Hug — Part 1 (Patreon)
Content
As your arms come to circle around him, you feel more than hear his sharp intake of breath. A slow smile spreads on your lips as you rest your forehead between his shoulder blades. Hadrian all but stops breathing when you press your face against him.
He’s warm and solid. Your hands sprawl on his stomach, feeling the muscles twitch beneath your touch. You can smell his scent on his shirt, can listen to his heart. It beats wildly. You stay silent, eyes closing as your chest melts to his back, and you breathe together in synch.
Hadrian’s hands are rough when they circle around yours. Rough and calloused and so gentle, it makes your smile grow until your cheeks ache. “I…” You hear his voice in your ears, feel its vibration on your cheek, rumbling from his chest. “I’ll just stay quiet.”
You chuckle then, arms tightening around him, picturing his flushed cheeks in your mind’s eyes. But his fingers are roaming the bare skin of your arms, circling your wrists, pressing into your pulse point. “What a pity,” you say in a quiet tone, settling further against him. “For I quite like your voice.”
Darkness is all you see, and his warmth is all you feel, and when Hadrian hesitantly starts to speak, words losing any meaning in your ears, the low rumble of his voice is all you hear.
He speaks until you dance at the edge of dreamland, and your arms lose their strength, loosening their hold on him. Hadrian speaks still, murmuring lowly when he turns to cradle you instead. You feel faint fingers brushing your cheek, and just before consciousness fades, you’re lifted into two strong arms.
“You’re beautiful.”
And you don’t know if it’s a dream or his real voice you hear, but you smile all the same.
- - -
Your first thought is how soft she is. As your arms loop around Alessa’s waist, your chest pressing against her back, you’re almost surprised by how pliant she feels against you. Her hair brushes your face when you turn your head to rest your cheek against her shoulder with a lopsided smirk on your lips.
Alessa’s profile is still, her frozen eyes staring ahead. And even as you feel her muscles stiffen, she is no less soft. No less pliant while you spy the red on her cheeks, flooding her freckles in a warm hue. “What are you doing?” Comes her sharp voice, but even in its coldness, it has no bite.
Your second thought is how warm she feels. “I believe I’m hugging you,” you say lightly, slumping further against her. Alessa’s lips tighten, her hands clench, and the blue of her eyes refuses to look back at you.
But the silence that falls is peaceful, so you hug her closer and allow your eyelids to dro. Slowly, you feel her body unwind. Feel a breath against your cheek and cold fingers on your wrist. “I suppose…” She hesitates, and your smile grows. “I suppose this is not entirely disagreeable.”
You hum, hand shifting until you catch her own. You interlock your fingers together, resting them both against her stomach. “I’m glad,” you say, resisting the urge to kiss her skin. “I shudder to think what you would do were my touch deemed disagreeable.”
Your third thought is how pretty her laugh is, reverberating from her back to your chest. You crack an eye open just to see her smile, and breath catches in your throat when light blue eyes shine at you. “Nothing too terrible,” Alessa says in a quiet voice. “I cannot fault a fool for acting foolish.”
Your fourth and final thought is how beautiful she is. Melting into your arms, warm and pliant, and with a rare smile on her lips. One that softens her face. That softens her gaze.
- - -
The soft velvet beneath your palm feels like water rolling over the stones of a crystalline river. You twist your fingers around the fabric, watching the nobles twirling and dancing down below, elaborate masks hiding their faces, concealed words masking their intentions.
Music also drifts from below, the minstrels filling every inch of the air with their masterful notes. Your ears are so occupied with the elegant song that they fail to pick up the sound of footsteps approaching.
But your fingers jolt on the balcony's tapestry when suddenly, two arms circle your waist, and a pair of hands come to rest on the rail beside your own. Brown golden skin and sporting a thin bracelet of jade green. "Here you are," Alain whispers beside your ear, his soft breath tickling the fine hairs near your neck. "I thought my sparrow had flown away."
You let out a breath, muscles slowly unwinding. Alain stands right behind, but he doesn't touch you. He stays just a few inches away. "Where would I fly?" you say, turning your head just the slightest bit to the left. His mask presses against your cheek as you lift an eyebrow at the holes for the eyes. You can see the brown there, always twinkling. "There's no respite anywhere. I thought I found one, but look."
You lean back until your shoulders press into his chest. "A menace found me."
Alain pauses, and then he grins. His hands slide on top of yours, fingers cold as if he was carrying something chilled just before, and you're pushed forward against the rail as slowly, Alain finally presses into you.
His chest covers your back, his legs block yours, and his grin vanishes from view when he sticks his chin on your neck to kiss your ear. "Menace? You wound me," Alain whispers, peppering kisses between the words. You close your eyes in his embrace, the music melting around you, your thoughts drifting with his caresses. Your skin tingles pleasantly with little bursts of heat that radiate to your very core.
Nobles dance and twirl down below as you fall into the nook of his arms. "But no flying away, not tonight," the Theer continues, one hand leaving the rail to turn your chin to the side. His breath washes over your lips now. "Tonight, you are mine."
Alain closes the distance, kiss playful, words smoldering.
- - -
The cooling night breeze feels like mist against your heated skin. The sky opens wide before you, and the window you peer from is so large that it seems as if you float in the air. Stars shine, the moon looms, and the whole city is plunged into sleep.
You take a deep breath, rub your arms, and pretend you didn't hear the door click behind you. You keep staring ahead as the patter of naked feet makes its way to you. It stops just behind, and silence fills the room once more.
"Enjoying the view?" Ysabella's melodious voice replaces it. She sounds throatier than usual, still weighted from sleep, but you hear the familiar glint in her tone and can only imagine the pretty smile on her lips.
"I am," you say, resting your elbows on the balustrade. You inhale again, eyes still staring into the depths of night. But when you feel her fingers lightly tapping your shoulder, nails dragging faint lines on your skin as she playfully traces them down your back, you can't help but smile. "I'm enjoying it a bit more now."
Ysabella giggles faintly, the rush of air blowing against your ribs. Her fingers continue their journey, stopping at the end of your spine. "Really? Do tell me why, and make sure you say it's because of me, for I do love a compliment." Bella ducks her head beneath your arm, and suddenly a large fluffy mop of brown curls presses against your chest. Her arm circles your hip, helping her melt into you as her free hand comes to meet one of yours.
You look down at her as you turn your wrist and intertwine your fingers together. Ysabella rests her chin on your collarbone to smile at you. She's only wearing a thin nightdress, the collar so loose, you can see the valleys of her breasts pressing into your side.
You chuckle, moving your arm to hug her closer. "You must have a talent for reading minds, Ysabella because you are exactly the cause."
She laughs again, louder, and you smile at the sound. "Oh, how you flatter me," she says, standing on her tiptoes to steal a quick kiss. Ysabella then rests her chin on your chest and looks out of the window. "I like the nights too," she tells you, voice quieter. "They feel... they make me feel like I could be anyone."
You trace her spine, hand flushed against the sheer fabric of her drees until you meet the skin of her neck, and then plunge your fingers into the mess of her curls. You love seeing them like this, free and disarrayed and tossed from bed. "Anyone?" you ask, leaving a kiss on her temple.
Ysabella lets go of your hand to circle both arms around your waist. She squeezes you tight, pressing you into her chest. "Anyone," she whispers, lifting her face once again until two brown, beautiful eyes meet yours. "You make me feel that way too."
She's warm and so soft and wrapped around you like a blanket, but the night breeze covers you both. It takes her words away, making sure they are only ever heard by the two of you. "You make me feel free," Ysabella whispers as you cup her cheek and steal her breath with a deep kiss.