Warm Waters — Alessa (Mature) (Patreon)

Water ripples with every wave of your hand. 

Your fingers move without a hurry, lazy as they rise and fall from the bathtub. Water clings to your skin, little droplets shining clear with the sunlight pouring through until they fall back down. The resounding splashes are gentle, like crystals rolling inside a sack, and they tickle your ears with the same pleasantness of the steam that rises to kiss your lashes. 

The air inside the bedchamber is hazy, filled with the mist rising from the bath, and you're not inside the tub, but you feel its warmth all the same. The window is so fogged, that you can't see the outside, but it's not as if you want to. You don't need to see further than a hand's reach away, you can't tear your eyes from the sight before you. 

Your hair is heavy, strands almost dripping, and you discarded your shirt long ago. Water condenses on your back, slipping into the waistline of your pants, but just as you don't feel the way your knees have grown numb, so don't you feel the stickiness of the fabric. You don't feel much, really. 

Aside from her. 

Alessa has her head leaned back, nape resting on a folded towel at the edge of the tub, so that her throat is laid bare. The skin is pale and littered with tiny freckles that spread to her collarbones and then below, to the underwater planes of her chest. Her eyes are closed, her cheeks flushed, and those full lips are slightly turned at the corners. 

You have trouble deciding what you'd like to kiss first.

Your hand falls into the water again, the ripples moving across the surface and washing against her body like the mighty waves of the ocean. It's so silent, but you drown in her light breathing, and when you lean forward, your chin grazing her ear, you put the little hitch in her breath to memory. "Have I caught you in a bad time?" you mumble, tilting your head so that your lips move against her temple. 

Alessa does not answer. She rolls her shoulders, sinking a bit further into the water. You hmm from low in your chest and know she felt it in the way that she shivers. "Are you sleeping, perhaps, Alessa?"

Her lips quirk further, and her eyes close tighter, and you chuckle because it's so rare to catch her in a playful mood, but you're not one to waste it. 

She's feeling playful? Well, you're her jester, then. You're anything she wants you to be as long as she allows you to stay right here. 

In a foggy room, kneeling by a bathtub, with Alessa like an offering from the heavens. 

You move your lazy, sluggish fingers until they touch the outside of her bare thigh. She flinches, just the slightest bit, at the first contact, but she lifts her head so that it rests on your shoulder, and you take it as permission. Turning your hand, you tap your fingertips along her thigh, up her waist, to sprawl your palm at the center of her stomach. 

You press firmly, feeling the softness of her skin, smiling at the sigh that falls from her lips. And then, you wait. The scent of lavender mingles with the steam, coming from the flowers Alessa peppered the bath with, and it grows stronger when she turns her head on your shoulder. "My dream began with such promise..." she says, her eyes closed still, her lips quirked still, but there's a wrinkle in the middle of her forehead now that you also want to kiss. 

"But alas, it has grown stale," Alessa says. She speaks barely above a whisper, the low cadence of her voice mingling with the silence so that it doesn't break it, but adds to it. It tickles your ears too, just as her breath on your skin makes your heart beat faster. "A disappointment."

You smile. "Is that so?"

She quirks an eyebrow, and it's comical when her eyes stay stubbornly closed. "However else would you—"

You lean in to press your mouth against hers. Alessa gasps in surprise, and you drink the sound as you melt your lips together. You drink her in, slowly, as lazy as your hand, keeping a firm pressure on her stomach. Alessa seems stunned for a moment, but it doesn't last long. She opens her mouth, and now it's your turn to groan when her tongue seeks to deepen the kiss. 

Five sharp nails, wet and passionate, grab the side of your head, twisting in your hair, and dark shivers crawl down your back to pool in your lower stomach when she pulls you to her. You go, of course, air becoming shorter and shorter as the kiss goes on, but you ignore the pressure on your chest. You ignore it all as you taste her, sucking her bottom lip, biting ever so slightly. 

Alessa's nails dig deeper when she gasps, loud, but you drink it too, and she's half-rising from the tub—

When you break away, gulping down air, your hand pushing her back down into the water. 

Alessa's cheeks are completely red, her chest heaves up and down, and when she finally opens her eyes, they're so dilated, you can scarcely see the blue. "Why have you ceased?" she asks, the question more like a demand as she scowls at your smirk. But she doesn't try to fight against your grip, settling back down onto the tub. 

You lean until your lips are almost touching again. "You're beautiful," you tell her. 

Alessa stares at you. "As are you," she says, long fingers, sharp usually, but so tender now, cradle your jaw. And her cheeks aren't flush from the heat alone as she leans in and kisses you, briefly, fleetingly. Deliciously. "Come inside, foolish one."

Oh, you want to. You will. But—

"No," you say, and before she can scowl again, you tilt her chin and lock your lips on her throat. 

"Oh," Alessa lets out, her whole body trembling as you suck on the pulse point right beneath her jaw. Her hand falls away, listless into the water, as you guide her head back onto your shoulder. You kiss the hollow of her throat next, and then the side of her neck, your tongue lapping and teeth grazing, and delighting with every sound you can tear from her lips.

Alessa closes her eyes when you get to her collarbones, her breath heavy. You see the tip of her nipples peaking from the water, and your hand on her stomach finally moves. You caress her ribs as you kiss her shoulder, and Alessa curves her spine when you come to hold one of her breasts. It fits perfectly in your palm, your thumb tenderly sweeps over the nipple, and you're smiling when she groans from low in her chest. 

"Do not—" Alessa starts, but her breath hitches when your other hand cups her second breast. You lift your head, smiling a smile made of smugness. 

"Should I not?" you whisper, tugging her earlobe between your teeth. 

Alessa's mouth opens when you suck the skin, when you kneed her breasts in tandem. Her legs spasm on the tub, thighs rubbing together, and when she grabs the back of your head, you know what she asks.

"Do not stop," she demands. Hisses, her eyes cracking open, so one slitter of beautiful, lightning blue looks at you. 

You kiss her again, quieting her whimpers, and do as she begs. One of your hands lifts to her neck, holding her in place for you to explore her mouth anew, while the other pinches her nipple for a last time before floating lower. 

Alessa's legs part as you approach, and you want to kiss every inch of her skin, but you can't find it in yourself to delay this. You'll have time afterward, you'll always make time for her. 

And when your fingers dip in, gentle, careful, tender, Alessa breaks the kiss to arch against the bathtub, her freckles like constellations against a foggy sky, her voice like the notes of the epics of old. 

And you pleasure her, for as long as she needs, kneeling beside her bathtub, putting every detail into memory. Every sound, every scent, every sight. 

"My darling one."

Every word.