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My Only Wish to Worship

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‘Rhea looks divine.’ You think to yourself as your eyes follow her slender fingers and the gentle curve of her lips.

Whether that is divine in terms of piety or simply her striking beauty, you’re not particularly sure. The word sits just right on your tongue.

Rhea looks divine. It’s a fact, in every sense of the word. It’s the reason why whenever you spend time with her that you’re even more silent than usual.

She talks animatedly, voice husky and honeyed. There is a large wealth of literature laid out before you, a detailed litany of the Church of Seiros. Frankly you don’t actually care, none of this is piquing your interest and you only agreed to be here because it was difficult to say no to her.

You don’t particularly mind though, in this situation you can sit close by and observe her features. The vivid aquamarine of her hair and the emerald of her eyes, the delicate profile of her features again the warm glow of candlelight.

She soothes you and draws you in with little effort, when you are with her you feel calm and at peace.

Though perhaps a little too calm, she turns to you when you are not particularly paying attention and you squirm in fear.

“Do you have any thoughts, Byleth?” She questions.

You open your mouth with the hope something profound will come out from it, unfortunately nothing does.

Rhea observes you for a moment until a worried expression pulls over her features, “I am sorry. I have likely talked far too much with little explanation, I hope you can forgive my rudeness.”

“No-” You blurt out, “No it’s fine, I do not have much understanding of the Church so this is all rather… new to me.”

A relieved smile graces her lips, “Yes, of course. Come closer child, let me show you our most treasured texts.”

Again, she talks and none of it is particularly enthralling. Regardless you attempt to draw your vacant attention towards her words. A basic knowledge would be useful at the very least, every day you wake you feel a want to understand more of the world, the structure of the land that influences the people around you.

She draws fingers over an elegant figure wielding a sword, this catches your eye.

“Seiros?”

“Yes?” Rhea clears her throat. “Yes, that is Saint Seiros whom founded the church and the foundations of which we stand upon. If you like, I have far more literature about her to share with you.”

You nod good-naturedly and Rhea bestows upon you another dazzling smile.

“I do treasure these moments alone that I get to spend with you. You seem more relaxed around me recently, that is a good thing.”

She casts an eye over the hands folded neatly in your lap and with little warning she reaches out to take a palm.

“Do not be afraid, come closer, you will strain your eyes sitting so afar.”

There’s a particular kind of heat that settles in your gut when she pulls you in by the fringe of her fingers. It’s an alien sensation, like an itch deep inside that you can’t quite scratch. The warmth runs through your skin and burns hot against your cheeks.

You’re blushing, you can’t ever recall blushing before.

At this point you’re sitting side by side and you’re all too aware of her body resting against yours. Somehow it drains what little attention you had, you can’t concentrate on anything at this point. She’s so close you can feel her body reverberate with each word, and when she guides your hand to place against the text and engravings you can only think of tangling your fingers in with hers.

You catch her scent on the periphery of consciousness, like lilies and camomile. Every one of your senses is assaulted by the proximity, you can’t breathe, or think, without it making you all the more aware of how close you are.

“-sweet child.” She’s talking, giving you another warm smile. Confusingly the heat settles between your thighs. “Is there anything else you would like me to go over?”

You balk. “Not… not particularly.”

She chuckles as if privy to a joke you don’t quite get, and when she begins to hum and draw her fingertips around wayward strands of your hair you lose the ability to breathe as well.

“Such a pretty girl.” She croons, tucking your locks behind your ear. “I profess I blush in your presence.”

“Oh?” You say through dry lips.

“Of course, how could I not? You are radiant.” She pauses, then rears her hand back. “Apologies, that is uncouth of me.”

Your mouth moves before you can think about it, “No, I don’t mind.”

Those fingers draw back to your face as she smiles, you feel numb.

“I am blessed to have you here with me at the monastery. Praise Seiros for allowing our paths to cross, I feel it is nothing short of fate.”

You keenly watch her expression as she outlines your features with her thumb. One might protest against being prodded and poked as if they were a collection in a museum, but this is an opportunity you can’t quite pass up.

She strokes your cheeks, her lips parting with words unsaid as she covets you as if you were one of her precious texts. It’s as if she’s holding back, her eyes and the corners of her lips twitch and flutter. You drink it all in, you sit there as she unravels you. The more you stare, the more you feel your pulse quicken. You’re enthralled, you can’t help but to lean into her touch.

A nail drags by the plump of your lower lip. She pauses, before running her fingertips along the dip of your mouth. Perhaps instinctively your mouth parts open. She moves away yet again.

“Byleth…”

You say nothing, and apparently this is all the invitation she needs to press her lips against yours.

You have no concept of kissing, no concept of desire, however when Rhea moves against you, unknown parts of you seem to seep forth.

The kiss is fleeting, and she moves apart from you as discomfort sits on her face.

“I… I’m sorry.” She sighs. “I should not have done that.”

Disagreement stirs in your throat, but dies out. You don’t know what to say, what would anyone say to that?

Your silence only seems to add to her anguish.

“Don’t look at me like that.” She pleads, she whispers. “You’re making it hard for me to stop.”

You wet your lips. “You don’t have to stop.”

A pained laugh escapes her, but the frustration is not enough to hold her back. She cups your jaw between her hands and presses against your mouth once again.

You’re kissing, and her lips are soft and gentle. You’re kissing, and her mouth is wet and hot. You don’t know what to do with your hands and your knees knock clumsily against hers. While you’re used to handling a blade with practiced ease and precision, that particular kind of finesse does not seem to apply in this situation.

When she pulls away, you’re keenly aware of the heat in your cheeks.

Rhea this close up is even better, you can see every shade and glimmer in her eyes. You are not a religious person, but you feel remarkably cowed. You want to bask in her radiance, let her light wash over you until you’re torn apart. You would drop to your knees, face her righteousness, taste her wrath.

She kisses you again, you close your eyes and swallow down the heavy weight of lust that’s now settled in your stomach. This kiss is deeper, she presses against you with less and less restraint, and not long after you feel her hand drop from your face and trace along the split in your palm.

You’re not sure where she’s guiding you, until you suddenly feel her warm skin underneath your palm. She lets your splayed fingertips dip along her neckline, until she pulls your hand lower beneath the warm confines of her dress.

You are… holding her breast. It’s soft. Your eyes blink open in surprise and Rhea leans back from your mouth to give you a coy smile.

“Is this too much?”

“N...no.” You stammer, “Not at all.”

She chuckles, before unbuckling her capelet and letting it drop to her hips. Somehow it feels more obscene to see her without her usual strong silhouette, stood graciously against a backdrop of monuments and holy architecture.

Pleased by your reaction, she reaches for the top of her dress and pulls it down her body.

That heat in your cheeks seems to spread through the entirety of your face as you’re greeted with her plump breasts and the intoxicating curves of her waist. You blink in stunned silence, barely aware that your hand is still wrapped around her flesh and she’s watching you expectantly.

“Have you ever done something like this before, Byleth?” She says patiently.

Embarrassment begins to mingle with the heady excitement. “I confess that I haven’t.” You reply.

“Not a worry dear one, let me show you.” She reaches for your other hand and brings it to rest on her bosom.

“Squeeze.” She prompts, “Does this feel good?”

“Yes.” You manage to choke out. Your fingertips sink into her skin, and you’re suddenly very aware of the soaking wetness between your thighs. You grab, and you knead, and when Rhea tilts her head and gasps ever so you’re certain you’re going to drop faint there and then.

You let your fingers roam, tracing around her nipple and the peach of her areola. She shudders, and you stare rapturously at how her eyelids flutter.

“May I…” She breathes, “May I see you?”

The question takes more than a few seconds to process, you pull away and begin to fumble at the fastenings of your clothes. Somehow, it’s more difficult than usual, and when you manage to get your head stuck halfway Rhea chuckles warmly and tugs at your waist.

“Come here, let me help you.”

Your limbs tangle ungracefully against her, until you feel yourself settled in her lap. Her soft palm sits just underneath your armpit and she peels your shirt away from your head.

You’re well endowed, you know this because of the many foolish men who have made comments about your chest. Frankly you never saw the appeal, your sexuality was never something you had even a semblance of a thought about, until now.

When Rhea reaches around to grab at your chest, you can’t stop the throaty gasp leaving your lips. Her touch sets you on fire, she thumbs your nipples and graces her lips beside the shell of your ear.

“Does this make you feel good?” She croons, bringing her forefingers to pinch lightly at your breasts. “Please tell me if this makes you uncomfortable.”

“It’s good.” You choke out as she licks at your ear, squirming and gripping furiously at the hem of your shorts.

She melts, “So precious. Thank you for allowing me to touch you like this, this is a sight I could only envision in my most private moments.”

She kisses along the bare skin of your shoulder, sighing, tasting you as she dips along into the crook of your neck. Her fingers never cease their grip on your chest, pulling, tugging, kneading. You can feel the grind of her naked body against yours, her breasts warm at your back, and the tickle of her hair along the bare spots of your skin.

Your undergarments are soaked at this point, and you’re certain you can feel your slick dripping down your thighs. It’s embarrassing, and you desperately attempt to close your legs to avoid making your situation apparent.

The action does not go unnoticed however, Rhea drops a hand and circles it along the waistband of your shorts.

“Would you like me to touch you here? I can show you pleasure if you want it.”

You’re not certain what she means, because isn’t this pleasure enough? You tilt your head upwards to face her, noting the light flush on her cheeks.

“Tell me Byleth, have you ever… explored your body like this?”

The embarrassment creeps up your spine, you shake your head begrudgingly and she laughs breathy and light.

“There is no need to feel ashamed, I can teach you if you like, here-”

Her hand dips lower beneath your clothes, and you’re not really certain what to expect until she brushes along the hair above your slit and pushes a finger between your soaking wet folds.

It’s like lightning. You thought it felt good when she tugged at your breasts but now you can hardly stop yourself from crying out as she presses against you and a heady fuzzy sensation clouds over your senses.

Her finger swirls against you, and you find yourself gripping desperately at her arm in a haze. All the while she continues to cradle you, whispering gentle words of, “Beautiful.”, and “Precious.” in your ear as her other hand works mercilessly against your chest.

It’s blinding. You feel yourself breaking apart at the seams the more her clever fingers curl around in your body. It’s unbearable, and before long you’re sobbing and begging for an end.

“Are you close?” She whispers, slipping another finger in to grind against the sordid spots of your body. “Are you going to come my love?”

You shiver, you toss and you moan, “I don’t- I don’t-”

“Shh. Shh, it’s okay, you can let yourself go, I don’t mind. Would you be able to come for me? Can you do that?”

You shake your head desperately.

“Don’t be afraid, I’m here with you.” She swirls her fingers and you can’t stop your body from shaking, “You’re doing so well, just let it build up inside of you. It feels good doesn’t it?”

The pressure in your stomach is close to snapping, a delirious fever you’re ravenous for release from. Rhea chuckles and kisses you gently. Her fingers don’t stop, and before you can comprehend what’s happening you feel yourself unravel all at once.

It mounts, and it mounts, until suddenly the waters spill over. You’re trembling and crying, thighs jerking with a life of their own as Rhea captures your mouth hungrily and swallows it all down. The pleasure seems to blot out your awareness, you find for a few moments that nothing exists other than the searing heat in your gut.

The peak leaves you boneless, a melted pile of human goo against her body.

Your eyes flutter shut on their own accord, and you’re vaguely aware of Rhea humming and playing with your hair once your senses begin to slowly thrum back into life. It’s pleasant, even if you’re feeling a little unaware of where you even are at this point.

“I’m proud of you.” You hear her saying. “You did so well.”

You’re not exactly certain what about that you did well, but the praise is nice regardless. You let her caress you until you find the energy to eventually open your eyelids.

“How are you feeling? I hope that was a good experience for you.”

“It was.” You note your voice is hoarse. “Thank you.”

“There is no need to thank me, I enjoyed it just as much as you did.”

You ponder over those words for a few moments, before turning in her lap to face her. Despite the fact your lust was sated barely a few minutes ago, you feel another throb between your thighs as you look down at her naked body.

“Should I…?”

She smiles, “Should you…?”

You glance pointedly down at where her dress has pooled at her waist.

“I see. You’re so thoughtful.” She pauses. “Would you like to?”

That familiar pressure in your gut wells up.

“If… If you would permit me to do so.”

A soft laugh leaves her lips, and she nudges at you to allow her to pull the rest of her garments from her body.

Her full figure comes into view, long shapely legs and spotless skin. Again you find yourself at a loss for words as the very nature of what she is and how she looks hits you square in the chest. She turns to face you and unbuckles your belt, the sight rapturous and burnt into your memories.

“Shall I show you something else, little one?”

At this point it would be nigh impossible to say no. She tugs down your shorts and your pantyhose, until you’re just as bare as she is.

You know your desire is smeared over your skin, your thighs glisten as she opens your legs and your womanhood is bared for her to see. Haze clouds at your mind once again, you feel wanton and obscene being exposed like this, for her.

She drinks in the sight of you, before laying flat on the cushions and pulling you on top of her. Her disheveled hair frames a portrait of her body, her breasts sitting round and enticing against the curls of turquoise tangled across her skin.

You’re expecting to be kissed, however she simply wrings her fingers through your hair and tugs at your rear.

“Turn around.” She prompts at your confusion, and you do.

You turn to face the slit in her body, as suddenly those hands find your hips again and pull you closer to her face.

You’re not certain what you’re to be doing, until Rhea presses her lips against your clit and her tongue slides between your slick flesh. Suddenly the pleasure barrages back in. You’re crying out as Rhea works her mouth against your sex and it becomes all so unbearable yet again.

This time however, you understand what you’re doing, even if you’re a mere fraction experienced as she is. Your shaking fingers find the wet heat of her body, and when you slide your fingers down just so you’re rewarded by a loud gasp from behind you.

It’s practice really, you can observe the moves of your opponent and follow their form. You may not be the most worldly-wise member of the faculty, but you make up for it by being a fast-learner.

You follow in her steps, pressing against her and twirling your fingers. She shudders beneath you, and it gives you enough confidence to press your face down between her thighs and lathe a tongue over her soaking wet folds.

A peculiar sharp taste hits your tongue, you swallow it down and rub against her sex.

You reckon you could have done an amazing job, you’re definitely not a selfish lover (even though you have little comprehension of what being a selfless lover actually entails), but when Rhea takes her fingers and presses them deep deep within your body you find you’re struggling to keep your attention.

Instead you baulk, cry out against the side of her thigh as she curls her fingers and that heavy heat burns in your stomach. It’s followed up by her mouth, her tongue flicking with precision against you until that too sinks into your pussy and you feel her undulating inside you.

There is far more to learn, you realise, however that thought is quickly swept away as you feel your orgasm quake through your body. The stimulation is borderline unbearable, however she holds you in a surprisingly tight grip as she rides you through it, her fingers grinding mercilessly against the places that ache the most. Your toes curl and you find all life sinking out from your limbs and you shake and moan frantically between her legs.

It is done, you lay there panting and all too aware that there is still slick seeping out from her body. She laughs airily, and allows you reprieve.

“I’m sorry, that was probably a little too much for you.”

In response, you try to slide your fingers into her folds.

She chuckles, “If you are still eager to please me, would you allow me to try something else?”

At this point you’re barely coherent when she slides out from under you. You’re greeted with her radiant face, and she rakes her hands through your hair.

“You’ve been so wonderful, are you still happy for me to continue?” She presses, stroking the side of your face. “I don’t mind if you’ve had enough for today.”

You shake your head. “No, I want to continue, please.”

She lights up, and pulls you down to lie on your back.

You won’t profess to know the sorts of things two people do behind closed doors, no matter how much Sylvain wishes to derail the conversation toward such profanity, so you can only watch with intrigue as Rhea sits above you on her knees and twirls a finger around your nipple.

She shuffles forward, until your head lays between her thighs and she’s gazing down at you lovingly.

You have a semblance, now. However it doesn’t stop the thrill of surprise running up your spine as she lowers herself onto your mouth and a sultry gasp leaves her lips.
Her hips grind, and your eager mouth laps it up. The entire time she’s watching you, peering down between her bouncing breasts. You’re desperate to please now, you work your tongue and moan against her wet aching pussy.

You feel her damp smeared across your lips, your chin. It’s not a sensation you could say you’re used to, but regardless just the very thought of this, of Rhea above you, thrusting against you, her desire fresh on your skin, is one you doubt you could ever truly forget.

You’ve never had much of an interest in exploring your body, but you’re certain you could with memories like this in mind.

She gradually speeds up, her eyes fluttering shut and a melody of beautiful noises escaping her. Arousal strikes you between your legs and you find yourself snaking a hand down to twirl around your clit.

It’s nigh impossible to stop yourself from coming there and then, but you try your best to match her speed. You press your tongue into the confines of her body and she responds by shuddering and grinding harder against you.

A hand reaches for the fringes of your hair and suddenly you’re being yanked, her fingers wringing into your strands and using you for leverage. At this point she’s becoming clumsy, all restraint and posture diminished into a frantic chase for pleasure. You watch enraptured as her climax shudders through her body, her voice growing high and hoarse as she cries out against your slick mouth and the pressure on your face becomes almost painful.

Your busy fingers make sure you’re following with her, your gut seizes as you’re moaning against her sex. You shiver and shake against her, drinking in the sight of her face in the throes of rapture, until your bodies stop moving and the room becomes quiet aside from the sounds of your breathing.

“That was… That was…” Rhea pants, sitting back to allow you the ability to breathe fully again.

An stilted silence fills the air, she lays against you so that you’re nestled against her chest and strokes your hair thoughtfully.

It is quiet, nothing moves.

“I hope you don’t think any less of me now.” She says eventually. “That is not a side of myself I tend to show many people.”

You’re confused, and at this point barely functioning. You shift in her embrace and face her.

“Why would you feel uncomfortable? We’re both naked in this situation are we not?”

She smiles, then looks away abashed.

“There are many sides to me that I think would change your opinion, my child.”

You ponder that, and decide not to dwell on it.

“I don’t think you can make that assumption until you show them to me.”

Her mouth opens, but nothing else follows. Instead she opts to run her fingertips against your cheek and hum gently.

“I suppose not.”