Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11364879.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Fire_Emblem_Series, Fire_Emblem_Echoes:_Mou_Hitori_no_Eiyuu_Ou_|_Fire
      Emblem_Echoes:_Shadows_of_Valentia
  Relationship:
      Anthiese_|_Celica/Savor_|_Saber, Celica/Saber
  Character:
      Anthiese_|_Celica, Savor_|_Saber
  Additional Tags:
      Smut, really_heavy_smut, Table_Sex, Multiple_Orgasms, Multiple_Creampies,
      Age_Difference, Lemon, drunk, ish?, inebriated, Alcohol, Chair_Sex,
      Tavern_Sex, Seduction, Nightgown, switch_-_Freeform, Older_man, Teenager,
      Kissing, Making_Out, heavy_kissing, emphasis_on_heavy, Creampie, virgin,
      Loss_of_Virginity
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-07-01 Chapters: 3/5 Words: 8628
****** Mutual Alleviation ******
by WaddleBuff
Summary
     Saber pays Celica's room a visit during a resting period in Zofia
     Harbor. With some wine and laughter, the relaxed pair realize they
     both want something from each other. And it doesn't take long for
     that want to turn into need.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Celica had to stifle a laugh, biting down into the wood of her tankard. Across
from her, the mercenary she had hired a few weeks ago attempted to drunkenly
recite some ancient Zofian poem he had heard from a priest. Her eyes were half-
lidded but her pupils still shone as brightly as the earrings that twinkled in
the candlelight of the room.
"You've impressed me, enough, Saber. You can stop trying now," Celica said,
finally cracking up as Saber sat in genuinely confused silence for a few
seconds, his eye squinting in hard recollection.
He looked at her then, that roguish grin of his curled on his lips.
"Then you don't need much to be impressed, lass."
"Celica, please," she said, absentmindedly placing a reassuring hand on Saber's
arm. She kept it there as she took another swig of wine, not noticing the look
Saber gave her, nor the fire that tingled on his skin.
This was the second night Saber had visited her room.
After several weeks of seafaring, hacking and blasting their way through pirate
raid after pirate raid, and sieging a pirate king himself, Celica had decided
that the party needed a well-earned rest once they reached Zofia Port. With
that, the five of them had settled on an inn located above the town's tavern
(suggested, of course, by Saber).
Each of the rooms were spacious, housing a bed in the corner next to windows
looking down upon the busy seaport streets, a small desk in the opposite
corner, and a wash basin with its respective stand. In the corner of the upper
floor was a communal bathroom, one that Celica had stayed in for far too long
the first night they stayed there.
And when she was finally satisfied, she had walked back to her room,
contentedly wringing out her hair with a towel to find Saber in front of her
room, a tall dark glass of wine in one hand, two wooden tankards in the other.
At first, she was hesitant. Sure, she had fought with Saber in the past weeks,
but he was still a relative stranger, a much older one at that. He easily could
have ulterior motives for wanting to share a celebratory drink in her room.
Besides that, she wasn't sure she could trust any wine that wasn't made from
the grapes of Novis, aged to perfection in the catacombs of the monastery.
But an hour after she took Saber up on his offer, and she found herself
surprisingly relaxed, amused, and, for the first time since the forest strolls
with Alm as a child, carefree. Saber was a much more entertaining man that she
had first assumed. That hard-edged, all-business mercenary melted away once a
few sips of alcohol slipped into him (which was not half-bad by Celica's
standards; apparently, it was fabled "Ram wine" that he kept a few bottles of
in his knapsack).
The Saber who joked and grinned mischievously in front of her that night was
hilarious and an expert at helping Celica forget that the weight of the world
was quite literally on her shoulders. But the thing that surprised her the most
was that on top of all of that, the older one-eyed man was surprisingly
charming.
When he joked, she couldn't help but joke back. And when he drunkenly let slip
a flirt, Celica couldn't help but slip out a flirt in response.
She could feel his eyes linger and wander when she wasn't looking; the white
nightgown she wore in her room wasn't exactly the most modest article of
clothing in her possession. And she prayed to gods he didn't feel hers when she
admired to strong lines of his face, the sinews of his bared biceps usually
concealed with armor. Maybe it was the alcohol that night, but Celica could
swear that she felt something that she rarely felt around Saber, amongst other
things that she could never feel or talk about in the stuffy halls of the
monastery.
So, before Saber left that night, mere minutes before the sun broke from the
watery curtains of the sea, she asked if he could come back the next night. He
gave her a look of surprise, but then he gave her that roguish grin that made
her heart feel like she was committing a crime before he said, "Anything for
you, priestess."
The next morning, a miniature headache echoing in her skull, Celica couldn't
help but already look forward to the evening. As it drew closer and closer
during the day, she found herself feeling self-conscious around Saber as the
party did shopping errands and explored the seaport. Occasionally he would
crack a joke that nobody understood other than her. He would wink at her, as if
it was a dirty little secret, and, without fail, Celica would grin at him with
a small blush.
Whatever she was feeling, it felt wrong and right all at once, and she missed
that sensation of utter liberty in the atmosphere Saber created the night
before. Her hand absentmindedly clutched her turnwheel more than once that day
when her heart confusedly hammered in her chest.
Finally, the night arrived, and just as planned, Saber knocked on her door with
yet another bottle of Ram wine and two wooden tankards. Celica's hands were
clammy and she felt nervous for a reason unknown to her as she stood behind
that door. With her nightgown, she had decided to wear the hair band she
usually wore, along with the two earrings gifted to her by Nomah when she was a
child.
Unbeknownst to her, the auburn-haired man that stood on the other side of the
door was as nervous as she was.
Saber stood there, gripping the alcohol and the cups with his heart pounding.
What was he even doing here?
At first, he really did mean the words that he spat at her during their
journey. He was only in this for the money. But soon…she had caught his
interest because of how much he looked like her little sister, the sister he
had left behind. And beyond that, the way she swung her sword, the flame behind
her eyes…and the way she joked or the way she had looked at him the night
before…Saber felt something inside that had been dormant for years.
What it was, he didn't want to acknowledge. And the strange guilt he felt as
she opened the door and he felt his heart skip when he saw her in that
nightgown again, that could wait another time.
Regardless of the collective nervousness, the two occupants of Celica's room
drank on, carefree. Soon, that nervousness dissipated. There was laughter,
jokes, but there was something else. There was a strange tension between them
that felt like it had been built and fermented for the past weeks. Like a
winding spring about to violently snap and explode.
From Celica's side, that tension was due to her sheltered upbringing. Lewd
curiosity mixed with the need to relieve stress no girl her age should ever be
burdened with.
From Saber's, the tension was just due to Celica herself. Unlike the priestess,
he had felt this before, and acted on it more times than he could count. But to
be so physically close to her, a girl so regal, untouched, and pure…the
thoughts that began to run through his intoxicated head were dastardly.
But the night went on, and the bottle of Ram wine began to empty.
Just like the night before, Celica felt carefree. And soon, for the first time
in forever, she finally felt independent. Grown-up.
Which was why, an hour or two after they had several tankards of wine with the
blush of alcohol on their cheeks, when Celica felt that strange, heated
sensation in her belly, she didn't feel scared.
She leaned rested her cheek on her palm as Saber recounted a story detailing a
hilarious escort he once had. In that moment, with the way the light flickered
softly on his face, the way it danced on his mouth, and how strong his hands
looked when the action of his narrative needed some demonstration, Celica
couldn't help but feel her pulse go a little faster.
Was she letting the alcohol cloud her judgment as she bit down on her lip,
letting her face leave her hand? Probably.
Would she regret it later as she quietly leaned over to the mercenary whose
attention was wholly preoccupied with his story? Also, probably.
Did the fire in her stomach explode into a hot sensation she had never felt
before as her hand grasped the side of his surprised face and she pressed her
soft, needy lips against his? Yes. Most definitely, yes.
And did she want to stop as the kiss deepened, and she felt him kiss her back
with his hand grabbing the back of her head?
No. Most definitely not.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Summary
     After considerable tension, Celica invitingly bares herself to Saber,
     much to both parties' surprise and enthusiasm.
Breaking free from his drunken stupor, Saber gained enough self-control to grab
Celica's shoulders and push her away.
"Wh-What do you think you're doing there, lass?"
Saber gulped at the way she looked at him, innocent blush on her soft cheeks,
lips wet, eyes fiery and hungry.
After a moment of hesitation, Celica spoke, almost in a whisper.
"I'm doing what I want."
Saber let out a scoff. An uncharacteristically-nervous one.
"Well, that's not very priestessy of you, now is it?"
"You'll find that there are many aspects of me that don't fall in line with
your preconceptions, Mr. Mercenary."
Celica closed the distance between their mouths again, but before he could
fight back, there was a scrape of a chair against wood, and he felt the young
girl straddle his lap. The pressure of her weight against the tension that was
rising in his pants made him grunt. Celica's soft, soft fingers pressed against
the back of Saber's head as her kisses intoxicated him more than the Ram wine
ever could.
He didn't know why she was doing this or if she even should, but the way that
she pressed her breasts against his neck, tilting his mouth upwards to
interlock with hers…he'd be lying if this wasn't the best he's felt in years.
Saber gently kissed her back as she cradled his head. Her lips were
inexperienced, but hungry. He knew he could satisfy what young needs she had;
gods knew he wanted to. He let the girl kiss her like that, letting her control
what his mouth parried, letting her hands grip him while his lay limp at his
sides. He felt her breasts push up on him closer and the want to reach out and
slip under the flimsy frills of her nightgown grew more urgent.
It was obvious now that the fire that had awoken in him the night before, the
tension that had been silently building whenever he looked at her during those
weeks at sea was mutual. And as that fire began to kindle and rage inside of
him, Saber began to realize just how much he wanted her, and what his hands
wanted to do to her.
Meanwhile, Celica's drunken actions surprised her. Was she mad? She had never
kissed anyone, much less kissed them this…intimately. And with someone she
barely knew!
She didn't know how old he was (probably twice the number of her years). She
didn't know much about him except the hundreds of travels he fared. She didn't
even know where he was from.
She suddenly felt the comfortable warmth on her mouth leave her. Her eyes
fluttered open in surprise, breaths short.
"Lass…" Saber said, soberly. He took one of the hands off his face, clutching
it with his own. Celica's eyes were hazy, but she could see his pupil shimmered
in the same way, if not moreso. "Do you really want to do this? You barely know
me. I barely know you. Shouldn't this be saved for someone…special?"
Celica's pulse raced faster. It was as if he read her mind. He had a good
point, and she knew that this definitely wasn't the most responsible thing to
do. Who knew that she, a priestess of Mila, the very object of purity, would
have been the one to even initiate this situation?
A million things ran through her mind then, but again she felt that unfamiliar
fire in her stomach. It was spreading through her loins. Her eyes wandered to
Saber's arms again, the broad chest that took an arrow for her sake during a
pirate raid the week before.
And suddenly, with determined clarity, she slipped her hand from his. Deftly
she reached atop her scalp and ripped off the hairband keeping her scarlet
curls in check, throwing it aside to the floor. With a flourish she whipped her
hair about, letting it flow freely.
Saber gulped at the sight. Stray candlelight framed her hair. Her scarlet eyes
burned brightly below the line of her bangs, burning with what Saber now
recognized as young lust.
She looked older, wilder. The curls that cascaded to her shoulders were
uncharacteristically free of any restraint. Yet her eyes were resolute and
almost…regal in the way they defied his.
"Celica, is my name. And I would appreciate it if you called me that. I've told
you that I wanted this. Wanted you. So, don't go around thinking that I am just
a young girl who's in over her head," she said before hiccupping. A blush
spread onto her cheeks, and Saber couldn't help but smirk.
He could see that she was about to say something else. But Saber didn't let a
second pass before his hand gripped the back of her neck, pulling her mouth to
his. She squeaked in surprise, to which the mercenary let his other hand
finally smooth itself up her thigh. The squeak turned into a whimper.
He didn't need to hold back now. She was right; she was old enough to make her
own decisions. She wanted him, simple as that. And as Celica shifted her weight
in his lap, rubbing against his rigidness again, he was reminded of how much he
wanted her too.
The kisses were all directed by Saber now. Her small, soft lips struggled to
keep up with the pace of his coarser, more experienced ones. He reveled in the
way her hot breaths mingled with the roof of his mouth. He savored the taste of
wine that her mouth still held. The hand behind her neck began to crawl upwards
slightly, digging itself into her hair. He tightened the grip teasingly,
earning a breathy sigh.
Meanwhile, his other hand did the same before smoothing down again. He always
admired her legs, what little she exposed. Saber's mind remembered their creamy
complexion below her battle-skirt. And now, those thighs were under his touch.
He would enjoy this as much as he could before the night was over.
Celica breathed hard through her nose. In Mila's name, she never knew the mere
act of kissing could get her so excited. She was planting sloppy, juttering
pecks before but what Saber was doing to her now, it was demanding, a dance
with a tempo that she could barely keep up with. She felt his goatee brush
against her chin every few seconds but she was too preoccupied with how his
lips tasted to care. Again and again their lips clasped and unclasped, moist
breaths making love between their tongues. It felt like Saber wanted to devour
her, and at this point, Celica would have let him.
As the kisses grew deeper and more intense, Saber dared the hand at her thigh
to slide into her nightgown. Before she could stop him, his hand was around her
plump rear. She gave a surprised whimper and tried to pull away from him, but
his other hand behind her head kept her captive. She had no choice but to
bounce and writhe on top of him, that motion merely making the man below her
more aroused by the second. His hand squeezed under all of that lace, feeling
the warm softness of her hidden skin with a thirsty grasp.
This went on for more than a minute until Celica's own hands began to wander.
Her dainty fingers trailed down his thick neck, brushing over his shoulders
until her palms meandered down his biceps. She felt her breath hitch at the
definition of them, at how thick his arms were. She couldn't control her grip
as she started squeezing, admiring every weathered line of Saber's muscle. She
moved on to his chest, disappointed at the cloth that covered it.
Saber wanted to be more daring still, about to let go of a squeeze that would
dig his fingernails into Celica's unblemished ass when he started to feel her
nail clawing at him.
He opened his eye, seeing hers half-lidded but pleading.
He knew what she wanted.
Their mouths finally separated, glistening with shared saliva, hot with want.
They shared a look. Saber retracted his hand from behind her, letting the
coarse, calloused fingers run along her thigh. Celica's chest rose and fell,
and she fought back from biting her lip as the hand behind her hair also
retracted. With a swift upwards stroke, Saber tore the tight shirt off his
body. He let the young girl inspect him, smiling cockily at how her eyes
widened at all of his scars, the definition of his muscle.
He expected her to trail her fingers across his softly heaving chest, but
instead she brought her hands to her left earlobe, with the obvious intention
of taking off the glistening gold of her earrings.
"Wait!" Saber said, shooting out a hand to grab her wrist. "Keep them on…"
She gave him a strange look, but she smiled, leaning forward and letting her
palms rest on his pecs. Her scarlet eyes looked mischievous and horny and
nervous all at once.
"As long as you keep that hideous eyepatch of yours on, you pirate."
Saber could swear he felt a chill run down his spine as her hot breaths wisped
achingly over his mouth.
"Deal."
With that, Celica's lips were on his again. The coldness of the surrounding
room dissipated once her hands finally rested on his chest. He felt her
curious, inexperienced fingers fumble and draw circles, sketching lines and
softly digging etchings. His own hands began to run up and down her bare arms.
He felt the goosebumps below his skin. But the skin was still smooth, the
smoothest skin he'd ever touched, and he was positive that no other man had
ever touched it.
Her kisses started to match his now. Her head shifted from side to side,
breaths leaving the small gap between their lips. Saber deigned to heave
through his nostrils; he could inhale her scent, smell the sweet mix of her
skin and something akin to honey. He realized the hands that he had running up
and down her arms were already going down her back. The nightgown was so thin
he could feel the heat radiate pulsing off her skin.
Celica couldn't believe how lustful she was being. It was as if she couldn't
control her mouth as it open and closed and puckered against Saber's; kissing
felt good. Too good. Like some sort of dark spell from a Rigelian cultist.
Then there was how solid Saber felt under her hardness of his chest and the way
his muscles seemed to shift with effort just to appreciate her made her skin
feel like it was on fire. She felt so utterly naughty at letting this man touch
like her like this. Her breaths came out short and fast at the feeling of his
large hands smoothing down her hips.
Those hands began bunching up her nightgown from behind now, leaving her rear
exposed. The lace band of her panties were suddenly breached…slowly and slowly
as his fingers slipped furtively inside. She let out another moan into his
mouth, feeling it echo into her lips as his hands finally fully grasped her
asscheeks.
Nobody had ever been there before, ever even touched that area. It was so
sensitive and the skin unblemished. As Saber groped her rear, squeezing it with
such enthusiastic vigor…the physical contact didn't just make her blush, but
the fact that he was enjoying it as much as he did.
Then, as Celica thought her heart couldn't pound any faster, her eyes shot open
as something hot and wet slipped past her lips. She was forced to open her lips
wider, whimpering at whatever it was that now tangled between her teeth. To
make it worse, Saber was now grabbing her rear in earnest. She felt his nails
painfully dig into her soft, plump ass, making her entire body grind against
him. She could feel his erection poke at her stomach through his trousers, as
if reminding her of his needs.
It took her a few seconds to realize that Saber had shoved his tongue into her
mouth. The taste of wine flooded her sense then, and strange as it was, Celica
began to close her eyes at the sensation and found that she loved it. Her own
tongue fought back, trying to parry the circles and lashes Saber flicked in her
mouth. It was a heated struggle, one that gave off sparks of pleasure as warm,
collective saliva began to dribble between their mouths.
Normally the notion of this would have been so strange to Celica, maybe even
disgusting. But having Saber overpower her like this, his mouth and tongue
wanting to taste every inch of hers felt taboo in all the right ways. Soon he
began to retract the appendage, deigning to kiss her passionately, separating
for only the briefest of moments until his tongue and hers were wrestling,
tousling with need. In one of those in-between moments, Celica realized two
things:
1. How wet she was.
2. How her hips were moving of their own accord, instinctively rubbing her core
against the tent pitched in Saber's pants.
It took her a while to also notice that her hands were hugging Saber's head, as
if he would try to escape without her fingers' grip.
But as Saber sat there, with this young, 17-year-old priestess grinding against
his arousal, thighs bare with her elegant nightgown hitched up all the way to
her waist, he wouldn't escape even if it meant a fat pouch of gold was in it
for him.
He was surprised that he didn't even have to push her body against his anymore;
her hips bucked naively, without any of the expert coordination he had
experienced with the many women he'd made love to. He just didn't expect them
to be in this position when less than half an hour ago, all they exchanged were
jokes and the occasional flirt. And here they were tangled on top of a chair,
swapping heat and dribble.
Saber hadn't felt this aroused from mere kissing since he was a teenager. He
kept his eyes open slightly. She was so into it, so keen on learning how to
pleasure him, how to pleasure herself. The way her small tongue fought back
against his felt oh-so-dirty, indicators of her age. His hands had since left
the haven of her warm ass, and instead he contentedly ran them up and down her
silky thighs. He swore to gods he couldn't get enough of how they felt beneath
his touch, soft, plump with a hint of electricity that made his cock twitch.
He couldn't even remember the last time he was this hard.
The kisses continued relentlessly. Saliva pooled between their chins, the clear
spittle soaking Saber's auburn goatee before dripping between them, splattering
on his abs. Celica's little mouth sucked and swallowed like his tongue was
oxygen Instead of intakes of air, Celica would moan her mewling, teenage moans.
Her brows furrowed in concentration as she learned, hungered for more. They
would separate for air with satisfying smacks, lips empty without each other,
before again their mouths would continue to be intrinsically inseparable.
Saber could feel drops of sweat roll down his neck. He felt how painful his
erection strained against his trousers, the pre-cum at the tip collecting in
the fabric. Then, he felt one of Celica's naughty, dainty little hands grasp
that boner, and tentatively begin to stroke it.
He separated from her then, letting out a moan that was more of a roar. A
string of saliva stretched out between their lips like a bridge before breaking
in the center. Celica had stopped her hips from moving. Both of their eyes
locked.
Saber's hands gripped her thighs tightly as he gritted his teeth. Now both of
her hands were on Saber's clothed erection, up and down, her palm pressing
against his straining head.
"Lass…if you keep doing that," Saber said breathlessly, heaving with effort.
"then I can't promise that I can stop what's to come. Augh…" he stopped,
shutting his eye, tortured by his own libido as a pulse ran through it. "I'm
going to do things to you that you're not prepared for. I'm going to use you
like a plaything. I've been eyeing you for weeks, lass, and I'm going to pour
into you everything that I've imagined."
Celica held his gaze. Her own lips, tired and maybe bruised, lay agape. She
breathed hard, sweat already beginning to appear in droplets on her clavicle.
Her earrings twinkled behind her curls of scarlet, and she let silence pervade
the space between them.
In reality, she was slightly nervous as her hands played with whatever
alien…thing twitched in Saber's trousers. But gods, she was wet. She had
experimented on herself before, obviously, but only with her fingers. Never
with toys, Mila forbid. And yet that large, long lusting thing that Saber
had…she was ever-so-curious how it would feel inside of her, curious if it
would scratch that strange itch that blazed inside of her core that never
blazed this bright before.
"I trust you are a man of your own word, then," Celica finally said, softly.
She was so addled with lust that it was hard to formulate anything clever.
"Because what you've listed, I want you to do to me. I've never felt the touch
of a man, never kissed, yet tonight I want to feel it all at once. I want to
feel what you've made others feel. Take me and show me what it's like to be a
woman. Try to break me, because I can assure you it will take more than a few
pathetic thrusts from a mercenary to crack my tenacity."
The words had tumbled carelessly from her lips, and Celica blushed the moment
she uttered them. What in Mila's name was she thinking? As someone of royal
blood, the monastery had always expected her words to never be minced, yet
always be elegant. Many a time she had said things without even thinking,
making them flowery and beautiful to fit her image. But now, that auto-speech
skill of hers was about to get her into a whole world of trouble.
She could see that her words were taking an instant effect on him. The fire on
his eye practically glowed now. Fear began to spread into that carnal-focused
mind of hers now.
But as she squealed when Saber growled and lifted her by her thighs to place
her on the table behind her, she couldn't help but feel wetter.
He seized her lips again. This time, rougher, more dominant. There was no
restraints, in fact, Celica had made it crystal clear that whatever he wanted
to do to her, she'd want it too.
She whimpered and moaned at the invasion of mouth. And squealed again into his
mouth when she suddenly felt his hand slip into her panties and start fingering
her core.
Just as Saber had guessed, the naughty priestess was damp, hot, and wanting.
His fingers firmly rubbed the outside of her virgin lips. He wanted to feel
just how much she wanted this, just how ready she was. And as those fingers
began to close in, one of them daring to wriggle inside of her, he knew that
the demands she gave earlier were the truth.
Celica attempted to pull back from his mouth, opening it with gasps of air. But
Saber merely pushed his entire body against his. The table beneath her
shivered. Her breath hitched as his strength forced her legs apart to grant him
some room. He punished her with his fingers digging deeper, working fiery magic
inside of her folds, curling upwards, thumb finding her swollen clit.
She had read a few novellas back in the monastery. Dirty, juvenile stories
written by traveling bards, confiscated from the younger monks by the high
priests. Usually in those stories, the men were always so mischievous yet
dashing. Always so teasing, driving the women in the stories to the brink with
their charm, making the young Celica blush, turning as red as her pupils.
Saber was not one of those men in the novellas.
As she finally separated from his lips, heaving for breath with her eyes
pleading, he didn't grin at her. Nor did he say anything charming. Instead he
looked at her with an eye of a hungry beast. His left hand was on her waist to
keep her in place as his right continued to roughly stimulate her, shoot
firecrackers of pleasure throughout her nerves. He wasn't one of those
seductive heroes she had read about, but as he introduced another finger inside
of her, stretching out her tightness more than she had ever done herself, she
wouldn't have it any other way.
She could hear them now, the soft squishes from below her. They got louder as
Saber dared to push in deeper. His eye was burning into hers and she could feel
his breaths, hot and wispy on her face. Like a dragon. Then she couldn't hear
the lewdness anymore as her throat let out noises she didn't even know she
could make; the novellas never told her mere fingers would feel this good.
There was a technique to the roughness Saber utilized. But she didn't care at
this point. His thumb kept rubbing on her clit that shocked her entire spine.
She was sweating at this point. She was sure of it. Her lips felt empty without
his and as they lay agape she couldn't form any words.
The tension between them mounted with every second that went by. Saber could
feel Celica begin to tighten. He could see her also begin to unravel, opening
up to him.
Her scent gripped him strongly now. That softness between her thighs beckoned
for his tongue.
He knew she wanted him to kiss her again, that cute little mouth was begging
for it, breathing hard and squeaking on cue every time he curled and twisted,
shoving fingers inside of her up to his knuckles. But he would refrain from
kisses now; he wanted to hear the priestess moan.
Finally, as he found a particular spot that made Celica shudder and hiccup in
her groans, he felt her begin to tighten. He felt the grasp of her small hands
on his wrist begin to grip with white knuckles, her brow furrowed in
concentration, eyes almost tearful, begging.
This was his moment.
He pulled his fingers out of her, letting the air cool her essence on his skin.
With no words, he grasped her panties from behind, rolling them off her legs.
She lifted her pert ass to allow it to easily slip past her thighs, falling
down to her ankles before crumpling to the floor. She was all his now.
Saber noted her shiver as he pressed his fingers to her core again. He swooped
in for her lips, enjoying how desperate she puckered them for him. But he
dodged her mouth, making her sigh in surprise as he sucked on her neck. He
didn't bite. That would be for later
He inhaled, breathing in the thick scarlet curls around him, kissing down her
white skin, sucking on her collarbone, tasting the slight tang of sweat. He
desperately wanted to rip off her nightgown and give her breasts the same
treatment, but he resisted. His hands traveled with him, moving down the sides
of her body, down her figure.
Before he knew it, Saber was face to face with her bare heat. It radiated her
lust and he could see its untouched nature. Just gazing upon it between her
thighs, the clear, syrupy fluid that pooled on the wood of the table beneath
her. It made him hard as a rock.
He kissed her thighs, giving a small nibble, feeling her shiver at that. He
reveled in the feeling of her fingers grabbing desperately at his hair like
reigns.
"Wh-What are you doing, Saber," Celica said, breathlessly, barely even
enunciating the words that escaped her lips.
He answered her by finally planting his mouth on her bare lips. He kissed them
like he kissed her mouth, pushing his tongue into her, swirling it, tasting
her.
"A-Ahh-" Celica moaned, cut off by her own pleasure. She pulled at his hair
now. The pain goaded him on as much as how she tasted.
Gods, this was impossible. He had been with dozens upon dozens of women. From
Rigel to Zofia, young and even older ones. But none of them tasted or smelled
this…delicious. He couldn't describe it, but with every second that he feasted
upon her virgin heat, he grew more harder, pulsing in desire. His hands were
digging into her ass now, nails probably digging imprints into her soft skin.
He felt like a beast unworthy of even being here, being between this priestess'
silky thighs, tongue buried into her untouched pinkness. He began to suck on
her clit, feeling Celica's entire body shake. He reintroduced his fingers, her
own threatening to make him bald. He didn't care. She was under his control
now. All of the lust she felt, it made her wetter, made her that much more
sumptuous. He kept sucking, kept kissing the bare lips of the tightest pussy he
had ever seen in his entire life.
She finally came. Stiffening, her body shuddered violently.
Celica's screams of bliss were cut short as the orgasm relentlessly crashed
through her. She breathlessly endured the bliss that threatened to carry her
away, feeling heat expunge itself into Saber's awaiting mouth. She felt like
crying. She felt like laughing. All at once the pleasure overwhelmed her more
than anything she had ever felt before.
Sweet Mila, how could she have graced anyone with pleasure this strong?
It was numbing. Her limbs couldn't move. She couldn't even talk.
And Saber didn't stop.
He kept sucking, kept goading for more from her. And more she gave. She
distantly felt his strong hands grab her buttocks again, the two fingers buried
inside her begin to spread like a pair of scissors, but by that point, another
series of waves crashed through her. Like a violent tide it cascaded through
her skin, through her flesh. Her moans pathetically left her mouth in hiccups.
She didn't notice Saber stand, nor notice that her hands were around his neck.
She was gasping for air, trying to recenter herself. His fingers never left her
moistness. They never let her rest.
Her desperate eyes only saw his own and how hungry they looked. From the corner
of her vision she saw him undo his trousers, pulling them down gruffly with one
hand. Something large and hard sprang forth. She didn't have time to properly
look at it as he held it steady with the hand that wasn't still digging
vigorously into her snatch.
"Lass," Celica heard faintly. "I'm at my breaking point. This might bring you
pain but- "
"Please just fuck me," she said, surprising herself. She bit her lip, feeling
her entire being melt. She just wanted this man inside of her, she just wanted
that pleasure to never end. And she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he
would make sure it didn't.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Summary
     Throwing caution to the wind, Saber takes Celica's purity, resulting
     in that unknown hunger to further blossom in the priestess' heart.
Fortunately, not a second passed before she felt his fingers leave and
instantly become replaced with something else. A flash of fear quickly sprinted
across her eyes until she felt the throbbing head of Saber push past her folds.
"Ah!" she moaned in surprise. Saber's strong hands kept her nightgown bundled
up above her belly, fingers wrapped around her waist to keep her steady.
Saber's grip around the girl almost made his knuckles white. He was afraid if
he clung too tightly to her she would break. Gods, she was tight. He still
couldn't believe this was happening. That innocent yet confident priestess that
had approached her in the tavern mere weeks ago, and here he was, his throbbing
cock about to taint her forever.
His breath shuddered in absolute bliss as he slowly eased himself inside. Every
inch that entered, Saber was afraid would be the last; she seemed too small to
even accommodate him. But he kept going. Deeper and deeper, Celica's heat
embraced him. Saber had to bite down on his lip to keep from groaning in
pathetic shudders. His head throbbed inside of her moist heat; he was positive
that if he didn't make a conscious effort to restrain himself, he would have
reached his climax then and there.
They kept their gazes locked. Their labored breaths seemed to synchronize as
their hearts hammered.
Finally, with one more last forceful push, Saber hilted himself.
Celica let out a loud gasp, shuddering. A few tears fell from her eyes. Her
shivers echoed through her body, shimmering around Saber's hardness as she let
out a succession of breaths. It felt so utterly full in a way she had never
felt before. There was pain that flared, a sensation that felt like she was
tearing at the seams. Instinctively her body kept shivering, trying to adjust
itself to Saber's throbbing arousal pulsing and stretching her inner folds.
Saber was in no better state. He took a moment, looking at his crotch and felt
another throb pulse through his hardness; the sight of her bare snatch wrapped
around him snugly, all the way to the base of his cock was like something from
a dream. Her clit was so pink and conspicuous, begging for stimulation.
He had to tear his gaze away lest the sight finished him then and there.
Returning it to Celica's face, he was surprised at how one thrust almost
completely changed her demeanor. She was panting, blush heavy on her cheeks
that obviously wasn't a product from the alcohol. Her eyes looked lost, hazy.
The candlelight glinted off small trails of tears on her cheeks. But what took
him aback was that there was something else roiling in her eyes. Something he
never would have expected from a virgin, much less Celica.
He had taken the virginities of too many girls, more than he could count, so he
recognized the mix of emotions on Celica's face. Fear, anxiousness, pain. But
in all of those escapades, he never saw this much pleasure before, never saw
this much bliss. The way she looked at him evoked a sense of hunger inside
Saber, and his worry of blowing it all too early returned almost immediately.
After a few seconds of letting their collective breaths mark the passing of
time, Saber clutched her tightly again, and extracted himself before pushing
back inside. He watched her face closely as he did it again, and again, always
pushing his hardness back inside once it was halfway out. He gritted his teeth
at how she seemed to grip him every time he withdrew, how she seemed to suck
him in every time he pushed in again.
Incredibly, at this point all he could read on Celica's face was that bliss.
That carnal pleasure that wouldn't usually be present in girls her age. He
looked down again and noticed that there was no blood either; she was too wet
and ready for him for there to be any.
Before he knew it, he had a slow steady rhythm. Celica would whimper in tandem,
goading his small thrusts, slowly mounting its progressive speed. He didn't
want to go faster than he did now. He savored the feeling of her body so close
against his, he savored every single inch of her suffocating snatch. As he had
guessed when his tongue was inside of her, this was by far the tightest pussy
he had ever encountered.
Pair that with how eager she was and again, Saber had half a mind to pinch
himself awake.
"More," Celica said in a whisper.
Saber barely heard it over his own grunts, but the word seemed to have an
instant effect on him regardless. He obliged, repositioning himself slightly,
making his thrusts go faster. He let out a loud grunt again at how Celica
squeezed him, like a pulsing hot glove.
Celica herself was still lost in a daze of irrevocable lust.
This was what she had wanted. A sensation strong enough to make her forget who
she was, what she needed to do. All of her life she didn't think anything could
make her forget but here she was, telling herself that her kingdom could wait.
She moaned without restraint as that fire in her belly became stoked. The
pleasure of her previous climaxes was returning again in precious ingots,
ingots given to her with every thrust of Saber's hips. At first she couldn't
believe that he could even fit inside of her, but now, she wanted him deeper.
She was panting now as Saber's hips began to thrust in earnest. She could hear
their skin begin to kiss in loud smacks, hear her pink moistness churned by his
cock. Her entire body began to help him. She clung to him now, pushing her
breasts still covered by the thin silk of her nightgown into his chest. She
buried her face into his neck, kissing frantically, groaning loudly every time
Saber would strike a spot that she didn't know existed.
She was his. Melting and hot and desperate, Celica gyrated against his hard
body, nostrils gripped by his strong musk. The woman back at the port she hired
him said he smelled like a tavern floor. But now, all she smelled was strength.
Strength that could tear her apart in all the right ways. Strength that could
make her forget about all the pain and all the responsibility.
"More," she said again, feeling his fingers react by gripping her tighter.
She breathlessly let out another moan as she thrust against him, her body
writhing, undulating against him. She could feel his cock pulse harder, feel
the head of it throb. She never felt so full in her life, so utterly stuffed.
A bead of sweat slipped beneath Saber's eyepatch. It went unnoticed as his
thrusts turned into drives. He could swear that Celica was drawing blood with
how hard her nails dug into him now, but he didn't care. At this point, as the
orchestrated rhythm of his hips eventually buckled and began losing its
structure, all he wanted was to give the teenage priestess what she wanted.
"Harder, please," she begged, her hot breaths crawling into his ear.
Saber growled, feeling her pebbly nipples dig through her nightgown into his
chest. And he abided by her, going harder still. He could go harder and harder,
but he still held most of that back. He could drive her into the table until it
broke, but he needed to hold it back. Not because he could break her.
But because her damn body was too tight.
His palms firmly grasped her rear now. In and in and in he thrust, feeling the
veins of his manhood begin to strain. He could feel something building in his
loins, feeling his lust spread like wildfire throughout his body.
Celica suddenly rose up from his neck, looking at him deep in the eye. She let
out a moan that turned into a whimper.
Without another word the hands behind his neck pulled him down, down, down. He
was kissing her now, but his chest followed hers as she lay back on the table.
He didn't stop thrusting.
The table moved, scraped against the floor of the room as the thrusts moved it.
Saber moved his hands to shoulders, feeling her soft legs raise into the air,
ankles locking behind his back. She was a natural at this. The position was
slightly awkward but he didn't care. He could feel the fire in his loins rage,
the pressure at the root of his crotch begin to intensify. His tongue
carelessly lashed about with Celica's as the sex began to grow less methodical.
His drives turned into sloppy heaves, slapping his skin into hers, not caring
about how she felt.
He felt her snatch begin to pulse around him, and before he knew it she came
again, her thin frame undulating in waves. He didn't stop thrusting. He
separated from her mouth. He wanted to hear her girlish moans, wanted to see
that tongue of hers helplessly look for his.
"F-Fuck," Celica said, cursing for the second time that night as another climax
ripped through her.
Saber could feel her squirt between them as he sunk his throbbing cock into her
again for one of the last times. The tankards and the wine began to dance and
pirouette precariously on the table as Saber's peak neared. Neither party cared
as they fell to the ground. First one tankard. Then the other. But before the
Ram Wine could teeter and shatter, Saber grabbed it.
He raised himself off of Celica, taking long, deep draughts as the girl below
him mewled and gasped, calling his name.
He silenced her with his mouth again after emptying the bottle, throwing it
across the room. The shatter of glass against the wall went unnoticed as his
mouth, still half-filled with wine, captured hers. Purple sweetness of the
alcohol trailed down Celica's face as their lips' sloppy embrace muffled their
loud groans.
In and in and in and in, Saber wanted all of her. He didn't want it to end, he
wanted that hot soft untouched skin around him, her rippling pink pussy to
clench and squeeze, sucking on her tongue until he couldn't breathe. He
separated from Celica's mouth, several strands of soppy saliva following it. He
realized that she was tightening around him again, feeling wet heat squirt onto
his stomach as another orgasm shredded her nerves.
He stopped his thrusting, letting his lungs breathe in deep intakes of missing
air as he began to stand upright above her, swatting aside Celica's hands that
tried to remain locked in his neck. He felt utterly naked now without the heat
of the girl radiating onto his chest. But at this point, as he heaved with an
almost animalistic hunger for release, that need for intimacy was forwent in
favor of pure lust.
He took one last look at Celica as his hands firmly grabbed her waist. She was
a piping hot mess.
Celica's hair served as a pillow as her head lolled about in a violent daze,
moaning and yelping his name. The straps to her nightgown wilted down past her
shoulders, revealing the topmost curve of her developing breasts. Her arms
lazily thrashed as she rode out her climax, searching for a nonexistent hold on
reality. All of her skin, from the the flat softness of her belly beneath her
scrunched-up nightgown, to the paleness of her thighs, to the curve of her neck
glowed with a thin sheen of her sweat. Celica was at her most vulnerable, at
the mercy of Saber's muscle and experience.
Galvanized by the sight, his grip on her waist tightened, and without a second
to spare he began to thrust, simultaneously shoving Celica's small frame into
his crotch with his strong arms. The action made Celica shriek, her breath
violently ripped from her lungs as Saber continued. This was the full
manifestation of her voluntary vulnerability. The ceiling of the tavern room
turned into a faint blur as Saber fucked her in earnest, using her body like a
toy, causing her to helplessly go along for the ride like a ragdoll.
She felt the wood of the table scrape against her bare back as her nightgown
slowly began to crawl upwards, her breasts rocking in tandem with the tremors.
Celica could barely breathe, much less talk, but between her shrieks and moans,
with her hands turning into fists, nails digging painfully into her skin, she
could only utter two words, a plead:
"Fuck me, augh, fuck me."
Over and over as Saber roughly began slamming her into his engorged cock,
Celica began to plead intermittently with her careless groans. Her words were
barely heard over the sloppy kisses of their skin, the wooden creak of the
table, and over Saber's growling pants and his own pleasurable groans.
The fire that had be roiling in his loins was beginning to mount. Celica was
impossibly tight. It was as if with every thrust, the girl would clench,
suffocating his veiny lust until he would burst. His thrusts continued to grow
more violent, every single heave of his hips reverberating through her body.
The way Celica reacted and how her body fit was addicting; Saber knew he
wouldn't be able to return to his tavern wenches after tonight. Never again
would he find anything as perfect as the mewling teenage priestess below him,
begging for his cock, begging for his lust.
Then, in the middle of a thrust that made Celica's back arch in carnal bliss,
Saber let out a shudder, and came.
"L-Lass I-" Saber said before completely giving up on trying to say anything at
all as his climax tore through his nerves, the pleasure making his vision
blurry.
Saber pathetically thrust into her in lazy rolls of his hips, hilting himself
and feeling multiple spurts of his seed begin to fire from his throbbing
erection. His breaths left in a shuddering torrent of incoherent groans. He
couldn't stand anymore, practically collapsing onto the table on top of Celica,
the hands at her waist quickly seizing her wrists.
He held onto Celica with his entire being, burying his face into her neck
before burying his teeth into her skin. She couldn't feel the pain, yelping
only at how good it felt as the white ropes of cum began to fill her unsullied
womb. It felt so hot inside her, pooling itself in that one area that had never
in her life been full of anything.
Saber's vision seemed to fade and melt as his climax kept going. One spurt gave
way to two and that gave way to three. He let out lustful exclamations muffled
in her skin, every rope of cum bursting from him more mind-numbing than the
rope before it. He felt like he was emptying himself for good until finally,
one last rope of semen shot into the teenager, leaving him throbbing and
throbbing, breathless and exhausted.
Both parties let a minute pass in each other's arms, chests heaving, muscles
slackening. Their skin was hot, pressed together in an increasingly-comforting
embrace.
A million things collectively ran through their heads. But the most common
thread between them was disbelief. With Saber above Celica, his head in her
shoulder and hers in his, they had a moment's respite from each other's gazes.
Their eyes were wide open now as the reality of the situation began to finally,
truly sink in. Did they really just do this?
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