Allura pulled the curtains closed, humming under her breath. The Altean dusk outside was turning pinkish as night increasingly fell to blanket the royal castle, interrupted only by the sporadic glow of wormholes as they opened and blinked shut, here and there, in the higher atmosphere.
Everything was as it should have been. She was alive again, and her people were happy, the universe actively bustling around the three central points of Altea, Daibazaal, and Earth. Her son was staying elsewhere for the night.
And her husband was fully bare, kneeling on their bed on his hands and knees, the sight for her eyes alone. She smiled.
“Allura,” Lance breathed, his chest rising and falling.
“Are you cold?” she asked. She had lowered the temperature in their room a little, because she enjoyed the way his skin and nipples pebbled when he was chilled. He was so very responsive.
His head tilted to her a little, but otherwise he did not move. “No…”
“I see. Then perhaps I should go—“
“Don’t,” Lance said; his hands curled into fists against the sheets. “Allura—“
“Well, you have been good,” she said, lips quirking at the way Lance’s shoulders twitched at her words. Oh, but he was so eager to do anything for her, just to be praised. “I wonder…”
She sat on the edge of the bed, to his left, and gave herself a moment to look. He had broadened well with age, well-formed shoulders tapering to a slim waist. His legs had always been long; she admired the way smooth, brown skin, lighter than the more tanned skin below his knees, covered the shifting of his thighs. By now, his Human ears were endearing; his features, in whole, were beautiful to her.
Allura wanted to say it, and so she did. “Beautiful.”
Years past, Lance might have argued with her. But living on Altea for this long must have given him an understanding of Altean aesthetics, because he did nothing but tremble minutely under her gaze. To Alteans, beautiful things and people were simply beautiful, ideal to their intended form and function; gender played no role in the matter.
“Hm,” Allura said, and touched him.
Despite the chilled air, the back of his neck was hot under her fingertips. Eager, she thought, smiling, as she ran her hands along the tops of his shoulders. There were marks here and there; none of them were without scars. And there was the injury he had received not long after they had first met, a patch of dimpled scarring high on his back not fully healed by the pods. She bent to kiss it, dragging one hand lightly down Lance’s left flank, and felt him exhale.
“You have been very good,” she said again. “What should I give you for it?”
He dropped his head lower, continuing their game. “You’ve got me here like this for a reason, Princess. You know.”
Allura shifted to trace the muscle trailing from his inner thigh. “Oh, but I would like to hear you say it to me.”
His answer was a sigh, knees sliding further apart on the sheets.
“Lance,” she prompted.
“You in me,” he whispered. “That’s what I want.”
She stood and shed her dressing gown, leaving her naked.
“Yes. I believe I will give you that.”
His body radiated heat as she climbed up on the bed behind him, clasping the jut of his thin hips in her hands and pressing her breasts to his back. They rocked together like that for a moment, his body straining to keep still under hers; she hid a grin in the way she gently bit at the skin on his shoulder blade.
“Allura,” he pleaded. “Please.”
“Shh,” she responded. “Be good, and you’ll get what you want, Paladin.”
Sitting back on her heels, she mentally gathered up any hint of nervousness she could find within her and shut it firmly away. This was the first time they were doing this, and she was determined to do it well for him. He spent so much time worrying for her that she wanted tonight to be transcendent—for him to forgo thinking at all.
“What should I start with?” she asked. Even as she did, she lightly touched his neck, his waist, the back of his knee, all of it, she knew, not enough for him.
“Be specific, Lance,” Allura said, letting the ends of her hair brush against him. “Where should I touch you? Here?” She licked the shell of his ear, feeling him shudder. “Here might be too soon.” A hint of a fingernail to the side of his cock garnered her a startled moan. Her hand moved slowly down the center of his back, to his tailbone and lower. “Here, perhaps?” They had prepared him well, and her finger nearly slipped in when she moved it up and down the slick skin between his cheeks.
“You know where… c’mon, Allura.”
Despite his begging, he was still under her hands. Desperate, but still. Still trying to be good.
“Breathe,” she told him, and pressed in with her finger without pause, in a steady, merciless intrusion.
He was hot on the inside, and she too felt like she was on fire. They had both begun to sweat, her Altean skin less than his Human, gliding against each other; Allura shuddered a little at the quickening pace of his breath as she planted her left hand on the bed and rhythmically moved her right, in and out.
He took one finger so well, and the next was a tighter fit, making made him moan. She crooked her fingers within him and stretched them wide apart, massaged what she could reach—
“Allura!” His cry broke the silence.
“Oh,” she groaned, bending forward atop him to tuck her face alongside his, even as her hand continued to work. “Very good.” She kissed him in the Human fashion, stealing his breath with her open mouth and tongue, relishing how one of his legs kicked out between the spread of her own against the sensations being created by the constant press of her fingers.
After a moment the twitch of his hips began to take on a familiar cadence: that of approaching completion. She tore her mouth away, and slid her fingers out of his heat, circling his cock and gripping hard.
“Not yet, husband,” she said, turning his jaw towards her. “There’s something more you want, isn’t there? You said it before.”
Lance’s eyes were wide, black Human pupils dilating to leave only a thin blue ring. Beneath his sweat-slicked skin, his Adam’s apple worked against the press of her palm. She felt powerful. Not because of her Altean strength, or her alchemy, or her role as a Paladin, but because she was herself, and he loved her.
Allura wanted to show him how she felt.
“Should I, then? Do what you asked,” she breathed into his skin. “Perhaps you’ve earned it. Let me see if I can give you what you want.”
It wasn’t necessarily hard what she was planning to do, though the skill was typically unique to powerful Altean alchemists alone. She took her hand off of him and ran it down her own neck, past her heavy breasts and down her stomach, to where she had been ignoring the growing pressure at her core. She was sopping wet. Her fingers dipped in for a second, before she slipped them back out and screwed her eyes tight, and concentrated.
With some effort, she felt as her clitoris grew and expanded outwards, forming into a slick phallus heavy between her legs and overly sensitive to the air. “Oh,” she gasped. “Oh, goodness.“ It begged for touch, and she moved forward, letting it drag across the back of Lance’s thighs.
“Oh, god,” Lance groaned. “Is that—?“
“Yes,” she answered. “Lance—“
“Yeah, c’mon, c’mon , do it—“
Allura tried to regain her composure and failed. She took herself in hand, moaning at the feeling—how did people live like this, all their nerves exposed?—and pressed herself to Lance. He bucked his hips back, and she gripped at his hips warningly: do not move. He stilled, and she pushed forward.
His rim stretched around her. She watched in fascination, marveling at how the skin pulled tight, thumbing at it, moaning as his heat surrounded her more and more. Was this how he felt every time he pressed into her? She felt like she could understood the rapture that overtook his face in those moments, now. The urge to press deeper, as far as she could go, was irresistible.
She switched her gaze to his face. His eyes were squinched tight, lashes flat against his cheeks, brows furrowed and jumping with her every push of her hips. His mouth opened in a gasp for air.
“How does it feel? Lance, tell me,” she said, grinding deeper with every little push, the space between their bodies closing until she came to rest against him. “Speak to me.”
He made an aborted noise, fists rhythmically clenching at the sheets. “Big,” he finally rasped. “You’re so deep. Can’t—can’t breathe—“
“Yes, you can. You must,” Allura ordered. She pulled out, pushed back into the greedy yawn of his hole, over and over, the wet slap of their movements echoing around the room. The pressure was overwhelming and she had to drop down, letting her aching nipples drag across his back. “Lance!"
“Ah, ah, ah—there—“
His elbows gave out, sending them both lurching into the pillows. Allura scrabbled at his heaving flanks, slotted her hands around his waist, and wrenched him back on to her, garnering a reedy wail. She was hitting something inside him that was making him react like that, but not consistently, and she wondered—
Allura hitched up Lance’s hips and concentrated on making her makeshift shaft grow thicker, longer, crooking down a bit and to the left.
She drew back until nearly all of her was out, and then thrust in hard.
The Human obscenity burst through his lips. Allura laughed breathlessly, planting a palm flat on his back and pushing him down even as he wriggled against her, both of them blazing with heat, their bodies slick. He was rutting against the bed now, seemingly in indecision over whether to buck back against her or to try to get off against the sheets, but she didn’t much care.
Each of her thrusts was making him cry out, his voice breaking higher and higher.
It wasn’t enough; she sat back and grabbed his shoulders, hauling him astride her lap. Altean strength let her shove his legs apart wider atop her thighs, let her hold his twitching body and hips still as she ground in deeper, brushing against that spot without pause.
She reached up and turned his wet face towards her.
“Come,” she told him, lips ghosting over his. “Lance, you’ve been so good for me. Come.”
He clenched around her. Sobbed out. His back bowed, chest arching out and head coming to rest in the crook of her neck. She cried out, too, as she crested, the emptiness of her cunt clenching; she reached down to shove a hand between their bodies to press two fingers into herself.
As she took him in her other hand, she realized, eyes widening, that he was already coming untouched.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Glorious, husband.”
She stroked him until he made a weak noise of protest. They fell on their sides down to their bed, still connected, Lance in Allura’s arms. She let herself revert back to normal, drawing back gently as she left Lance empty.
Under her touch his entrance was hot, slick, and loose, but undamaged. His thighs were still trembling.
Allura shifted to massage them.
“Um,” she said hesitantly. “Was that… all right?”
It took her a moment to realize he was laughing breathlessly. He threaded his fingers through hers.
“Princess,” he said. “I think you blew my mind."