3 months ago

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To Hold

A Sequel to "Her Touch"

Summary: Ominis's wedding night with his new wife.

Ominis Gaunt x F!MC

Warnings: the mildest of hand kinks, kissing, a surprising amount of schoolwork, stressing about exams, failure to communicate

Word count: 6463

Ominis never got to see you walk down the aisle. He will never know just how radiant you looked in your dress or the expression that was on your face as you stood opposite him. He had never loathed his blindness more. He wanted to take in the sight of you and tell you how beautiful you looked and have it mean something – even if you assured him that it meant the world to you whenever he said you were beautiful.

Ominis would, however, always remember the feeling of your hands in his as you both said your vows. They were warm, soft, and sure as your fingers entwined with his. Kissing you for the first time as his wife had been dizzying – even though he had been unable to stop smiling long enough to do it properly. He remedied that when he finally brought you home, though.

He carried you across the threshold and down a well-memorised path to his bedroom – well, your shared bedroom now. In the preceding weeks, he had practised walking the route from the door to the bed hundreds of times without his wand guiding him. Sebastian had caught him at it once, and Ominis’s face was positively flaming as he tried to explain himself. It was worth it, though, because carrying you to the bed went flawlessly.

Ominis had got a good feel for your dress at the reception. He had been utterly incapable of keeping his hands off of you. He had felt how the gown lay tight to your waist before blooming into full skirts that fanned out into him as you danced together. He had played with the layers of ruffles on your elbow-length sleeves as you two made the rounds greeting your guests. He had even discovered the way the low neckline left your collar bones exposed. You ended up having to heal a mark he had left just above one of them after sneaking you away from the festivities for a few minutes.

After all that, Ominis felt he had fully appreciated the garment. Now he was eager to get it off you. First, though, he slipped off his shoes and sat behind you on the bed as he carefully helped you undo the intricate plaited chignon Natty had styled for you. When your hair finally fell loose around your shoulders, Ominis buried his fingers in the roots, massaging the tips of his fingers along your scalp.

You hummed with pleasure as you let your head fall back on his shoulder. “That feels exquisite, love,” you said.

Ominis kept one hand tangled in your hair while the other swept your locks back from your neck. He lowered his lips to the delicate skin and kissed a path from up near your jaw down to where your dress began on your shoulder.

“I assure you that you feel even better, darling,” he muttered against your skin before placing an open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder. “So soft.” He nuzzled into you. “So delicious.” He licked a slow line out until the sleeve of your dress stopped him.

You moaned softly, twisting your head to give him more space as he traced up the length of your neck with his tongue. Your skin was salty from the hours you had spent dancing and celebrating with your friends and family. Ominis felt like he could devour you as he sucked a mark into the skin behind your ear. He was determined to savour you, though.

You reached back to curl your fingers in his hair as Ominis nuzzled your jaw, trailing up and down it with the flat of his nose as he breathed you in. Another hum rumbled through your chest. Ominis wished he could capture the sound and replay it each night, letting the echo of your contentment lull him to sleep.

Bringing his free hand up to your jaw, Ominis turned your face to bring your lips to his. He moaned into your mouth as your lips interlocked. He continued to massage your scalp with the other hand before tugging the silky locks into his fist as he nipped hungrily at your bottom lip.

Ominis was confident about this part. He had done it with you often. Too often, probably, and it was only by some mercy of Merlin that he had made it to your wedding night without taking things too far.

You rested your hand on his thigh, and Ominis became keenly aware of how hard his heart was beating. You two had, as a rule, generally kept hands above the waist on each other – especially when kissing. Ominis had an additional pair of rather prominent restricted zones on you, whereas you had the benefit of being able to rest your hands on his chest whenever you liked.

Ominis had to be diligent about not letting his hands stray where they should not. Even resting one on your knee had become too tempting the stronger his affections for you had grown. That did not mean the odd slip never happened – though, not nearly as often as Ominis had wanted them to. Still, he was far from used to having the warmth of your hand so close to his more intimate parts. Your hand ran up and down the inside of his thigh, making more and more heat pool low in his abdomen with every upward stroke. His anticipation at feeling your hand on his length built to bursting.

He got so worked up he had to pull back to gasp in more oxygen before he fell faint. He rested his forehead on yours.

“I love you,” he said, breathing the words out onto your lips.

“I love you, too,” you confessed. Ominis could hear the earnestness in your voice, and it made his heart sing.

A smile broke out on his face. “I can’t believe you’re really my wife,” he said, damn near giddy. It was an odd feeling juxtaposed with the extent of his arousal, but it also felt right. You made him incomprehensibly happy. You also stoked desire in him until he teetered on the brink of madness. Your engagement – the longest months of his life to date – had him rapidly oscillating between both states. It was fitting that they should merge in this moment.

You lifted your hand to stroke your thumb over his cheek. “From now until forever,” you replied. Then, you teasingly added, “So, I hope you’re not having second thoughts.”

“Never,” he vowed earnestly before reconnecting your lips to seal it.

You shifted on the bed, twisting around to face Ominis until you suddenly fell into him with a yelp, knocking him back on the bed as his hands flew up to hold your arms steady.

“Are you all right?” he asked, both worried and confused.

“Yes, sorry. I just got a bit tangled up in these skirts,” you said, chuckling. “Could you, um, maybe help me out of my dress?”

Ominis felt his cheeks warm. For as excited as he was to get you out of your clothes, actually doing it somewhat terrified him. All of that was completely new for him. He had no experience to go off of, and he could not exactly learn from pictures. There was no one he would rather figure things out with, but he worried about being….well, bad at things.

You two had discussed things a few times after your engagement. Ominis had received a general education about sexual matters in his latter teens, but it had been more confusing than anything. After your engagement, you had taken the time to explain your anatomy to him: how it was structured and how it responded when you were aroused. It made a lot more sense than his previous instruction had.

He had gone into the talk rather mortified. He felt he ought to have already known more than he did – after all, you already knew the basics about him without needing him to elaborate. But you were patient with him, and he quickly discovered that discussing your body was rather erotic. You two broke the discussion up into several brief conversations to avoid them getting too heated.

Ominis had additionally been rather nervous about being physically disappointing. Again, he had no frame of reference for what was normal. He feared damning you to a life of dissatisfaction. You assured him that would not be a problem, but he was unconvinced. It culminated in him, with your consent, showing himself to you after you had been snogging in his – now your – living room.

“Oh,” you had gasped.

His whole face, neck, and chest had burst into flaming heat. You had not sounded disappointed, exactly, but it was far from the reaction he had expected. “What? What’s wrong?” he asked, panicked.

“Nothing!” you insisted quickly. “It’s just…much prettier than I’d expected.”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I want your honest opinion,” he said.

“I am being honest!” you replied defensively. “People talk about male anatomy rather disparagingly, and the illustrations aren’t exactly flattering. I just didn’t expect to find you so…aesthetic.”

Ominis felt on top of the world.

“I…” You cleared your throat. “You should probably put it away now.”

Ominis might have been embarrassed all over again if not for the fact that he could hear your arousal in your voice. He was very glad you knew what he looked like. Still, he had the good sense not to ask to feel you in return. There would have been no chance he kept control of his passions if he had.

Now, on your wedding night, he would finally get to feel you. Every inch of you.

Ominis stood from the bed and held a hand out to help you up, as well. He unlaced your gown, and he heard the rustle of the fabric as you stepped out of it. You stepped back in front of him in just a chemise. He could tell as his hands came to rest on your hips.

You helped him out of his robes in return. Then, you carefully removed his braces from the front of his trousers. Your hands grazed his lower abdomen as you unfastened the straps, sending heat pulsing through him. He had to fight the urge to abandon restraint as you began slowly, maddeningly unbuttoning his shirt.

Ominis let his hands roam up to your waist and over your ribs. He slid his left arm around your back while his right hand skated forward in a familiar path under your breasts. Then, it deviated from the usual course, instead traveling upward into previously forbidden terrain. His hand grazed the underside of your breast before gliding up the valley between them. He bit back a groan. Just your barest contours made him feverish. Your hands fisted into his unbuttoned shirt, signalling that he was not the only one affected by his exploration.

“Ominis,” you keened as his fingers stretched out across the centre of your chest and up toward your collar bones before dragging back down the plane of your sternum.

He needed to get you out of that chemise.

Ominis gripped the garment at your thighs, and you let him pull it over your head. His heart was pumping adrenaline through him now, burning desire coursing alongside it.

He shrugged off his shirt before pulling you to him, your bare chests pressed together as he kissed you breathless. He had never felt the heat of your skin sinking so deeply into him before. He felt like the two of you might very well melt into one at any moment. In a way, he supposed you already had when you vowed your lives – yourselves – to each other.

Ominis could not stand being apart from you any longer.

He walked you back toward the bed, laying you back properly before climbing in after you.

He hovered over you with his hands on either side of your head and one knee between your legs before he leant down to reconnect your lips.

His tongue teased yours as it surged desperately into his mouth. Your hands tangled in his hair, wrapping locks around your fingers, stinging his scalp once more as you scrambled for purchase. It was a pleasant sensation, heightened by your passion for him. You were arching up towards him, eager for every extra bit of connection you could gain. He found your desire for him addictive. He had never imagined someone would want him so fervently – and he had certain never thought it would be someone he so ardently yearned for himself.

You pulled back suddenly, and for a horrible moment Ominis feared he had hurt you.

“Wait. I want to see you,” you said, gripping the waistband of his trousers.

Ominis hesitated. “You can see me all at once, but it takes me time to feel things out. Let me catch up,” he said before nuzzling the tip of his nose against yours.

“I suppose that's fair,” you replied, though you did not seem wholly enthused by the idea.

Ominis chuckled. “Patience, love,” he said, shifting his weight onto one arm so he could run his free hand down your arm until he laced his fingers with yours. He brought your hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss against the back of it. “I’ll make it worth it.”

He was not sure where his sudden boldness had come from to make such promises. It had his desired effect, though, as you let out a soft, needy whimper.

Ominis raised your hand to his lips and kissed each of your knuckles in turn before opening your hand to kiss the pads of your fingers as well. He wanted to feel every part of you on his lips. When he reached your thumb, he took the whole of it into his mouth, pressing his tongue flat against it to taste you.

You let out a moan that made arousal jolt through him as your free hand reached up and grasped onto his other forearm as if to steady yourself. The muscles were already taught as it bared his weight, but he found himself tensing them further in response to your touch. Flexing, if he were honest with himself.

Sliding your thumb out slowly from his mouth, Ominis hummed in approval. Every part of you was so utterly perfect to him, down to the smallest of details. He kissed your wrist next before meticulously making his way up your arm, pouring his adoration into every reverent press of his lips on your silken skin. Again, he felt a spike of need urging him to ravish you. But, again, he resisted. He had implored you for patience, and he would exercise his own in kind.

As he continued his path upward, one of your hands gripped his shoulder, while the other tangled in his hair. You began to squirm as Ominis kissed across your collar bone. When he reached your throat, he switched tack and licked up it to your pulse underneath your jaw. You clung to him as he sucked against the delicate skin there.

“Oh,” you breathed out in a needy whine. It made Ominis throb with arousal, and he regretted not divesting himself of his trousers earlier.

Ignoring the constricting fabric, he began teasing his hand just under the swell of your breasts. He allowed himself to graze their edges as he passed beneath and between them. It was even more maddening to feel their curves without the fabric separating him from you. He was testing his own patience, trying to ease into things. Trying to make it good for you.

“Touch me, Ominis,” you begged, voice cracking and desperate as you continued to writhe under his attentions.

He groaned at the sound – at how much you needed him. He slid his hand up over the mound of your breast, filling his palm with the soft flesh. He squeezed, massaging his fingers into you as he felt the weight in his hand. So full. So supple. And now his.

Ominis withdrew his hand partially to allow the tips of his fingers tease your nipple, circling over it lightly until it stiffened under his touch. Ominis licked his lips before dipping his head on instinct, anchoring his hand on your waist as he leant down. He took the bud between his lips, letting his tongue flick out to meet it.

He moaned as he tasted you. Your breaths turned to quick pants, and your hand gripped tighter in his hair, making his scalp burn at the roots. But Ominis only grew more fervent as he suckled at your breast. He could have easily spent the whole night mapping each one out with his tongue.

Or he might have, anyway, until he caught the scent of your arousal. It was heady and sweet. He had caught hints of it on a few rare occasions after particularly heated snogging sessions. He had to fight hard in those moments to resist seeking out its source. It was intoxicating – arousing. Downright mesmerising. He would probably smell it in his amortentia.

The tension in Ominis’s neck strained as he forced himself not to immediately bury himself between your thighs. He rested his forehead on your breastbone as he panted from the effort of restraining himself. He groaned as your nails dragged across his scalp.

Your fist closed tight in his hair as his hand slid down your stomach to your core, his middle and ring fingers gently parting your folds. Your tender flesh was hot and slick on his fingers, and he could not help but think of how incredible you would feel on his cock. You moaned as he stoked languidly along your slit. Ominis pressed a kiss to your sternum in gratitude – he loved the noises you made for him. Only for him. He did not get to see you naked, but there were other aspects of you that would be his alone – the feeling of your breasts, your core, your skin; the scent and taste of your arousal; and the sounds of your pleasure.

“Gods, that feels so good!” you groaned.

“Yeah?” Ominis asked before he could stop himself. He cursed his insecurity. He should be confident. Assertive.

“Mhmm,” you assured him. Even that sounded needy, and it barely counted as a word.

“You feel divine, darling,” he told you. “You’re so wet for me. You’ve been as anxious for tonight as I have, haven’t you?”

You just whimpered in response.

Ominis shifted so he could lie pressed beside you as he continued his ministrations, mapping out your sex with each stroke. He felt along each of the soft inner lips you had described to him. He found your entrance, letting just the tip of his middle finger dip inside. It made your breath hitch, though Ominis was not totally sure if it was a good reaction or a bad one. Either way, he pulled back and continued up to the bundle of nerves at the apex of your centre. He rubbed light circles over it, gliding easily with the slick of your arousal.

Your hips arched up into his hand.

“Is this right?” he asked, wanting to ensure he was properly following the guidance you had given him in your discussions.

“Just a little to my left,” you replied breathily.

Ominis shifted his hand, and you gasped. Before he could ask if it was in pain or pleasure, you let out a wanton moan.

“Merlin,” you said, the word slipping out on your exhale.

Ominis could feel your body growing tense. He would have assumed he had done something wrong if he had not learnt from some of his own research that it was common as a woman’s body was increasingly stimulated. It made sense to him. His own body had done similarly on the occasions when he had touched himself, and Ominis felt a deep satisfaction that he was able to build the pleasure within you that way.

His own senses were being overwhelmed. The scent of your arousal was heavy in the air as he coaxed more of it from you with each pass over your swollen little bud. Your flesh was slick and velvety on his fingers. Your breathing had turned to panting, interrupted only by the whimpers and moans that escaped your lips, as your body wound tight with pleasure. He pressed his aching length against your thigh in a bid for some relief.

“I want you so badly, darling,” he admitted. “I want to be inside you. Fill you up with me.”

Your hips began to cant against his hand as your breaths became rapid. He wondered if you were imagining meeting his thrusts as he slid into you. He was certainly imagining it as he rutted against your thigh.

Ominis tried to kiss you, suddenly desperate for the contact, but his lips landed on your jaw becuase your head was turned aside. You quickly turned back to meet his lips, moaning into the kiss as he kept rubbing your clit – rather urgently now, in fact.

“Ominis! Oh! Don’t stop!” you panted as your thighs trembled. “S-so good! Gods, I love you! I–”

Your body began to spasm as the sound of your moans filled the room. Ominis’s desire hit a new peak as he both heard and felt your orgasm – one he had given you. Your body practically convulsed, down to the little muscles spasming under his fingers. He kissed you hard as he did his best to keep up his ministrations. He moaned as your tongue slid desperately into his mouth. Harsh puffs of air from your nostrils hit his cheek until you had to break the kiss to drag in deeper breaths, panting as you came down from your high.

“That was so beautiful, love,” Ominis said, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. He could feel your pulse racing.

“That was…You are…” you tried between gasps. “I love you.”

Ominis smiled against your collar bone. “I love you, too.”

Having caught your breath, you pulled him into a kiss. Your lips locked with his before beginning to wander across his face to every spot you knew he loved.

His ears were especially sensitive. Aside from his wand, they were his best way to take in information about the world beyond his immediate reach. He was protective of them, too. His governess had boxed his ears once, and he had collapsed to the ground in a sobbing heap. His mother had frequently dragged him around by them, unperturbed by his wails of pain. Ominis tensed up whenever someone else touched his ears. But you were always so gentle with them – with all of him, really. You trailed your tongue from the angle of his jaw up to lightly trace the edge of his earlobe. You grasped it delicately between your lips, and Ominis moaned out as you tugged it ever-so-slightly, sending a wave of pleasure through him like a burst of magic.

“I love when you moan for me, Ominis,” you said in a low voice.

The feeling was decidedly mutual. And hearing you say his name in that sultry tone – gods.

Your hand dragged down Ominis’s chest and over his abdomen, and his pulse quickened the lower you went. The light scratch of your nails against his skin sent gooseflesh pricking up across his torso and down his arms. All the while, your hand kept moving down toward the painfully tight bulge in his trousers. Ominis felt feverish with the need for you to touch him – and to touch you again.

You stilled just as the heel of your hand reached the top of his trousers. On the verge of combusting, his breaths came out in rough pants. He could not hold back his moan as your hand twisted around and down to cup over his erection. His own hand immediately found its way back to your centre, returning the favour.

Your palm was hot against him as you massaged him over his trousers, greatly relieving the ache that had been building as his body strained eagerly towards you. Even warmer was the heat of your folds as they moulded around his fingers. A cold sweat broke out on his neck as he imagined that warmth wrapped around his length. As he slid his middle finger into you, the fantasy became all the more vivid. You were hot and tight and–

“So wet for me,” Ominis muttered aloud.

You moaned in agreement as he pumped his finger languidly in and out of you. Your hand came up to clamp his shoulder as you rocked your hips in sync with his movements. Soon, your other hand began massaging him again. It was almost overwhelming to think of being inside you. He quickly began to have a very real fear that he was going to climax before he was even naked let alone making love to you.

It had happened once before, shortly after you had gotten engaged. He had walked you home after an evening at the Sallows’. He had gone inside for just a moment to bid you goodnight. He had placed a sweet, chaste kiss to your lips.

He could hear the smile in your voice as you said, “I can’t wait until we don’t have to say goodbye at night anymore.”

Ominis’s heart had filled to bursting. “Soon, darling,” he had promised.

You had stepped forwards and wrapped your arms around his middle as you rested your head on his shoulder. In a soft, sweet voice you said, “I’ll miss you.”

Ominis held you tight against him, savouring the fleeting moments of contact before he would have to leave. You nuzzled into his neck, the tip of your nose grazing the sensitive spot under his ear. His blood had begun to heat, having your body pressed to his and your breath fanning over his neck as you clung to him. He tilted his head down and found your lips, just brushing his against them as he knew stealing another kiss would be asking for trouble. His resolve crumbled almost instantly when you tilted up to meet him, and he captured your lips in a heated kiss.

The kiss quickly turned to snogging, which resulted in pinning you back against the door he should have long-since left through. One of your hands tangled in his hair as the other traced along his collar bones, which made him realise you had undone the top button of his shirt somehow. Only your shoulder blades touched the door as you arched into him. One of Ominis’s hands wandered down from your hip to grasp your bum and pull your hips further into his own.

He felt feral – utterly out of control – as he rutted against you while snogging you against a door. The pressure and friction clouded his mind in a haze of lust. It was ecstasy. He knew it was wrong. Gods, he knew your parents were sleeping a floor away and liable to catch the two of you. But he could not stop. Not when you seemed just as eager as he was. Not when you held him close and moaned and rocked against him in equal measure. Not when sparks of pleasure zipped up with spine at every thrust, every moan, every tug of his hair.

Keeping his grip on your round bum, his other hand had wandered up your ribs until his thumb could swipe along them just under your bust. Your breath hitched at the contact. When he – probably accidentally – grazed the underside of your breast, another moan escaped your lips. Ominis took the liberty of sliding his hand up to grasp you fully, and he was rewarded with your increased fervour as you canted your hips against him. He could feel through the scant layers of your casual dress, that his length was at your centre. You were utterly lost in the pleasure of him, and Ominis was in you, as well.

Declarations began to spill from your lips.

“I love you.”

“You feel so good.”

“Gods, I love to feel you against me.”

In turn, Ominis professed his own love, praised your curves, and revelled in the feeling of you. Hearing your words of praise made his actions all the more desperate. He knew he would be touching himself to the thought of them as soon as he got home. Or, he would have, if you had not said what you did next.

“Merlin, Ominis! I want to feel you inside me. I want to make love to you.”

Having already been teetering close to the edge, your words pushed him over. His orgasm crashed into him like running into a brick wall, knocking the air from his lungs as it caught him off guard. His muscles grew rigid as he continued thrusting against you, pulse after pulse releasing from him in vain within the confines of his trousers.

When the blinding pleasure faded, the shame and mortification quickly replaced it. He immediately started stammering an apology. You assured him that you were not upset. Further, you claimed to find it arousing. Though, with the haze of lust sufficiently broken, you both agreed it would be for the best that you did not carry on any further. Ominis was still embarrassed, but a shred of his dignity was retained with your gracious response to the situation.

He went on to recall your words every occasion he touched himself, and he found them no less effective than they had been that night. Having you want him was a high better than he could imagine any potion giving him.

Now, on your wedding night and with his desire for you overwhelming him, he worried the same might happen again.

“I think I’ve been very patient,” you said, voice husky, as your fingers traced the outline of him straining against his placket. “Gods, I want to see you. I want to lie with my husband.”

Even if Ominis would have had objections, they would not have stood a chance against that. He could not stop the groan that ripped from his chest. Though, fortunately, he was able to hold off his climax.

He kissed you firmly before agreeing that he was ready. After, rather regretfully, sliding his finger back out of you, he stood up to rip down his trousers and undergarments. Quickly rejoining you in bed, he covered your body with his own, kissing your neck as your heat sank into his skin. He relished the feeling of your body on his, free of barriers. It felt intimate even without the upcoming union of your bodies. It felt right being together, uninhibited. Like you both were made for it.

Ominis’s breath hitch when you reached between your bodies to take hold of him. He was flooded with desire as you slid your hand up and down his length. He already felt like he would die if you ever stopped touching him, and then you whispered a lubrication charm that multiplied his pleasure. That sent him into a state of utter bliss that had your name tumbling from his lips.

“Ready, love?” you asked.

That was a loaded question. Ominis was beyond ready. He had wanted you so badly for so long, and it only got worse each day he fell more in love with you. But he was also terrified – of hurting you, of disappointing you, of embarrassing himself. In that sense, he would never be ready. But with his wife underneath him, stroking him into delirium, there was nothing he wanted more than to make love to you.

“As long as you are, darling,” Ominis replied, trying to keep the nerves out of his voice.

“Gods, yes!” you groaned out in a breathy tone. “Ominis, please…”

He did not need further encouragement. After replacing your hold on him, he lined himself up at your entrance with only a slight readjustment needed. He edged forward cautiously, feeling the strain of his control. A part of him desperately wanted to ravage you – a part ruled by carnal desire that had long whispered in his ear to toss propriety aside and throw you into his bed. In truth, he was fairly certain he would give in to his baser instincts one day, but not this day. It would be a future day when both of you had the experience to experiment safely. Right now, he needed restraint. He wanted to be close and make love to you and make you feel good.

Ominis shuddered as his head sank into the warmth of your core. Slowly, he pressed deeper and deeper until he was fully sheathed within you.

It was better than he had expected. Better than he had imagined. He felt your muscles contract around him, squeezing with a maddening pressure that made him want to promise you anything as long as you let him stay inside you.

You let out a sharp breath.

A bolt of panic shot up Ominis’s spine. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” you assured him, seeming sincere. “I just…I feel so full.”

“Sorry,” he replied reflexively.

“No,” you said. “It’s good, but…I…could you move?”

Ominis was about to ask where you wanted him to move to when he caught your meaning. He had been motionless, just buried inside you – you needed him to move. He withdrew carefully before sliding back inside.

A truly obscene moan left your lips, and sweat began to bead on Ominis’s back as he held himself steady. He repeated the motions, setting a gentle rhythm pumping into you. Every press inside brought the sweet embrace of your walls around him. Every pull back created a glorious friction as your body clung to him like it was fighting to keep you two joined together.

Ominis rested his forehead on yours. “You feel incredible, darling.”

You whimpered at his words before capturing his lips in a kiss.

Gods, he wanted to come. The thought of spilling inside you was doing nothing to help him avoid doing so prematurely.

You began to meet his thrusts, and Ominis increased his pace incrementally. You were panting and moaning underneath him while your centre pulsed once around him. He thought of the spasm of your muscles under his fingertips and was filled with a sudden urge to feel you orgasm around him. It had always been his goal, however lofty it seemed, to have you climax first. He wanted this to be good for you. He wanted to pleasure you. But now he was doubly motivated as he craved the sensation of your muscles pulsing around him over and over.

Shifting his weight onto his left arm, Ominis freed his right hand to stimulate you. He made steady circles around your clitoris with his thumb. You lost sync with his thrusts as your legs trembled in response. Ominis’s teeth sank into his lip as he tried to stem his own arousal at making you lose control that way. You were a fearsome warrior – able to command a whole battlefield with ease – and yet under his touch you ceded authority over yourself.

You were practically writhing. “Fuck, j-just like that!”

The smell of sex was heavy in the air, a mix of sweat and arousal. Ominis could taste the salt on your skin as he trailed open-mouthed kisses across your collar bone. Your nails scraped down his back as you clung to him. He could feel your muscles drawing tight as you edged closer and closer to your breaking point. He felt his own pressure within, building higher and higher until he felt like he was trying to hold back an explosion. His bollocks felt heavy even as they drew tight to his body. His length throbbed with need, too swollen to be sustainable for long.

He moaned out your name. He was losing coherence with every thrust as he fought to hold back. His face was buried in the crook of your neck, his heavy breaths panting across your sweat-slicked skin. The muscles in his neck were strained tight and threatened to snap. “Please,” he begged. “Please, come for me. I need to feel it, darling. Please. You feel so good. Want you to feel good. I can’t–I’m so close. Please.”

Somewhere on the edge of his consciousness, Ominis realised you had stopped breathing. You had drawn so tight it was difficult to keep thrusting back inside. The vice-grip as he buried into you was a siren coaxing his release. Blinding pleasure was just a moment away if he let himself succumb. But he held on. And it was well worth it.

Your breaths came out in rapid, staccato puffs as Ominis felt you contract around him. Waves seemed to pulse down your whole body as shudders wracked through you. Your cries of ecstasy, even more than being buried in you, shattered the mental dam he had built to contain his own release. You were falling apart under his touch. You were in rapture because of him, and you were so beautiful when you hit your peak. Your pleasure seemed to multiply his own, and it overwhelmed him as each of his thrusts was paired with a throb of his length that spilled more of him inside of you.

He rode out both of your highs until the fog of his mind began to clear and the exhaustion set in. He kissed you passionately – in love, in thanks, in reverence – before peppering kisses across your cheeks, nose, eyelids, shoulders – wherever he could reach. Your hands stroked lightly up and down the length of his back, soothing the abrasions your nails had left. Only after his body had calmed down enough for his length to go soft, he finally pulled out.

Ominis collapsed to his side before wrapping you up in his arms. You wiggled to fit your back against his chest, aligning your bodies until there was not even an inch of space left between you. He pressed kisses into your shoulder as he held you tighter to him. With his arm wedged underneath you, his hand slid down until his palm rested flush to you, low on your abdomen. His other hand slid down your arm until his fingers laced with yours as he entwined your legs too, seeking to unite your bodies in as close an approximation of the intimacy he had just experienced with you as he could manage. You exchanged whispers of your love for each other, and it was not long before sleep claimed Ominis as he lay entangled with his wife – the woman who had stolen his heart with just a simple touch, and who he now got to hold for the rest of his days.

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