Characters/Pairings: Gwen/Arthur, implied Uther & Morgana
Genre/Rating: NC-17, smuttyness with a dollop of fluff
Spoilers/Warnings: If you've not seen series 3 ep 10, this fic shall make little sense.
Summary: Arthur and Gwen got up to a little more than conversation and snogging on their picnic...
Author's Notes: aaaages ago anjali_organna wrote about how she thought Arthur & Gwen's demeanour before they were caught by Uther and Morgana looked possibly a bit like pillow talk.
So then I wrote this! This is what happened, pre-pillow talk. Anjali ♥ has kindly
By this point, Arthur was fairly certain he knew his way around Gwen's mouth.
If he slipped his tongue across her teeth until - yes, just there, where she would start at some ticklish or overly sensitive spot and thrust her tongue to tangle with his.
Then, if he stroked across the roof of her mouth - just so. Her fingers twisted and tugged in his hair.
Her lips would press tightly to his if he made to move away, and he had memorized the weight of her bottom lip pinched between his teeth, and the way her panting billowed up his cheek when he tugged.
Which was all, without exaggeration, intoxicating. And therefore also quite a perfect tease.
He was being greedy but he wanted to know more. And he certainly wanted to be the cause of more of those deep noises from the back of her throat.
Arthur sent his hand to her nape, fingers pressing assurance as he broke away, quickly pressing his mouth to the underside of her jaw. Immediately, Gwen's throat was bared to him as she arched a little, a quiet gasp escaping her lips and he smiled into her skin.
He flicked his tongue against her pulsepoint, rather enjoying the way her fingers tightened before he went to move down.
"What are you doing?" she panted, and for all their conversing that afternoon, Arthur felt that in this, given half a chance, he was in his prime.
"I am curious," he murmured, sneaking down a little further, tipping his head so his fringe would tickle across her throat as he nibbled along her collarbone. "About the rest of you."
He had intended that to be... suggestive, but to limit his exploration to her chest. He wanted her pleased, not terrified. And realistically, he wasn't sure he wanted to know everything yet. But then, he was a little hazy; her mouth had tasted of wine and tomato and her hands were more insistent and persistent than he had expected...
Although, given the way she had leaned across and kissed him, hard, an obvious possession that took his breath - though never would he admit it - perhaps he should have expected her to know how to take control.
Which was why it was now his turn.
But as he inched lower, just reaching the rise of her breasts, Guinevere's legs fell apart, allowing him to settle between her thighs. The pace he had set faltered, then froze and there was thunder beneath his mouth as her heart started to pound.
They were still for a moment, implications and reservations chasing themselves in circles in his mind before Gwen whispered, "Um," and made as though to shift.
But Arthur found his hand on her thigh, holding her still. "No, don't... Have you done this before?" he wasn't even entirely sure what the this was that he was asking about.
He raised his head as she propped herself up, eyes wide, brow furrowed slightly. "Not everything," she said, more firm. Arthur was surprised to find it incredibly arousing how unabashed Gwen was as she continued, "But... With hands and mouths, yes."
There was a faint and familiar constriction somewhere low in his belly and Arthur swallowed. Then cleared his throat. "I see," he managed, because his mind was with the possible writhe of her body as his tongue moved inside her.
"And you...?" she asked, now a bit breathless.
"Yes," he said. One syllable. Easy.
They were still, watching one another. Then Gwen swallowed, and her leg moved, half wrapping around his backside. Her breasts bumped his chin as she drew a heavy breath and Arthur cleared his throat, coming to a decision.
He enjoyed how wide her eyes got, how blown out her pupils became as he continued his downward slide across her body. Her leg against his back was almost too much, and when his face was positioned above her centre, he could smell her arousal through the layers of her skirt and underpants.
"May I -
"Yes," Gwen interrupted, still propped up on her elbows, her fingers fiddling with the fabric at her hips.
Arthur shook his head in a vain attempt at regaining clarity. "Do you want me to?" he persisted.
Her tongue smoothed across her lips as she considered, then vanished back in her mouth as she said again, "Yes."
It was something of a blur, and Arthur quickly found himself under her skirt. Her thighs were hot on either side of his head, the skin so smooth he couldn't help but press his mouth, slip his tongue, nip his teeth. With each, Gwen twitched or jumped and he imagined the heat and wetness of her core pulsing at each.
"My, my, Guinevere," he breathed when he found her. She appeared bronze beneath her skirt, her folds already damp and open.
Her answer was slow, and he could hear her breathing out slowly as he blew against her. "What?"
He moved up, then ran his tongue slowly along her outer lips. She trembled and he closed his eyes. "Do you frequently leave your underpants off?" he asked, voice ragged.
"Ah," she said, and laughed breathily so that it somehow seemed to surround him. "I knew I forgot something when I was getting ready."
"Bless your memory," he muttered, then pressed his mouth to her.
Arthur swept his tongue the length of her slit, then gently probed for her opening. It had been months, years, since he had last tasted a woman, but he was certain he had never known any woman tighter than Guinevere. She was sodden heat and close on his tongue so he could do little more than thrust into her, but given how she was quickly meeting him, soft moans muffled above him, she had few complaints.
He drew back, taking a moment to lick his lips as clean as could be before he applied his mouth again. Suckling, gently nibbling upwards until he found the bud of nerves and she arched into him with a muted cry.
Her legs rose, granting him better purchase and Arthur took advantage. He slipped his arms up and under her thighs, circling the junction between torso and leg. Then he surged forward, nearly burying himself into her folds as she began to tremble, gasped half-words and syllables above his head. He suckled and flicked with his tongue until her fingers scrabbled at his head through her dress.
"Arthur - ah!"
He murmured some response, which set a muscle in her thigh ticking, her toes pressing into his back as she writhed. Arthur's hands had been busy, gently stroking and he made a swift shift - his tongue to probe, his fingers to massage.
He matched each thrust of his tongue or gentle nibble of his teeth with a soft rub or pinch at her clit. His lips would be bruised as she pressed roughly onto him, but she was so loud with his name stuttered between keens and pleas for him not to stop that Arthur hardly cared.
When she became frantic in movement and cries, Arthur sucked hard, fingers pinching tighter and Gwen arched, her whole body twitching against him as he lapped at her to keep up, massaging as she rose through the pleasure.
Arthur nuzzled his nose into her thigh when she settled, taking a little perverse pleasure in the sounds made as his fingers moved from the wet heat of her, his hands sliding from beneath her back.
He wiped much of the slick from his chin and nose and mouth on her dress before kissing her knee and trying to reemerge from under her skirts in a dignified way.
He blinked against the sunlight to find Gwen was biting her bottom lip as she smiled sleepily at him. Arthur had never seen her dopey. He appreciated it. Greatly.
"Arthur," she murmured, his name an invitation like he hadn't heard it before as her fingers reached out to him. He settled across her as the fingers from her outstretched hand slipped across his forehead and into his hair; liking how her chin tilted to meet him, how her other hand smoothed a little clumsily down his back.
They kissed a while, lazily. He hadn't learned these kisses, and so didn't mind. There was no edge to Gwen's mouth against his any longer and she seemed content to receive and reciprocate in equal measure.
His trousers were loose again by the time Gwen's hands moved to cup his face and Arthur sighed into her mouth. There would be time enough for Gwen to tug him off as the afternoon progressed and he had no doubt she would. Arthur had never been with a woman he loved before, but he thought he was beginning to understand a bit better.
"Give and take," he murmured, mouthing his way along her jaw as she massaged his scalp ceaselessly.
"Hmm?" she breathed, right into his ear. A thrill raced down his spine.
"Nothing," Arthur said, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her easily over him as he rolled onto his back.
He laid back, and stared at the canopy of trees. The conversation had been idle, but silence had fallen and Arthur had a feeling that if he glanced at Gwen, she would be watching him. It made him smile despite himself.
"We should be heading back to Camelot soon," she said softly, when he finally did look over.
"We can stay a while longer," he responded, noticing for the first time how low the sun was. It played golden across her cheeks and eyelashes. "Who knows when we can do this again?"
"Perhaps when you become a farmer," she teased, eyes bright. "We can be together more often."
Arthur smiled, Cheeky... "That's just a dream," he said gently. And, turning back to her, "I fear I will never leave Camelot..." Feigning sudden focus, Arthur husked, "Stay still."
Gwen's expression changed instantly. It was almost so easy as to be cruel. He bit his tongue as she whispered, "Is it bandits?"
Rising, reaching behind him, Arthur held his expression steady, eyes focused on a tree over her shoulder. His hand came down on his glove, and he rolled, swatted across her, grinned like a fool at her gasp and said, "A wasp," as he settled back down, pleased with himself.
Scandal, then a smile and she shifted closer to him. Then above him, with her hand across his stomach as her mouth met his, still smiling.
They kissed and kissed, and it was her tongue exploring his mouth and then it was her fingers flexing across his abdomen, tips inching slowly... slowly... down...
That edge was back behind her kisses. He moved, experimentally, to stroke across the roof of her mouth but her lips closed over this tongue and a sound like scolding came from the back of her throat. Arthur chuckled.
Arthur thought he heard something like the pounding of hooves.
He also thought about lifting his hand to hold the back of her head.
And about how she was masterful, fingers drumming a discordant tattoo at his waist as her tongue slipped over his -
Hooves thundered, reigns jangled and Gwen was vanished from above him with a gasp that set him jolting upwards.