The first thought you had upon waking was that you weren't in your own bed. It took a few moments for your sleep-muddled mind to remember where you were and why you were there; you were in Arno’s bed, in his bedroom above the Café Théâtre because he had insisted you stay there for the night rather than walk home alone in the dark.
You sighed and stretched widely before getting out of the bed. At first you had thought Arno’s offer was an invitation for you to spend the night with him (something you had admittedly been very keen to do for a while now) so you had quite readily accepted, only to have your hopes dashed once he announced he would be out all night dealing with Assassin business.
“I see no reason the bed should go unused tonight, mon amie. It will be safer for you to stay here rather than venture out alone,” he had so gentlemanly insisted.
So here you were, awakening in Arno’s room dressed only in your chemise and regretfully alone. Judging from the way the sunlight shone through the windows it was still quite early. You padded over to the glass door that led to the small roof garden and opened it, allowing the cool morning air to drift in. As you expected there was no one tending to the garden at this hour, and the street below was much quieter than usual; it was pleasantly calm for a change.
“I think I'll have a few more moments of rest,” you said to yourself, leaving the door open and heading back inside to lay on the bed, closing your eyes as you sank into the mattress.
The scent of Arno was all around you and it was glorious. You'd always found his scent intoxicating; a mix of espresso and red wine laced with a certain something that was unique to Arno. At night you'd try your hardest to remember his scent as you lost yourself in fantasies of him in bed with you, imagining that it was his fingers bringing you to orgasm instead of your own.
Breathing in deeply you began to feel a familiar heat pooling in your stomach. “Come on, this is not the place for that,” you hissed, biting your lip and willing your libido to calm down but it was if your hands had a mind of their own as one made its way down between your legs and the other began to gently tease one of your nipples through the fabric of your chemise.
Well...it is still early, and I'm sure Arno won't be back for a while, you reasoned with a lust-addled mind. I can indulge myself this once.
You let your eyes slip closed as you slowly rolled the hardening peak of your nipple between your fingers, your favourite Arno-based fantasy starting to play out in your head…
You're in your bedroom, sitting on your bed reading when Arno suddenly climbs through your open window.
“Arno?!” you gasp in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
He doesn't reply, instead choosing to cross the room in long strides towards you. You open your mouth to repeat your question but your words are silenced by Arno’s lips against yours.
The kiss is gentle at first; his soft, full lips move against yours slowly and draw small moans from you as your eyes flutter closed. His kisses change, becoming hot and eager as his tongue licks at your bottom lip and demands entrance. You're only too happy to comply, allowing the dexterous muscle to slip between your parted lips and meet with your own as your hands tangle in his hair to hold him closer.
Your fingers moved against your clit in tight circles as you lost yourself in the fantasy, despite that little voice in the back of your head telling you that you really shouldn't be doing this in Arno’s bed of all places.
His lips press against your throat eagerly as he works his fingers inside of you. He moans lustfully as you arch wantonly against his naked body, your nipples to scraping against the firm muscles of his chest and stiffening at the friction.
“You feel so good,” Arno whispers between open-mouthed kisses to your heated skin. “So wet and ready for me.”
“Yes, Arno,” you gasp. “I need you.”
You pinched your nipple firmly, hissing a breath at the pleasure/pain sensation the action created. Any rational thoughts had now long disappeared; your mind was filled with the fantasy of Arno fucking you, of how his hard length would feel inside of you; your fingers were a poor substitute for what you truly craved but they would have to do. You were so, so close to falling over the edge in ecstasy and you moved your fingers faster, desperate for your release to wash over you and leave you in a satisfied haze of bliss.
“My, this is certainly a welcome sight to return home to.”
The sudden sound of an all too familiar voice had your eyes snapping open and your hands darting away from their current intimate locations to pull the blanket over your lap as you jolted up.
“Merde!” you squeaked, feeling your face heat up and turn red from the sheer embarrassment at being caught masturbating by the very person who was the star of your fantasy. “Arno! I’m so sorry!” You couldn’t even bring yourself to so much as glance anywhere but at your lap, wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole. “I-I know I shouldn’t have been doing...that, but I, well, I...erm...you see-”
A soft laugh from Arno cut off your babbling. “I should be the one to apologise,” he said. “After all, I so very rudely interrupted you.”
His unexpected words made you finally look at him. He was standing by the bottom of the bed, leaning against the wooden frame of it with his arms folded, a smirk on his face and a very obvious erection straining against his breeches.
“Oh?” It was all you could think to say, caught off-guard by his casual reaction and apparent arousal. “Well, erm...apology accepted?”
He grinned wickedly at you. “Glad to hear it,” he purred. “Now that we've cleared that up, why don't you continue with your...task?”
Wait, what? Surely he wasn't serious? Yet the heated gaze he was giving you as he palmed his hard length through his clothing suggested that he was indeed serious in his suggestion, causing an unexpected jolt of arousal to shoot through you. Arno wanted to watch you touch yourself, and apparently that really turned you on.
Heat blooming once again in your core you returned his salacious grin with one of your own. “If you so graciously insist, Monsieur Dorian, but I must first make myself a little more comfortable,” you said as innocently as you could, as if you were discussing nothing more interesting than the weather, throwing the blanket off of you and lifting your chemise up and over your head to leave you completely naked.
A small, lustful moan sounded from Arno as you moved your legs to expose yourself to him, ensuring he had the view he clearly desired. Keeping your eyes focused on his, you skimmed a hand down your body towards your clit once again, briefly tugging at one of your peaked nipples and gasping at just how much more pleasurable the action felt with Arno watching your every move.
“God.” Arno’s voice was strained as he watched you slide your fingers up and down either side of your hardened nub. Your eyes fluttered closed and you lay back onto the bed, moving your fingers faster and rubbing small, tight circles over your clit. You’d already been so close to orgasm before Arno had returned and it didn’t take long for you to reach the same dizzying heights. You felt the mattress dip slightly under you and upon opening your eyes you were greeted with the sight of a very naked Arno kneeling between your splayed thighs, ruddy cock in hand as he pumped himself slowly.
“I don’t know what I want more,” he rasped, eyes clouded over with lust as he stared at you beneath him. “To fill you up with my cock and fuck you or to cum across that pretty face of yours after I make you scream with my tongue on your cunt.”
“Fuck.” Sparks of wanton desire shot through you as you imagined him doing either one. “Both. Either. I don’t care, I just need you, Arno,” you mewled desperately, reaching for him.
He leaned over you and kissed you hungrily, growling deeply as you tugged at the ribbon in his hair to let it cascade down over his shoulders. His kisses were so much better than anything you could have ever imagined with his soft, full lips sliding smoothly across your own and his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. All of your nerve endings were on fire as your fingers continued to move frantically against your swollen bud. “Arno...please,” you begged against his lips.
“What do you want? Tell me,” he whispered harshly, easily pushing two of his fingers into your moist heat and making you arch of the bed with a cry. “I want you to tell me.”
“Aah! I want...God, Arno,” you babbled, unable to form a coherent sentence thanks to Arno’s lips trailing down your neck towards your breasts and his fingers inside of you. “M-make me cum, I don’t care how you do it, just please make me cum!”
Arno hummed and moved his head back up to kiss you, his hair tickling your face as it fell around you. You held his face in your hands to deepen the kiss, making a small noise of disappointment as he broke the kiss and slipped his fingers out of your cunt.
“Patience, ma bichette,” he said, chuckling at your pouting and gripping your hips to pull you closer to him. “You will have your wish.” He rubbed his cock against your wet slit, coating himself in your arousal before entering you in one smooth thrust.
You were certain the sounds that you made could be heard in the streets below, but you really didn’t care. All that mattered was Arno; how he felt inside of you, how he looked above you. He gave you a moment to adjust before he began to move slowly, gradually bringing you back to the edge of the orgasm that you had been teetering on all morning.
“More,” you rasped, wrapping your legs around Arno’s waist and tangling your hands in his hair to bring him closer. “I need more, please.”
Arno grunted in response and moved faster, the bed shaking slightly beneath you under the force of his thrusts. “Like this?”
“Yes, yes, holy shit, YES!” Your orgasm finally hit you like a maelstrom, causing you to cry out as lights exploded behind your eyelids and the walls of your cunt clenched deliciously around Arno’s cock. You felt so wonderfully sated, bringing Arno’s face closer to yours and kissing him with fervour.
“That was wonderful,” you breathed, gently running your fingers through his hair as his thrusts slowed back to their gentle pace. “Now it's your turn.” You gave him a wicked smile. “On your back, Dorian.”
“Are you always this demanding?” Arno asked, pulling out of you and doing as you'd instructed. “Not that I'm complaining.”
“I should hope not,” you replied, settling your legs either side of Arno’s hips and leaning your hands onto his firm chest as you sank down onto his thick cock. “Anyone would think you weren't enjoying yourself.”
“Oh, believe me, I am definitely enjoying myself,” Arno hissed, a guttural moan sounding from his throat as you began to rock your hips. His hands cupped your arse and squeezed, helping to guide your movements upon him. He looked positively sinful underneath you, his skin flushed and coated with a sheen of sweat, his hair fanned out on the pillows his head was resting on.
Arno moved his hands to your hips, holding you tightly and urging you to move faster. “Don't stop, don't stop, I'm so close…” he begged, his own hips lifting off of the bed as he thrusted blindly upwards, his body acting of its own accord to seek the blissful release it craved. “Mon Dieu…!”
Arno stiffened, his eyes clenched tightly shut and crying out your name as his cum spilled inside of you. His hands gripped your hips almost painfully; you were certain there would be bruises there by day’s end but it would certainly be worth it.
After taking a moment to catch your breath you shifted to lay down next to Arno, grimacing slightly at the stickiness between your thighs and wondering if you'd be able to get a chance to soak in his bath before you got dressed.
“Hey.” Arno’s voice cuts through the comfortable silence and he turns to look at you. “Are you okay?”
You nod, smiling widely at him. “Of course. Do you have any idea how long I've wanted that?”
Arno laughed softly. “Were you thinking about us doing that when I caught you?” he asked, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
“I always think about you and I when I do that,” you said. “It’s usually it's the same fantasy each time.”
Arno leaned up on an elbow to look down at you, a hand coming to rest on your ribcage. “Oh? Maybe you'd like to tell me about it, so I can fulfil it for you next time?”
Your heart fluttered excitedly in your chest. “So there's going to be a next time?”
“Ma bichette, there will be many next times if I have my way,” he growled, rolling you onto your back and settling once again between your legs before dipping his head to kiss you passionately. “Now, tell me about this fantasy. I am most eager to hear it…”