[He's heard stories of King Graves' magic, his power. That his kingdom not only accepts it, but practices it too.
His fingers continue to trace his own mouth, eyelids heavy as his breathing evens back out. If that was magic, if kissing always felt that way, Credence worried that he'd become addicted to it. That he'd want his husband to always kiss him. He was still too frightened to understand that it wasn't wrong to want that.
Credence looks down at their linked fingers in a daze. The kiss, he's not prepared for it, no, but it feels just as good, sends sparks through his body. This time his tongue darts out to chase the now absent pressure and warmth, licking and tasting without thought as to what he's doing.]
You're not supposed to.
[He dips his head to the side, swallowing roughly as he pulls his hand free. Credence puts both between them, pressed to Graves' chest to keep him from leaning in again. He closes his eyes tight, counts in his head to calm down, reminding himself of the most important things he needs to remember.
Percival Graves is a King. He could have anyone he wanted, even now that they're married. He can do whatever he wants. It's been almost ten minutes that they've been together and he still hasn't taken him. He could have pushed in, quick and rough, fucked him hard and left him already. But he hasn't. He goes slow. Makes his lips tingle and his body ache. He could be anywhere else, doing whatever else, but he's offering Credence patience and pleasure. He slides one hand up Graves chest, fingers light, dancing softly up his neck. Credence traces an eyebrow, thumb rolling down the length of his nose. The tip of his finger marks out the shape of Graves' upper lip.] Okay.
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His fingers continue to trace his own mouth, eyelids heavy as his breathing evens back out. If that was magic, if kissing always felt that way, Credence worried that he'd become addicted to it. That he'd want his husband to always kiss him. He was still too frightened to understand that it wasn't wrong to want that.
Credence looks down at their linked fingers in a daze. The kiss, he's not prepared for it, no, but it feels just as good, sends sparks through his body. This time his tongue darts out to chase the now absent pressure and warmth, licking and tasting without thought as to what he's doing.]
You're not supposed to.
[He dips his head to the side, swallowing roughly as he pulls his hand free. Credence puts both between them, pressed to Graves' chest to keep him from leaning in again. He closes his eyes tight, counts in his head to calm down, reminding himself of the most important things he needs to remember.
Percival Graves is a King. He could have anyone he wanted, even now that they're married. He can do whatever he wants. It's been almost ten minutes that they've been together and he still hasn't taken him. He could have pushed in, quick and rough, fucked him hard and left him already. But he hasn't. He goes slow. Makes his lips tingle and his body ache. He could be anywhere else, doing whatever else, but he's offering Credence patience and pleasure. He slides one hand up Graves chest, fingers light, dancing softly up his neck. Credence traces an eyebrow, thumb rolling down the length of his nose. The tip of his finger marks out the shape of Graves' upper lip.] Okay.