Iris took off her armor slowly, the wound in her side tugging against the rough fabric of her tunic. She hissed when she dropped it onto the rough bedding on the ground. Her charge, the prince looked quite distraught at the sight of her, his hands hovering in the space between them. She shook her head at his silent question and she limped to the water basin, taking the washcloth to the side of it, and dipping a corner into the water. She lifted the tunic until herr wound was exposed and cleaned it as best she could.
“Are you sure you don’t want any help?” he asked nervously.
“I’m fine Your Highness. But it's a bit gruesome. You should look away,” she said gruffly.
“I think not. And how many times do I have to tell you to call me by my name?” he asked, somewhat teasingly, but the effect was somewhat lost by his worn face. They'd had a harrowing few days, nothing that Iris had ever experienced, and certainly not the prince. She was a bit worried that he'd be falling into shock at some point, but he'd held himself together.
Perhaps his upbringing had been stern enough to make him worthy of the throne.
“I would be remiss if I forgot my place Your Highness. We've been through a lot, but when this is over you will still be a prince, and I'll be a common royal guard.”
“There's nothing common about you, Miss West.” he said, shaking his head as she applied a cream to her wounds. The stuff was damn near magic and she'd have to thank Master Chirurgeon Snow for this. She wrapped her wound deftly, glancing at the prince, who was still looking at her.
“Oh? Well, you're probably right. Few women in this kingdom and the next have my skill set without the downfall of seduction being a part of the deal,” she said lightly. She laughed, but the prince did not. He was still staring and Iris recognized it for what is was: yearning.
“Miss West, you do realize just how astonishing you are don't you?” he asked slowly, standing up smoothly, towering above her like her never seemed to before.
“Your Highness?” she asked quietly, hardly daring to believe this. The prince was known to be handsome and he was, more than Iris had thought herself, though to be fair she'd hardly thought of him at all before this.
But, on their impromptu adventure, she'd found that he was more than just a pretty face. He was kind, warm, clever, and achingly gentle. While traveling with him she'd expected the detached interest that many nobles afforded those less fortunate. But the prince not only knew the state of the people, he'd sought to find them solutions, even when every detour and nearly missed checkpoint put him further into harm's way. She'd unexpectedly come to respect him, but paired with her attraction and the sexual tension, she was both flustered and warmed by the naked want in his eyes.
He was so charismatic usually and the way he stood next to her, the fire light bringing his face into warm and stark relief made her breath catch in her throat.
“I don’t want to be disrespectful, Miss West but I would very much like to know you intimately,” he said simply. Iris looked up at him, almost suspiciously. She knew he wasn’t some pervert but this was so improper. She was no longer a virgin, and she was sure that he wasn’t either but they could hardly let their guards down to indulge. And she was certain they didn’t love each other, even if they did have some affection and attraction.
“Your Highness this isn’t appropriate. And you’re stressed out and tired. You’ll regret this in the morning when you remember how different our stations are,” she said simply, but she did feel a sense of loss saying it.
The prince scoffed and his hands reached for hers slowly, gripping them loosely enough for her to pull away but she didn’t.
“Miss West, if we were to strip away conditions of birth I can assure you that it would be you who is too good for me,” he smiled. He was so charming, smiling at her like that while the fire crackled that he brought one shaky hand up to his chest and felt the rapid palpitations of his heart and felt honored to know that the thought of being with her was enough to do this to him.
“You’re selling yourself short, Your Highness. You’re a wonderful man. One of the best I’ve ever met. And I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t...interested in you as well,” she admitted bringing her other hand to his shoulder, her fingers brushing the hairs on the nape of his neck.
At this point it’s clear to Iris that they’re going to do this, and if they regret it in the morning they’ll handle it then. He let go of her hands and then brought his hands her her back, spreading his fingers and bringing another hand to her hip and pulling her flush against him.
“May I kiss you, Miss West?” he whispered, dipping his head so that his lips brushed the shell of her ear and when she opened her mouth to respond he nibbled at her earlobe, smirking at the ragged sigh she let out.
“Yes you may,” she said heatedly. After that it was a flurry of kisses along her neck from the prince. He kissed her like she was water and he was stranded in the desert, devouring her like it was his only chance, and really it was.
But Iris was not a passive lover and she gripped the fabric of his shirt and pulled him towards the bed and then pushed him down onto the bed, following after him. She straddled his waist and looked down at him, before leaning down and capturing his lips and sighing with relief.
Yes, this would do just fine. He brought his hands to her thighs and pulling her legs further apart, making her fall down onto his hips, gasping when she realized just how hard his body was beneath hers. She cradled his face with her worn and calloused hands, her mouth falling open to deepen the kiss. He groaned in appreciation and his hands kneaded her thighs slowly, his large hands, warm and rough, even through the thick fabric.
What they were doing, this affair in a safehouse was so scandalous and if it ever got out. Iris might be risking her safety and the prince was risking his reputation; people would assume the worst of him, that he used his influence to force her, but only they would know about the deep sighs and exhaled moans.
“You’re so light, Miss West. So delicate, but I know just how dangerous you are,” he noted, almost awed by her. She chuckled and leaned down to bite at his jaw, smirking into the skin when he bucked under her.
“Yes, and you’d better not forget it either.” she said, lifting up enough to pull her tunic off and unwrap her breasts. He watched their sway with rapt attention before his hands reached up to cradle them, testing the weight of each individual breast and tweaked each nipple, his smile triumphant when she huffed.
“I could never, Miss West,” he told her, sitting up and tossing his one top off and helping her tug her woolen tights off. Soon enough the both of them are naked but the make no immediate move to become one. Rather they are still exploring, but the prince more aggressively so.
He was his mouth on one breast and a free hand is giving the other ample attention to get both nipples hard and swollen. His free hand is tugging at her hair almost playfully before grasping a handful of her ass, making her grind harder on him. She can’t help panting into his temple, her hands resting his shoulders to stay balanced. She’s had a fair amount of lovers in her life but the prince treats this like an art and not one of the most base of human desires.
“Your Highness!” she exclaims when he lifts her bodily and deposits her below him. He pauses at her exclamation and she realizes a second later that he thinks it’s hesitation. She cradled his face, grinning almost ferally at him. “Don’t stop on my account. I was just surprised by your strength. But I am injured, so please be more careful,” she told him and he nodded, before sliding so that he was looking at her lower half. He lifted her legs and placed them over his shoulders. He reached for her hands and placed them on his head, making sure that she had a few soft, dark tufts in between her fingers.
“I like it when my hair gets tugged,” he said simply.
And then he began to feast.
There was so much to say about the way the prince kissed her most private area. He was clearly well practiced at it, but more importantly he seemed to genuinely adore it. He didn’t shy away from her taste, rather he devour her with zeal like she must have been his wife and it was a heady feeling.
“Oh, oh that feels--ugh,” she groaned when he sucked at her his thumbs holding her open to give himself more direct access. “Yes, yes, yes Your H--highness I’m--” she cut herself and started to babble, her eyes closing blissfully. She could feel him smirking against her before pulling away to rest his head against her thigh, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses against her tender skin, the cool air making the wet skin prickle.
“Yes, Miss West? Did you need something?” he asked patiently. She peered down at him and saw that his mouth was shiny and his hair mussed from her busy fingers. She dug her heels into his shoulder blades.
“Don’t tease. If you’re going to eat my pussy, finish the job,” she tried to sound demanding but she felt that she might have actually been desperately whining. He seemed to deliberate before he kissed her clit.
“Of course. You’ll want to be quite wet,” he murmured before bringing his thumb to her clit and rubbing firmly, his tongue stiffening and then plundering her depths, twisting and thrusting inside her, his thumb still applying firm a regular attention to her clit. Her legs stiffened and then began to quake uncontrollably and she panted.
“Yes, please don’t stop that’s it Your Highness I’m so close,” she struggled to find words but after that her whole world exploded and Iris was sure that she must have blacked out because when she focused, the prince was now laying next to her, stroking at her folds with his fingers, dipping inside her languidly and stretching her slowly. She pushed her face into his shoulder and bit at the skin there, groaning.
“Welcome back. Are you ready now, or would you like more preparation?” he asked smugly. She glances down and sees the prince in all his glory, his turgid length lying against his leg. It’s far too big to look almost innocent but Iris decides that she wants to return the favor, or at least some of it.
“Oh I think we can get things more wet,” she laughed and crawled down, nestling so that she’s laying horizontally along the bed, her head next to his erection. She wrapped a hand around the base and laved her tongue over the tip, collecting his essence in her mouth rolling it around, wrapping her lips firmly around the tip. She stroked him steadily while her tongue flicked against him. She slowly sunk down in measured amounts. Rather than swallow her collecting saliva she let it pool in her mouth and used it to make the movement of her hand more smooth and wet. She could feel his hands hovering over her head before his hands rested on her head, guiding her movements but not stopping them or forcing her down. No matter, she thought.
She removed her hand from the base and slid her mouth down his length, breathing slowly until the head of his penis was nestled at the entrance of her throat and her lips rested against the drawn up and tight skin of his testicles.
He choked audibly an Iris was almost tempted to pull off to tell him that she should be the one struggling to breathe. But she swallows, knowing that the motion of her throat will be unlike anything she could do at her core.
She clenched her fingers over his hips and began to suck, pulling off slowly, her tongue brushing against the underside of his dick. When she reached the tip and used her tongue to wrap around the head and pursed her lips, pressing delicate kisses over the head.
“Oh God, please don’t stop,” he moaned, stroking the back of her neck. Iris caught her breath and put her mouth back on him, sinking down to the hilt again. It was a slow arduous process and Iris was sure that her throat would be sore tomorrow, but she had to admit that this was sexy to her, pleasuring the prince.
Many people had probably done it for him, but she was probably among the lucky few who could say that he also was in awe of her fighting ability--at least she hoped so.
Still, she kept it going for longer than she had expected but the prince eventually pulled her off and before she could catch her breath he had simply hauled her up and held her over the glistening tip.
“I think we can both agree,” he panted pressing kisses all over her face and neck as she widened her stance, brushing the still dripping folds of her sex over his erection. “That we are both sufficiently ready,” he finished, snapping his hips up. Her hands flew to his hair and she pulled his face to hers, their lips barely kissing. Iris rested a hand behind her, on his thigh and used it for leverage, her hips grinding back and forth over him. She let her head loll back as he gripped her hips, thrusting into her slowly but urgently. She gasped when he palmed her ass and pulled her close enough that her nipples brushed his chest with each movement.
He was panting but had a little smirk on his face and Iris was suddenly very fond of the prince. More than could be explained as fondness for someone you’d saved from death. She swallowed back any words and instead kissed him, nipping at his bottom lip when he slowed down to rub at her clit.
“Why did you slow down?” she asked, almost angry that she was falling back from her approaching climax.
“I know that you don’t think we should do this,” he admitted, his hips just barely moving. It was enough to keep her aroused but not enough to really get her going. It was infuriating.
“Maybe not, but I don’t want to stop,” she said seriously. He kissed her neck slowly, trailing his nose along the side when she sighed.
“Then I before we continue, I want you to know that, this can be whatever you want it to be. You’re holding the cards right now,” he told her. Iris’s breath caught. People who gave up negotiations, or in this case sexual reins, were more than likely happy with whatever it might be. So what did he want? A repeat? One night and that was it? Or, dare she think it, something more permanent.
“For now, Your Highness, I just want you tonight and maybe in the morning, if I’m not too sore,” she said easily enough. He nodded with a grin of his own and flipped them over so that she was on her back. He spread her legs to give himself more room and plunged inside her once again in measure strokes. It was nothing rough, but Iris could feel passion like he was giving it to her more than he was giving her pleasure, though he was giving plenty of that.
She pulled him down so that their skin met and sighed with pleasure. He was truly giving it to her at this point, but Iris needed more, she wanted something from him that she wasn’t sure she could ask for.
“I’m close,” he warned her, and Iris, reached down and rubbed at her clit and breathed out.
“Come inside me. Don’t pull out,” she begged.
She was expecting an argument maybe him pulling out summarily and leaving her to face the many assassins on his own. But he didn’t do that or anything like that. Instead, he came right that second and Iris could tell by his face that he was just as shocked as she, but she couldn’t even share a look with him about it, because she came herself from the sensation of his come flooding her.
He wrapped his arms around her when they both came down from their orgasms he buried his face in her neck and pulled out slowly, wincing as he did so. The bed was a mess and they were both more than a little tired, but Iris smiled dopily and ran her fingers through his hair.
She laughed when he pulled away to stare at her.
“You’re very dangerous, you know? I mean, I thought I could hold on but how could I after that?” he asked. She pulled him in for a kiss and murmured against his lips.
“I just really wanted that from you.” she admitted.
“Why?” he asked her, a hand tracing her stomach with one finger.
“I know that when you’re safe we’ll never really be allowed to do anything like this again. And I would never risk your reputation or your right to fatherhood by having a child out of wedlock, but it’s nice to imagine it,” she whispered. “A fantasy, nothing more.”
The prince was silent for a while and Iris wondered if she might have ruined everything. Maybe he would rather take his chances with assassins, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret telling him the truth of her feelings.
“You mean that?” he asked, his voice muffled and sleepy. Iris turned so that she could face him and kissed the inside of his wrist.
him. He was silent before he spoke again, directly into her ear, a gentle whisper“Barry. My name is Barry,” he said. Her eyes widened at that admission. But she decided to give her own name, a true exchange of trust.
“Iris,” she said.
And maybe it was all her imagination, but she could swear that somewhere, things were aligning the way they were destined too. That the universe was waiting for them to officially meet. Perhaps there really was power in names.