Teeth graze your skin. He’s tasting you as if he’s unsure, but he holds your naked form as if he plans to devour you whole with no chance of escape. He takes up more than what the bed provides, horns occasionally scraping the wall and shifting his position to remain in the available space. You gasp under him. Long ago you gave up your struggle for dominance in your lovemaking. Despite his overwhelming beauty, his desires still beat yours along with his stronger arms and deeper, commanding voice.
He groans lightly as you call his name, but it doesn’t stop nor slow him down. He asked to go further this time, to bite - to lick - to have all of you. He told you of his patience in the past, of his emotional connection prioritization. But tonight he is desperate for more. He huffs and pulls away from your skin, watching the hickeys and bruises that have already begun accumulating up and down your torso and neck.
You take the opportunity to feel one, wincing but feeling happy and claimed.
“Do you intend to make my whole body sore?” you tease, trying to get more comfortable under his weight.
“Ah…” It was meant to be a joke.
“Forgive me if I have not been gentle,” he continues.
“It’s okay, I just think everyone will see is all…”
“Is that a problem?”
“No. It’s okay.”
At the time, you take his smile of relief as an indication that he simply loves to bite and claim. Your ignorance doesn’t prepare you for Startouch culture.
Aaravos massages your shoulders as he continues down your body. Quiet, incessant hums fall from your lips and your hands tug the bedsheets at your sides.
“Are you using magic?”
He chuckles. “I must be doing well for you to ask such a thing.”
You laugh together, but yours quickly becomes a choked sob as his chin reaches to your inner thighs. It’s the end of the road and the point of no return. His soft hair falls from both legs as he scoots your knees up. Clenching the sheets tighter, you close your eyes and prepare for what he plans to do.
But even then, he continues to surprise you.
Your eyes shoot back open as you feel the surge of energy in the air. “Aaravos?”
He answers you with a smile and light pouring from his eyes. With a tilt of his head, fire crawls to life on his hands and fits him like a glove. And then it dies down, barely coating his hand before it turns white. He reaches to grab your leg and you remain perfectly still, wondering if it’ll hurt you if you don’t. But as Aaravos touches your skin, warmth runs over the limb like water. You relax entirely as he does the same to the other and you close your eyes once more.
Rubbing over your skin, you hum contently from the massage. One hand leaves your leg and presses on your crotch and you squeal. Oh - that’s more than a massage. It’s more than warmth. A tiny flame circles through you, but it tickles in a way that your body reacts violently to.
Did you just squirt? Holy shit. You’re unsure, but when you open your eyes to see Aaravos he’s smirking at you. Whatever you did, he’s keenly aware of. He pushes again and you gasp out, legs immediately beginning to quiver. The magic leaves his eyes but his hand continues to glow. He slides the hand from your crotch to cup your sex. Again, the feeling solicits another moan. A wayward finger begins to explore your lips, slinking over them and teasing in-between the flaps to your engorged clit. With each caress, the tiny flame speeds through you.
“That feels really good,” you grunt. He’s hardly touching you, but you’re already exhausted.
“I wish to mate you fully,” he smiles.
With this kind of preparation, even someone of his size and stature will have little trouble. But it’s trouble you so desperately need, coating the sheets in your essence and still feeling magic coursing through your starved body.
The rumble of his voice sends another wave of desire through you, and Aaravos pushes the teasing finger into you. As expected, an even greater heat cracks through you with every small push of his appendix. You call his name, knowing you’re slurring it in your lust-filled haze but calling it desperately anyway. You hope he understands. You pray he does.
The finger thrusts faster and he uses his free hand to spread your leg further away as it threatens to try and close off his access. Your bottom half feels like sand, falling apart and through the cracks of his hand that grips you.
He finally pulls the finger out and shoves his face against your folds instead. His strong arms both take upon the task of giving him the access he needs to pleasure you, holding both legs up slightly as he laps at the flowing stream he brought upon himself. You grind into his mouth as you whine, feeling his tongue - just another long part of him - seek solace in your heat.
Teeth barely touch your clit as he sucks and your hands fly away from the sheets and to his horns. You know they’re sensitive, and even without magic, it makes Aaravos grunt into your sex. Your elven lover pulls away and sits up, licking his lips as he stares hungrily down at you.
His deep blue skin almost seems lighter with the way his stars of freckles are absolutely glowing. They draw your attention despite the golden intensity boring down into your skull.
“One last time,” he huffs, flipping his long hair over a shoulder, “Do you wish me to mate with you?”
“I want you to,” you nod.
He immediately sets upon you again, biting and nipping at your torso and then your neck until you’ve positively crumbled all over again.
Aaravos slows down as he positions yourself between your legs. You relax your body and reach to hold onto his shoulders. You crave him. You crave this. You’re so consumed by the lust that his girth, not meant for human bodies like yours, doesn’t concern you as much as it entices you. You trust him. And you’re ready.
He slides over your entrance, coating himself with your eagerness, before beginning the process of becoming one with you. You help him along, using one hand to spread your folds and the other to guide him inside. Although they weren’t obvious to see, you feel the ridges that shape the sides of his member. Bumps send you huffing and your toes curling. He’s hotter than even his hands are, another welcome surprise.
The twinkling stars slowly disappear as they stretch you. It feels impossible. It’s all impossible, but your body accepts him just as your heart has.
The ridges get bigger as he goes, and he slowly - gently - moves back and forth to help you adjust. But it’s because of this that you’re sent over the edge already. The ridges are hitting spots you didn’t realize felt this nice and you tremble beneath him all over again.
“Fuck - god - Aaravos…” You cry, but Aaravos chuckles.
“It seems there was nothing to worry about,” he coos, a hand caressing your face and brushing past sweat. The hand cradles your cheek and your head droops into it, gasping as Aaravos continues once more to fill more of what already feels full.
You tug on his arms and curse again, but he gives you more and more and more.
“You’re doing well. It’s alright,” he encourages. His voice is soft in its deepness, like the heaviness of the ocean is only tickling your body with the small waves of the shore.
You nod into his hand and kiss it. He pushes a finger into your mouth and you immediately take to sucking on it. It teases around you, then two fingers move to keep your lips apart and mouth open.
“Look at me…”
You obey him, tongue unsure what to do and feeling drool start to gather. But Aaravos slowly moves, teasing in and out and the ridges making you gasp. With your mouth forced open, even the small huffs of pleasure are loud enough for him to hear. He smiles and presses a little faster, hyper-focused on what has to be an unflattering face that scrunches in pleasure.
You’re unable to form words properly and take to groaning more. Your hands desperately shake against his arm and you feel your weary body tipping once more.
Aaravos removes his hand from your mouth and both hands suddenly shove your arms flat into the bed.
“Sing for me.”
The waves harshly crash against you.
Your groans - your cries - your grunts - were all whispers in comparison. Aaravos thrusts heavy and hard into you and you’re screaming. The ridges were already sending you into the clouds, but now at his speed and the way he holds you down, the pleasure the bumps give are incomprehensible.
“Yes, yes, sing,” he growls, his hair falling in his face. He doesn’t stop, throwing his head back every time white threads block the vision of his lovemaking and your visceral reaction to it.
You sing for him indeed and he laughs despite the coarseness of his voice.
“You’re so beautiful. Gorgeous. A singing bird.”
You’re all these things and more. You’re anything he wants you to be when he makes love to you like this, when he controls and elevates what you thought was possible.
It’s the last thing he says before he pulses inside of you, something akin to a growl and howl erupting from his throat. But you’re already so full. His ecstasy seeps out, and for a moment you’re disappointed you can’t have all of him to yourself.
Aaravos leans in, shivering lips tasting up your throat until they finally land in a chaste kiss.
He huffs, the heat of it pooling at the edge of your lips and then he finally brushes his cheek lovingly against yours. Aaravos frees your arms but you don’t dare or care to move them. Where you are is fine.
With a groan, he sits up and stares over your body again. You’re too much in bliss to feel self-conscious about it. You bare yourself to him, happy that your body is the one he chose and willingly devoured. A hand traces over your stomach and circles your belly button. You assumed he was playing with you, but the light reflected in his eyes makes you look down.
Where he has traced is glowing - like his freckles.
But not just there, everywhere he has sought your comfort tonight is slowly lighting up. You are a mere human, but briefly, the light reminds you of all the different elves you’ve seen before.
“Aaravos?” you ask, sitting up too.
“Yes, my heart?”
You blush at the new nickname but don’t address it quite yet. “I’m...glowing.”
He smiles. “Of course. We did well tonight.”
“But why am I glowing?”
Confusion briefly passes his features before he laughs, although the mirth in his voice is largely absent. “Apologies...I didn’t realize...it’s probably different for you.”
“Elves glow after sex?” you sputter.
“Not usually. But when two lovers decide to mate for life, it is a common after-effect for the first time.”
Mate for life.
Different from sex.
Your heartbeat intensifies. “I…”
Aaravos lowers his gaze. “Apologies…”
He meets your eyes again, tilting his head to the side.
“No. I’m happy...I want...I want to mate with you.”
You fold your wobbly legs under yourself and scoot to quickly embrace him, glowing bodies and all.
He holds you close and smoothes his hand up and down your back. “Even if everyone will see?”
“How long does the glowing last?”
“Anywhere from two to three weeks is typical.”
“So everyone will know.”
You smile and kiss the obvious, glowing light on his chest.