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Let Go

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Edelgard likes letting go, she’s found.

There are nights when she’ll just lie there, taking everything Dorothea is willing to give her until she’s a shivering, writhing mess, none of that regal, harsh demeanor remaining in her glazed over eyes, her hair undone into a white halo around her flushed face.

Dorothea loves watching her like that, loves teasing her fingers over Edelgard’s clit until she begs for more, thighs clenching around her hand.

She loves kissing her way down Edelgard’s body, loves the way her muscles draw taut with every touch of her lips until she finds the wet warmth between her legs, lapping up the liquid pooling there until Edelgard cries out her name.

Tonight is different.

I want to try something Edelgard had murmured against her lips when they’d kissed, and oh, Dorothea had loved the glint in her eyes.

The silken sash is cool against her lids, wrists held down by a similar fabric, and that alone is enough to make her squirm in anticipation.

But Edelgard is patient, humming quietly to herself and doing nothing but look - at least that’s what Dorothea presumes. She can feel the dip in the bed where Edelgard is sitting beside her, can feel the warmth radiating from her skin, but she can’t see. She can’t see, and ah, this is when Edelgard feels like whenever she asks for Dorothea to let her fall and catch her after.

Edie, she breathes, and finally there it is, Edelgard’s hand skimming up her side, calluses rough against her skin but causing delicious fraction when she rubs deliberately over one of Dorothea’s hardened nipples, a soft gasp escaping her.

You’re so beautiful, Edelgard breathes against her skin, and that’s enough to make Dorothea buck up against her, an amused laugh the only response Edelgard gives.

Patience, my love.

But oh, patience has never been so difficult when it’s not her drawing the sounds out of Edelgard, taking her apart with her hands, her mouth, easing the burdens of leadership from her love’s shoulders.

Dorothea sobs with relief when Edelgard’s fingers finally trail past her hip, through coarse hair and over her swollen clit, her lips never pausing in nipping and sucking at Dorothea’s nipple, by now surely swollen and red, a sight she loves so much on Edelgard.

But then all that warmth is suddenly gone and Dorothea cries out at the loss, arching up to chase after Edelgard’s touch.

Please, Dorothea gasps, and it seems to be just what Edelgard wanted to hear, the bed shifting underneath her as she readjusts and then Dorothea can only moan when Edelgard lowers her mouth over her clit in one swift movement and sucks.

She’s distantly aware of Edelgard bracing herself against her thighs, but all her senses just seem to zero in on those clever lips and tongue working her, drawing the sweetest sounds from her throat, making Dorothea sing.

There’s no chance of her warning Edelgard when her climax rushes over her, all words chased out of her head when her love swiftly sinks two of those lovely fingers into her, lightly biting at the throbbing nub that she’s been using to drive her senseless - but even then Edelgard doesn’t relent, only pulls away for a moment.

I’m going to make you fall apart.

It’s a promise Dorothea is all too happy to let Edelgard keep.