Persephone stayed where she was, knelt on the stone, as she had been directed, as Iason moved backwards. He leant back against a piece of outcropping, his legs coming forwards between them, separating them further. His hands, however, were held out and took hold of her own, intent on guiding her in his next instruction.
When he asked her to come to him, Persephone's eyes darted over the set-up he had created. For her to get closer she would need to... He guided her actions to follow her thoughts and suddenly Persephone had placed her knees on either side of Iason's hips, straddling him where he sat. She swallowed and as Iason reached up to cup her cheek, his hand so large his fingers reached down to her neck and brushed at the himation wrapped around her, Persephone pulled at one end of the garment and shrugged it off. The sheath of white fabric fell into a puddle beside them but Persephone's movements in removing it were efficient. An act of practicality over sensuality. She brushed at her cheek, as she moved to settle where she sat, Iason's knee and thigh drawing up to support her from behind.
She felt herself grow warmer... hotter... as Iason now become an entrapment on both sides - his chest before her, his leg behind. The rising of his knee had his belly naturally lower and her own pelvis slide further into the crevice of his body. A soft gasp and uncertain mew seemed to leave her lips, as she suddenly appeared nervous and unsure what to do with herself or her hands.
When Iason leant in to kiss her again, Persephone smiled against him, her fingers finding a place for themselves, curled up in the front of his shirt, holding him in place. This, she knew how to do. This, she knew how it worked. Kissing Iason might have been something she was once nervous of, but now she found the soft touch and angular shape of his lips to be perhaps the most comforting sensation she knew. Not to mention emboldening in the way it sent her heart racing and her temperature escalating.
Iason's kiss was heartbreakingly sweet and Persephone found herself responding to it with just the same soft affection. Their mouths were feather light, their kisses fragile and almost elegant in their awkward touches. She smiled against him again, as a soft sigh drifted from her lips and she felt the little hiccups and catches to her breath breaking the quiet air between them. Each noise seemed to have her own body's sensations escalating, despite her attempts to keep her reactions quiet, not wanting to put Iason off with strange reactions.
It was then that Iasons hand's started to move. As she had settled over him, he had taken her face in his hands, one supporting her cheek, the other gracing her neck. As their kiss broke for a moment, Persephone turned her lips to the palm of his hand as she felt the other drift down the column of her throat. His touch had her shiver and she smiled as she turned her face into his palm as if embarrassed. When his other ventured further, his fingers dipping beneath the edge of her chiton tunic, Persephone felt her breathing seem to stop altogether as she felt the pads of his fingers slide along her collarbone. She closed her eyes against the awkwardness, her teeth nipping playfully at the pads on the palm of Iason's hand. She might not be able to look at him, but she didn't want his touch to stop.
When Iason leaned forward to initiate the kiss once more, she was eager to reply, her mouth suddenly hungrier, her skin hotter and her chest tighter than ever before. His tongue entered her mouth, their passions trying to reach one another.
With every inch Iason's hand moved, Persephone found it still harder to breathe - something she hadn't thought possible. The callouses of his fingers drifted over the curve of her breast, and Persephone felt her chest spasm as she lacked air. She breathed in, her chest rising to meet his hand. He held his wrist at an odd angle, attempting to touch without exposing her to the air, as his fingers drifted around the curve of her small breast and started to shift further. Her brain dividing between his hand and his mouth, Persephone could do nothing but feel. Until she felt the thickness of his palm abrade her nipple.
The gasp such a touch pulled from Perse, had her breaking the kiss, her head falling back, and her neck arching in the sunlight. She whimpered and mewed as if in pain but her fingers tightened in Iason's shirt as if to hold him in place. Her nipple hardened against his palm and she felt a sharpness settle in her breast at his touch. With a casual shift of his hand, Iason sent a bolt of heat from breast to lower belly and there was a sensation of tightening judders between Persephone's legs that had her cry out in surprise.
"Stop!" She gasp, her breath no more than a whisper. "Oh Gods..." Persephone swallowed hard, her hands pulling on Iason's shirt, her cheeks bright red and her forehead finding a place to hide in his neck. What that had been she wasn’t sure. A tight sweetness, a itching quiver. It was as if everything between her legs had become full alert, despite Iason’s attentions being on her chest. She hadn’t been prepared for it, and the moment of sensation had her breathing stopping and starting and her throat suppressing moans of feeling. What in the name of the Gods was Iason doing to her?
Her teeth nipping at his hand set his fingers flexing back into her hair, a breathy laugh escaping him as she tossed aside her himation and accepted his kisses once again. The more time they spent together the easier this became, with their touches and movements growing bolder and their lips more accustomed to how the other moved, what they liked. Her little gasps and moans were like music to his ears, and as she allowed his touch to dip lower a thrill shot through him once again, eagerly pressing forward to close the space between them.
Speaking seemed impossible, anything except this really felt impossible. He didn’t mind the discomfort or the strange angles, focused on how soft and warm she was beneath his touch and wrapping his other arm around her waist, fingertips playing along the hem of her tunic and tugging it up just enough for him to touch the skin of her back. Though they had been naked together before, this was almost more thrilling. Out in the field away from any prying eyes save the birds in the trees, both of them more comfortable together than they ever had been, he wanted her more than he had known possible.
When Persephone’s head fell back with that gasp he nearly pulled away afraid he’d caused her some pain until he noted her grip at his own shirt. The line of her neck was too tempting to ignore, and so he shifted forward to satisfy his need to have his lips upon her. As his mouth found the delicate curve of her neck his hand moved slightly, but the sound that it pulled from her was a cry that shocked him and he felt himself freeze as she told him to stop. Had he hurt her? Or was it just the desire to not be so forward before they were married?
Keeping still as she leaned into him, he tucked his nose against her jaw and tried to catch his breath, adjusting the hand on her chest and wrapping his arms around her instead to hold her close. When he spoke his voice felt strained, yet barely more than a whispering breath all at once.
Persephone gasped to try and catch her breath as Iason's hand left her chest, the brush of hand to nipple as he moved it away causing another tightening in her lower belly. She swallowed, tried to calm her breathing, tried to stop her sense from fluttering and her body from tensing. Iason held her close and she felt her arms go soft and loose, her hands dropping down to the space between them, not realising that it had her fingers resting over his belt buckle. She moved her fingers into his shirt, brushing her touch over the edge of his pants through the linen. But her touch was more distracted, seeking connection than it was sexual as she tried to catch her breath.
She didn't know why she was reacting so strongly to this. They had been naked together. In a bed. They had kissed and connected and touched in his bedchambers with only a single towel between them. Why was this moment, with them both fully clothed sending her senses into such turmoil?
All she could think of was that the night they had shared before had been something she was willing to commit to but not something she had been wholly present for. Her emotions had been everywhere, her mind chaotic, her heart broken. She had sought his comfort and his connection but this now was something different. This was them coming together because they wanted to. No needs. No pressures. Pure joy.
At least that was what she suspected it all was.
As she clung to him, Iason was understandably confused and spoke in her ear, his tone was as breathless as hers. When he asked, Persephone’s thighs tightened and she gripped his hips harder, as if nervous.
"Something happened..." Her voice was tiny, muffled and hidden from the world in Iason's neck, as if she wished him the only person in the world to hear her. "I felt something... Be-" She swallowed, chastising herself for being a child. "Between my legs. I felt something. It was a tightening, a hot shiver. I... It surprised me, that's all."
She knotted the fabric of his shirt in her hands, pulling it from the hem of his pants without such an intention, balling the linen in her fingers.
"Is that strange?" She asked, her lips moving against his skin as she still tried to catch her breath. "Is that what's supposed to happen?"
Persephone’s hands falling upon his belt were distracting, and for a moment he forgot why they had stilled, shifting his torso to stretch the material and untuck the shirt from his trousers. With his hands safely on her back, he dared to press his lips to her neck once again, slowly tracing a pattern down to her shoulder. Whether out of boldness or stupidity he couldn’t tell, but as he nuzzled against her he let his teeth graze gently along the curve of her shoulder.
Her description of what had happened felt similar to his body’s own reactions, the driving urge of desire pushing him onward and spikes of pleasure he was unaccustomed to. As her breath tickled against his neck he let out a sigh of his own, one hand running between them slowly as her thighs tightened around him. He could feel the heat of her core, hips flush against his own as his touch reached beneath her own shirt, slowly moving along her belly.
”I think so...if it felt good.”
Here was where he wished he had more experience, so he could comfort and reassure her if something was normal or not. The direction of his hand suddenly paused as he considered his actions for a moment, and began sliding it lower instead to the hem of her trousers. He wasn’t entirely sure what he would find, and he was alert for any sign or word that she wanted him to stop again as his fingers slipped beneath the leather.
”Here?”
Iason had no idea what he was expecting, the hair did not shock him as his own was the same. There was something familiar and yet entirely indescribable in the heat, the slickness that he found, and his breathing grew harsh against her shoulder. His touch was light, careful in its exploration as he tried to find the source of the sensation she’d described.
Persephone had cuddled closer to Iason's frame, naturally seeking a moment of reprieve from his touch and the sensations he caused or... more specifically... from her reactions to them. She needed time to breathe, to reaction, to process. Her thighs were spread wide over his hips, her arms now came up to circle his neck.
He gave her so such reprieve however, as her breathing escalated against his neck and he kissed and nipped his way along her shoulder and the hollow at the base of her neck. She felt heart bloom over her collarbone, felt her belly tighten and form a tugging sensation deep within. Her breasts, since his touch, were now more sensitive, the other having tightened to match its pair. When he nipped his teeth over the curve of her shoulder, Persephone felt a thin layer of sweat break out between her shoulder blades.
She felt the strong grip of his spread hand across the small of her back and feeling the need to give comfort as well as receive it, she pressed an open kiss to where Iason's neck met chest. The curving dip that pulsed with his heartbeat tasted hot and a little salty as she let her tongue explore his skin and her kiss draw against him.
When she felt his fingers playing with the edges of her tunic, Persephone felt her stomach clench, her muscles tense and her breathing hitch but she relaxed herself. This was Iason. And she trusted him.
The backs of his knuckles brushed against the soft skin of her belly below her navel. She might not have had the largest of breasts and curves, but Persephone's lean figure made her waist incredibly tiny, and it felt even smaller against his large hands.
His words were breathed into her ear and she felt herself smile a little nervously, her eyes fluttering closed as she kissed up the tendon of his neck.
"I think so. It did." She answered him. Uncertain at first from embarrassment and then opening with pure candour to admit that the sensations had been pleasant. More than pleasant.
When Iason's hand paused and started to head lower instead up beneath her clothing, Persephone's head came up in surprise, her hand reaching down to grab at his wrist. Her breathing was heavy her eyes wide, her eye so dilated with desire she could barely thing straight. She looked out at the meadow around them - the open field they were say in for all to see. She swallowed.
Shifting her hips a little first forward, Persephone wrapped her arms around Iason's neck, buried her face in his shoulder where she could hide her face and, in doing so, let go for his wrist so that she could take handfuls of the back of his shirt.
"There..." She responded to his question, the singular word, breathed into his ear a bold invitation to do what he wished.
Closing her eyes and trying to stop the natural rocking that seemed to have started up in her hips, Persephone swallowed hard and could hear only the rushing of blood in her ears and the harshness of her own breathing as it seemed to keep pace with Iason’s. She felt his fingertips pass beneath the rim of her leather and then the gossamer beneath. His touch encountered the hair that grew in the crevice of her hips and she bit her lip, a mew on her lips as he continued.
She felt him turn his hand, his fingers dipping lower towards the slick folds that had never been touched in such a way. The coolness of his hand was a little startling and only served to prove how hot she herself was. She felt dampness on his hand and between her folds and she gasped, then whimpered as he started to touch sensitive skin. She had never done this to herself, much less let anyone else do so. She had no idea what he was searching for but she knew that his touch was making every nerve ending set aflame, making her hips rock a little, as if trying to push his hand where her body naturally wanted it to go and making her mouth pop open with a desire that would not be stilled. Her breath hitched, caught, mewed and caught again. She gasped and whimpered and did it all directly into Iason’s ear.
”Please…” The word left her without her permission. She had no idea what she was asking him for, she just knew that she wanted to keep her eyes closed, tighten her grip on Iason’s clothes, wishing it was skin and not linen, and ask Iason never to stop what he was doing.
When her hand caught at his wrist, Iason stilled for a moment, waiting until she let go and hissing out a breath through his teeth as she rocked her hips against his, the friction of her weight and the leather between them sending a rush of his own pleasure through his body. He was emboldened by her moves, the way her breath caught and sighed against his skin. The confirmation that it had been a good sensation and desire had removed any hesitations he might have kept in place as his touch delved deeper.
Vague memories of whispers and jokes from others tried to guide him in what he sought, still unclear what he was trying to find. The skin here was different, almost impossibly soft and delicate and he nearly pulled back. His own fingers were too rough and calloused to be allowed to do this, but her breathed word allowed him once again to stay. Her mouth on his neck and shoulder were driving him to distraction, and as her hips rocked against his own and his hand he bit back a groan. It wasn’t what his body was demanding, but it clearly had a good reaction from his lover, and so he continued, letting their bodies guide him as he circled his thumb gently against a small rise in her folds.
The whispered plea in his ear, the grip she had on his shirt, every harsh and desperate breath between them drove him on, uncertain if he was doing this right but eager to prove he could. Turning his head, he tried to catch her lips with his, a searing need burning through him as he kissed her until he couldn’t breathe. Part of him didn’t want to move or ever leave this place, the other wished they were back in the manor, in a bed behind closed doors so he could lay her down and take what his mind now claimed as his.
”What do you need..anything, it’s yours. I..am yours.”
Persephone had no issues with Iason's fingers offering a slightly roughened texture to the secret skin between her legs. Her womanhood was delicate and unfeasibly soft against his touch but the mild friction his slightly calloused fingertips gave her was shutting down her mind and blinding her to every sensation in her body aside from where his hand met her secrets.
The second his thumb pushed against a knot of sensation she hadn't known she had, Persephone's knees tried to clamp together, hitting Iason's hips and leaving her still open to his touch. At the same time a harsh cry - louder than anything she'd emitted so far - punched from between her lips.
"Oh Gods..." She breathed. "Iason..."
When he circled that spot again, Persephone let out a second, started yelp, this one less loud for it was less surprising but deeper, more guttural.
It feels..." Her mind searched for words: amazing, vibrant, exciting, agonising... She couldn't pick just one. "Do it again... please..." She could only beg him to keep touching her, her hips out of her control as she thrust against his hand. She moaned, into Iason's ear, groaned against his skin.
As Iason turned his head, seeking to find her where she was buried in his neck, Persephone took a moment to allow it. She couldn't think, couldn't hold her expression or her countenance together. All she could go was feel what Iason's hand was doing between her thighs. She felt... wanton. She was out of control and whilst her body loved every second of it, the princess in her head didn't want him to see.
But then he slicked his fingers between her womanly folds and circled his thumb over that one spoke again and the woman took over from the princess. She sought his mouth with herself and didn't waste time with tentative kisses of affection. Her tongue drove deep into his mouth, her subconscious desire to have him as passionate as she. He was giving her so much pleasure, she wanted to return it.
Persephone moved to sit upright, her mouth never leaving Iason's, she gave him more room for his hand to work, she braced her weight on her knees and off of his lap, opening herself wider for him with blatant desire. As his hand continue to move, Persephone broke their deep kisses only to cry out whenever he offered a firmer touch to that special place, otherwise she sighed and moaned into his mouth.
After a few minutes, Persephone broke their kiss, her breathing agasp and her eyes wide, as she found herself staring into Iason's gaze.
"Something's happening..." She breathed...
There was a tightening. A curling. A coiling sensation deep within her womanhood that Persephone had never felt before. Her eyes widened further as she felt it growing stronger. It was as if all her inner muscles were drawing up inside herself and becoming tight; curled up together. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. At all. But some subconscious instinct told Persephone that that tightness had to release somehow. That that release was what her biology wished for her/
"Iason... I don't know what it is but something's happening." And now Persephone really couldn't stop her hips as they seemed to buck up against Iason's hand - seeking a stronger touch? a more thorough touch? She didn’t know. All she could do was place her hands on her lover’s shoulders to keep her balance. She leant in to claim his lips with hers, their kisses fracturing with every breath, mew and gasp that his ministrations took from her, only to have her try to sip from his mouth again. She seemed to have entirely forgotten that they were out in the open. All she could see was Iason. All she could feel was Iason.
With each harsh breath against his ear and the way her sounds made his body almost curl and shiver with delight, Iason allowed himself a moment to simply explore her, nipping at her earlobe when she didn’t turn at first to meet his lips. Perhaps it was too much, too demanding, and he nearly released her before she pleaded for more. That request, command really, not to stop was all he needed to spur him on, testing how the pressure and friction of his fingers could draw more of those delicious sounds from her lips.
As their mouths crashed again in a kiss and she lifted herself off him to give him more room, he gave a whine at the loss of her weight in his lap, his other hand lifting to slide into the dark locks that had been braided back. More than anything he wished her hair was loose to fall around them like a black curtain of luxury, but he didn’t try to tug it free of the pins in his current state. His body ached, a desperate sort of need rising in his stomach as he urged her on, taking cues from her sounds and focusing his touch on the most sensitive part of her.
Persephone’s words broke through the fog surrounding him, and he wasn’t sure at first what she meant. He could hear nothing around them but birdsong, saw nothing but her and very distantly their horses grazing in the meadow. It took him a moment to realize what she meant and as his touch continued he noted how slick his fingers were now, taking it as a good sign based on her expressions. It was a wild madness, wanting to continue giving her cause for such cries and moans, her lips meeting his own only sporadically now for all he wanted to breathe only her.
”Gods you’re beautiful…”
It felt foolish to say as soon as it slipped out, but he wasn’t fully present, looking at her with her head thrown back and expression one he’d never seen before, something that was so completely her. His own desire was like a spring coiled in his stomach, a burning need that urged him on.
Persephone heard Iason's words, his compliments singing in her ears and taming her heart, but she couldn't draw the breath to respond. With her mouth attempting to hold his in a kiss that could never last around her wildness; her need to moan and mew and whimper and hiss- there was no air left to speak back, to tell him what was happening to her or how she felt – about what he was doing or he himself. Which she couldn't have put into words, even if she had wanted to.
Persephone's eyes had closed and now didn't seem willing to open. Her mouth, on the other hand couldn't stay shut, unless she was biting at her lip, her ears were deaf to everything but her own ragged breathing and pounding heartbeat. She swallowed hard, as all of her senses turned inwards. To what was happening inside of her body. Her muscles kept tightening, her insides changing. She knew with all certainty that something was about to set those muscles free, to release their coil, and she wasn't sure she was ready for whatever it was. All she knew was that her body had to have it: whether she was ready or not.
"Iason..." This time when she said his name, it was like a whimper. A cry of fear that she didn't know what was about to happen. She moved her hips against his hand, tightened her grip on his clothes, and continued to kiss him around her gasps, to show him she didn't want him to stop, but her words showed the duality in her thoughts. She opened her eyes as she took his face in her hands, wanting to connect with him in this moment, not shut him out. She winced a little at the tension in her body. "It's close… I'm scared."
And just as the words left her lips, Persephone’s hips moved hard against Iason in a particular angle that send her most sensitive spot rushing hard against the length of his finger. And just like that, her body seemed to shatter beyond of her control.
It was as if everything happened in slow motion and at lightning speed simultaneously. Persephone felt her internal muscles turn almost cold, tighten so hard they offered a sharp, sweet little pain and then everything inside, from her navel down, shuddered against Iason's hand. Her internal muscles shook and clenched in waves that pulled on her empty womanhood, tugging over and over. At the release, Persephone felt her back stretch and her neck arch as she couldn’t help but lift her face to the sky and offer a cry from deep in her belly. Her thighs clenched down on Iason hard, her bottom dropped back to sit on him once more, entrapping his hand between them and it wasn’t until she could breathe and blink again that Persephone realised little spots dotted her vision.
She felt her inner muscles ripple in sensations that gradually decreased in strength and, as they did so, she was able to breathe again, her exhales coming in pants as she relaxed once more and looked to Iason, her eyes wide and her lips parted. She felt colour suddenly bloom over her cheeks, realised his hand was still down her riding pants and instantly couldn’t appear to make eye contact. She brushed the fallen locks of her hair behind her ear self-consciously, swallowed and glanced back up at him. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then appeared to fail to find the words, closing her lips once more. She offered him a nervous smile, feeling like she had lost all her dignity along with her inhibitions – they were outside for Gods’ sake – and fearing what he might think of her and her loss of control…
It felt as if there was a veil around them, as if Aphrodite herself was bestowing her blessing on the couple. In all of his past experience, which was highly limited, there was no feeling quite like this, it was euphoric and consuming and as his hand moved and stroked with her body’s own motions. When he’d pulled her down with him, he hadn’t known the direction this would go, hadn’t realized what this would become, but now they were here he had no regrets and only wished he knew better how to bring her pleasure.
When she spoke he once again nearly pulled back, stopped everything they were doing in favor of wrapping his arms around her and comforting her instead. Her eyes showed a hazy mix of fear and lust, something he was unaccustomed to seeing in her usually calm gaze, but it was her grip on his clothing and her persistence in kissing him that kept him going. He didn’t know how to respond as she moved her hands to his face, his arm around her waist tightening as his hand continued its attentions. The moment it happened he could tell, the way her body felt against his hand, the way her head fell back and her body rocked against him sharply. Her weight suddenly upon him and the tightness of her legs against his hips had a similar cry tugged from him as she landed against his lap, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before looking back at her, breath ragged.
There was a moment of stillness as she came down from her high, his hand stopped but still pressed against her as she looked back at him with a clearer expression that seemed to instantly change to one of embarrassment. He hated seeing that and as he withdrew his hand from her riding pants he brought the other up to her cheek to try to bring her attention back to him, not willing to let her second guess and get upset about this. It would be the first time she hadn’t cried on him after an intimate moment and he didn’t think he could bear it if it happened again. Kissing her instead of speaking, he slid both hands down to her hips to draw her down against his, seeking the pressure that his body was demanding.
Iason surfaced for air with a smile, expression hopeful as he brushed his nose against hers. She seemed content, but his eyes were still dark with desire and he was trying to refrain from rocking his hips up to try to seek some friction and take the pressure off of himself. With another deep breath he stole another kiss before easing back and looking up at her, heart still beating rapidly.
Persephone blushed a little deeper as Iason removed his hand from the valley between her thighs, the touch of his fingers through her folds setting off little jitters and aftershocks through her pelvic floor. Even when there was nothing sexual about the movement - simply a withdrawal of his hand - she was so sensitive there now that the intent didn't matter. His other hand, however, seemed to calm the heat as he cupped her cheek with such tenderness it had Persephone's chest ache.
As Iason leant in to kiss her, Persephone felt a wash of relief surge through her, followed quickly by a warm, soft and sleepy feeling that coursed through her body. After the tension in her limbs, now her muscles grew heavy and tired and Iason's kiss brought forward a rush of affection. She had just exposed herself, her vulnerability, to this man and he kissed her as if she were something sacred not scandalous. He offered affection and care to her. Their kiss was sweet and slow and a little languid as Persephone felt lost in a hazy afterglow of her peak. But its lack of speed didn't diminish its impact. Persephone wondered if a little piece of her soul wasn’t given away within that kiss. She had never felt so personally close to anyone else in her life.
With the softness of her muscles and calm in her belly, came her body feeling heavy and Persephone shifted to sit upon Iason's lap, as he guided her to, without complaint. The touch sent little swells of sensitivity between her thighs and she felt herself inhale sharply at the contact. At such a break between their lips, Iason broke away to smile at her and Persephone sensed all the tension in her chest suddenly disappear. He rubbed his nose against her own and she grinned in open personal connection. No regality, no decorum. Just Perse. Smiling.
She responded to him as he offered her a second quick kiss of the lips and then leant back enough to speak. Persephone was smiling, her eyes half closed in dreamy contentedness, her face turned into his palm that still held her face when he spoke those three small words.
The second they left his lips, Persephone's eyes flew wide her face turning to stare across the small gap between them, her mouth opening. And just like that, the tension in her lungs and around her heart was back, her pulse was hammering a mile a minute and she felt her head go a little foggy. Her mouth tried to form words, shut and then tried again but the only thing Persephone could push past her lips was her most instinct thought, however nonsensical it was in the situation -
In all the time he’d known her, he had never seen her look so utterly relaxed, content. She had always held some form of decorum up as a shield, or been so vulnerably open he had been afraid to look too closely. This though, this was a different kind of ease that made everything about her seem to be surrounded in a haze of warmth, light and affection mingling to make her beauty even more obvious. His own eyes were still dark with a desire he’d never felt for anyone else, body tense and eager for more though she seemed to need a moment of her own.
The words had slipped from his lips without much thought, and he leaned in to her once again, pausing as she suddenly seemed startled. Iason stayed where he was, the effort of lifting his torso and holding it from the rock distracting him enough from the burning want that he could formulate actual phrases. With a deep breath that he blew out slowly, he smiled easily, his arms sliding around her in an embrace to hold her and secure her reassurance that he meant all he said.
”Because you’re...you.” It felt like a silly response, and he had to think for a moment to make more sense of what she was asking him. There were obvious reasons, her beauty and poise, but then there were more subtle things. The way she interacted with Dorothea, the horses, what he had seen of her relationship with her sister.
”Your strength, your fierce loyalty and love of the people you care about. I saw it in Athenia, and now here with my family.” His fingers traced slight circles against her tunic but that wasn’t enough and he slid them beneath the material to find skin once more, just a touch of comfort and a need to be close to her.
”When you smile at me, it feels as if all is well, I feel at ease. Your brilliance is something quiet, lingering beneath a mask of perfection, but when it shines...no man could best you.” This time he pressed an affectionate kiss to her cheek and lingered there, the heat of her skin against his own sending a radiating warmth through his body and his fingers tightened against her. She had to know, had to see what there was to love. ”And you drive me mad. I’ve never….desired...anyone so much. If this all is not love, I look forward to seeing how it grows.”
Relaxing back against the rock, he drew her with him but allowed her space to pull back if she wished, a slight smile of affection evident even through his next teasing phrase. Just looking at her it was easy to see everything he had just described, as if it was all written on her face.
Persephone found her eyes to widen, her expression to numb and her heart to tighten with each word that parted Iason's lips. His impressions of her were that which she had been taught to exude her entire life; be impressive, be vibrant, be engaging, be authoritative. She had been trained to behave in the way he described. But, never once had she thought that such traits were part of her nature. She had always considered them as resulting symptoms of the lessons of her youth. She had actively and deliberately utilised no such teachings, ever since she'd been on Dimitrou land and it was clear that Iason's affections had only grown since she had been in Taengea. Which meant he saw such awe-inspiring qualities in the woman she was, not the Queen she had been taught to be. And while it was exceptionally hard for Persephone to take a compliment: mostly because she had been surrounded with flattery masking hidden agendas for so long; she knew, at least logically, that Iason meant what he said. She had been in his presence and learnt his best qualities long enough to believe that at least.
So, however much it made her feel deliciously nervous or sweetly awkward, Persephone was at least able to accept his words. Even if she couldn't quite bring herself to do it verbally. She just hoped that the softening of her expression and the warmth in her eyes were enough to communicate her belief in him and his assurances of adoration.
Dipping her head and brushing a lock of hair behind her ear once more - such a tick was rapidly becoming a habit when she felt awkward under flattery - Persephone's gaze turned down to see Iason's hands disappearing beneath her tunic and she felt the stirrings of heat once more in her lower belly. Surprised that she could still feel after the wracking shudders he had sent her into only moments before, Persephone bit her lower lip as a soft and dull throbbing began between her legs, a sign of contentment slipping from her tongue. It was as if her body now knew what it meant to be pleasured by a man and was eager for a repeat performance.
Looking up to her partner, she took his encouragement in hand and leaned forwards in order to draw closer as he sat back. She hovered, their faces close as they seemed to hold a connection without words for a moment, her own lips working to find some vocal offering of gratitude that would match his sentiments. Or the words that would return his affections.
But Persephone was not in love. Whilst she couldn't know that in its entirety; for she knew not what it meant to be in love - Persephone was fairly certain that the care and loyalty she felt for Iason was rapidly escalating in that direction, but her own nervous heart and analytical mind were restraining the progress to a more practical pace. But such words were hardly that of romantic utterances the likes of which would be suitable to respond to Iason’s heart-warming words...
Instead, Persephone reached up in order to feel at Iason's face, brushing the backs of her fingers over the growing stubble upon his jaw line and the sharp angle where jaw turned up towards ear. She felt the curls of his hair around his ears. She smiled.
"You make it hard for me to take myself seriously, my Lord." She quipped back at him, before frowning and inhaling slowly as she endeavoured to be honest with the man she had promised to spend her life with. "I cannot offer you the same words, Iason, but I can offer you my own truths...? And that is that I have cared for no man, as I care for you." And in the hopes that, if such words weren't enough, her actions could redress the deficit, Persephone then leaned in and sealed the honesty of her vow with a kiss of contradictions. Experienced it seemed for, after their practicing thus far, she found a sweet and sensitive angle immediately. And yet it was matched with an innocent gentleness that she hoped communicated her sincerity. The kiss, chaste as it was, was promise of her truthfulness and - she hoped - held hopeful possibility of any and all future growth of her feelings towards the man that was rapidly becoming the linchpin of her world.
Iason could feel the hesitation, the slight struggle in her reply but he tried to keep his expression neutral. Her fingers brushing along his jaw was soothing, and he closed his eyes as she scratched her nails softly against his stubble, humming with pleasure. Smiling broadly at her responding quip, he felt the nerves melt from him as she teased him back. Whatever she was going to say may not have been a declaration of love, but she didn’t despise him.
Opening his eyes to meet her gaze as she spoke, he gave a nod of understanding. Perhaps that was what he ought to have said instead of love, that he cared for her more than he’d ever cared for any other. Her phrasing made sense, and though there was an inkling of disappointment, he wasn’t unhappy with such a response.
”The truth is all I need.”
Her lips on his seemed to seal that, and he met her eagerly, hands sliding further up her back to draw her against him. Her skin was so soft, perfectly smooth without any kind of mark upon it and it sent awe through him every time he was permitted to touch her. His own skin was fine enough, but it was rough and his body hard compared to her own. It felt as if they should not be able to be on the same level.
Not wanting to let go, he shifted once again to draw his hands down to her hips to pull her against him. She was so small, when they were this close it was far more obvious how lithe she was, and how well she fit with him. He was curious still, what this could mean for them, what else could pass between them, whether or not he could pull those sounds from her again.
”So...was that...something you would wish again? Were you satisfied?” He felt so awkward asking, but he tried to smile and keep close to her so she couldn’t see it in his eyes. He wanted her answer to be yes, to get that confirmation that he wasn’t a completely lost cause.
It was a statement that Persephone openly believed. Iason was a man she had not previously had the fortunate to meet: who said exactly what he meant. Raised from infancy by servants who told her only what they thought she wanted to hear and from her pubescent years by those of Court saying only that which they wanted to say but in a manner that only communicated what they wanted her to hear, Iason’s (and the Dimitrou clan in generals') adherence to honesty was as surprising and difficult to adjust to as it was truly appreciated and loved. There were no games with Iason, no tricks or machinations. In fact, Persephone was fairly certain that any miscommunications between the two of them had been her own fault for over thinking and assuming there to be additional layers to their conversations that didn't exist.
That was to say, Iason was far from simple. He was not an unintelligent man. Persephone had seen the way his mind worked, had noted his choices in behaviour, how he had comported himself in Athenia. The man was knowledgeable and while he might not have loved to socialise within high society, he was a skilled courtier. Which meant that he had every ability, skill and opportunity to manipulate fact and instead held true to honesty. It was just like how he had the opportunity to be a king... or a member of even high nobility than he currently stood, grasping for more power and glory and yet he remained true to a simple vision he had always anticipated for his life: being a baron, husband and father.
And such a dream could only be shared truly with one person.
And he had chosen her.
As their kiss broke off, soft and sensitive to the end, Persephone's lips naturally curved into what wasn't actually a smile but more a resting expression that had turned into one of contentment. Her lashes fluttered upwards, as Iason sort to speak with her on what he had encouraged her body to do, causing a brilliant flush to touch at the base of Persephone's neck and the far edges of her cheekbones. With a quick smile, a haughty lifting of her chin as her own lessons in decorum came to her rescue, Persephone's eyes flashed with humour.
"Are you fishing for a compliment, Lord Iason?" She asked him with a tone of fake indignation, before her expression broke, her smile turned looser and more relaxed and she leaned in to press her lips to his once more. Her next words were murmured against his lips.
"That was the first time I have ever felt as such." She told him. "But I promise you I would not want it to be the last."
The colour in the far reaches of her cheekbone seemed to drift forwards towards the peaks of her facial structure at such an admittance, but when Iason moved his hand towards her in a way that suggested he had meant now rather than at an undisclosed further time, Persephone was surprised and quickly reached down to wrap her fingers around his wrist once more, this time gently and with a lazy pace of movement. Her fingers fluttered around the ridge of his joint and over the thick tendons in his arm, as she realised that she was a little nervous in her next suggestion...
"Do partnerships not offer pleasure in equal turns?" She asked the man with a glance that met his eye but couldn't seem to hold it for very long. She licked her lips, the tip of her tongue pink against the swollen red of her mouth; her lips turned thicker and more voluptuous by Iason's attentions. "Perhaps if we were to return to the manor...?" She suggested, still brave enough to meet the line of his stare but innocent and coy enough to break it quickly. "I would like to share in our pleasure with you, Iason…"
The way her skin flushed in response told him what he had hoped to know, and his grin spread as she caught his hand. He hadn’t been intending on anything else, but he also didn’t hate having her holding onto him in such a way. Instead, he let his arms wrap around her waist again, marveling at the way her blush travelled from her neck to her cheeks. She was much more willing to kiss him now, more able to initiate affection and share it between them than when they had first begun to test their limits together.
What he hadn’t expected was an offer of something in return. His eyes had started to droop slightly in contentment as her fingers played over the muscles of his arm and wrist, but they were open and alert once again, catching the way her tongue played over her lips. Swallowing to try to ensure that his throat which had gone dry in that instant wouldn’t betray him, Iason nodded slightly.
”If...you wish.”
Coherent thought wasn’t really working for him at the moment, and his body which had finally started to cool felt like it was going to catch fire again. Without a further word, he caught her up in his arms and stood, whistling for his mount and speaking to her hair as he waited for the gelding to reach them.
”Ride with me back?”
It wasn’t so much a question as an acknowledgement to himself that he didn’t want to be parted from her for even the space of time it would take for them to get back to the manor. Not to mention, as he knew the terrain like the back of his hand, he could take them at a far quicker pace than they might have otherwise gone. Waiting for her assent, he lifted her onto Bucephalus’ back, swinging up behind her and setting them off with one arm around her, the other guiding the gelding. Seeing she was being left behind, Persephone’s mare gave an indignant whicker before following them, unwilling to be parted from her herd.
The journey back felt like it took forever, with her back pressed to his chest he was able to sneak a few kisses to the curve of her neck as he allowed the horse to get them home without much guidance. It would take all of the self control he had left to ensure that they were put up properly before returning to the manor proper with his entire family absent for the senate meet and varying events that followed.
Initially, Persephone felt disappointment tinged with concern that she had gotten something wrong. She had offered the return of… pleasuring Iason because she had wanted to. Because she did not want to solely be the one in their dynamic constantly taking, without returning the affection or experiences that Iason offered her. Whilst she would never say she felt pressured into suggesting such an act on her part, she had indeed spoken in the hopes of pleasing him, more than herself. Yet, his response was but a simple... "If... you wish."...
If she wished? For a moment, Persephone wondered if she had gotten it all wrong, if he was merely humouring her offer and that she had failed to suggestion that which men enjoyed. Perhaps she had done so out of turn, or out of character, or perhaps men did not simply operate in the same way that the female anatomy was formed. Persephone was just starting to feel the curls of embarrassment and awkwardness unfurl in her belly when Iason was suddenly encouraging her up, moving them both to standing within a few seconds. Within another, he was calling over his horse; all with an efficient speed that suggested enough eagerness to chase away her concerns. She had not been wrong. Iason had just been hedging his words. His actions spoke of an excitement in her proposed plan that had her worries defused quickly enough.
When the man turned to murmur a simple question towards her, his lips and breath stirring her hair that now fell in several more curls around her face than had been loosed upon her leaving the Dimitrou manor, she smiled at the tenderness implied by such intimacy. She nodded simply with an agreement to his suggestion, for it was one of the first times Iason had asked her for anything.
"Alright." Was her simple acceptance, the word light and sweet, as the curling of her lips turned its tone bright and positive. She was perfectly capable of riding back herself, and it was the fact that she knew Iason to be aware of this - that his offer was not a condescension of her skills on the back of a horse - that had her agreeing to his offer. There was no judgement to be had here. Just the prolonged enjoyment of each other's company. It was for this same reason that Persephone allowed Iason to help her onto the back of his mount and she stayed calmly balanced in place as he joined her, settling his pelvis behind her bottom and her back to his chest.
As Iason curled an arm around her middle, Persephone leant into his touch, her shoulders cushioned by the breadth of his chest. She felt a small fire spark once more in her lower belly as Iason's fingers spread possessively over her middle, holding her close as he directed the horse with his other. Her mind flickered to a few moments earlier when those fingers had brushed her body just a little lower than they did now. She was still... alert between her thighs, feeling the shifts and movements of her garments against her heightened sensitivities. Each shift and movement of the horse beneath her had the curve of her rear pressing up against Iason's pelvis and her shoulders brushing against his collarbone. His arm was like a delicious abrasion against her side and over her middle and she was struggling to concentrate on anything that was occurring beyond the boundary of her own skin. She found herself licking her lips and her breath deepening as she placed a hand to the forearm curled around her and ran the palm of her hand from elbow to wrist. There, she rested her hand over his and boldly interlocked her fingers between his own.
Something had happened on that rock in the middle of the meadow. For, suddenly, it felt like such a small thing to touch Iason so innocently. After he had caressed her as he had... a simple holding of hands felt like nothing anymore. Her inhibitions had been stripped away forcefully by the intensity of what they had shared and Persephone felt herself growing more positive of her future.
She had always respected Iason. She had always liked Iason. But now it was becoming clear that, not only did she care greatly for him: his humility, his bravery, his compassion and kindness... she was also finding herself physically drawn to him. The concept of going to bed with the man that would be her husband no longer seemed clouded in a fog of fearful ignorance... but the mist and steam of unknown pleasures...
As they rode back, Iason moved to make kisses along the side of her neck and Persephone did nothing to stop him. Her head turned towards his a little in a moment of ticklish coyness but otherwise she was open and accepting of his touch. His lips left little sparks of heat along her skin and she felt herself blush again. How many times could a woman warm in the cheeks before she become wholly and permanently overheated? Her fingers squeezed with his as they rode, air leaving her lungs on a soft and contented sigh as she allowed the man to take care of their journey and ensure her mare was brought safely with them. For some of the distance, Persephone closed her eyes, enjoying the touch of his mouth against her nape, the sunlight speckling through the trees on her face, the gentle sway of the animal beneath them... the way their fingers twisted and played at her middle.
She was opening her eyes from just such a moment of bliss when they approached the gates of the Dimitrou manor. They rode down the slabbed pathway to the main house only to find some of the shine of her mood diminished in a moment of confusion when she spotted Demetrius standing by the stables, apparently waiting for them... Disengaging their hands and allowing Iason to dismount behind her first, Persephone then swung a leg over the back of the horse and came to the ground herself.
"Demetrius..." She greeted with a friendly smile but an expression of uncertainty at the severe expression on his face.
She and soldier had not talked greatly since her escape from Athenia. But by joining them in their rush for safety, the man had cemented himself in the position of trusted ally, regardless of the limited time they had spent in one of another's company. Persephone had tended to the wounds he had received during the attack (however poorly - it had taken her four attempts to secure the bandage with any great degree of security) and he in turn had been performing a protective service in her employ. But even then, the two of them did not know each other well and Persephone was struggling to decode his expression. Standing there, there appeared to be too much going on for him to react to all at once. He seemed... jumpy. Elated but with the determination to be serious.
"Is everything alright?" She asked the gladiator come bodyguard, as she stepped forward with friendly concern for the man...
As soon as he had received confirmation that the letter came from one of the Queen’s advisors, Demetrius had packed up his things and Olena, making sure the woman’s distinctive hair was covered as they rode together on the same horse out of Vasiliadon. Only after they were clear of the city did either of them breathe properly, a laugh of relief exhaled from his chest. They’d done it, they’d escaped together and they were both finally free, together.
The trip back to the Dimitrou lands was simple enough, no one had an urge to stop the couple as they rode along, and since they travelled light there was no reason for them to look suspicious aside from the fine horse he’d been given to make the trip. It was early afternoon the next day when they finally rode up to the manor house, and as they dismounted, Dima handing the horse over to the hostlers and being told the Queen and her consort were out for a ride, decided to wait by the stables.
Olena was allowed the option of waiting with him or seeking out food, choosing to settle their things in the small space they’d been granted before she returned to his side. As Dima waited, he looked at the letter. He couldn’t read the words written upon the paper, but the man who had delivered it had summarized the news to give the proper urgency to his return. He wondered how they might feel, joy he supposed at knowing the young princess was alive. Emilia had been kind to him during the one encounter they’d had, and he was relieved to hear nothing bad had happened to her during the attack.
When the sound of hoofs alerted him to the return, he stood and stepped from the stables, keeping his expression even as he bowed deeply to the queen as she slid from the back of her horse. The two of them had been riding on the same mount, looking far more comfortable with one another than they had on the boat, and for that he was glad. Life was easier with someone you loved by your side.
He nodded at her question, holding out the letter with little added pomp or circumstance. He had done his duty and all that was asked of him.
”News, your majesty. From Lord Aimias, regarding the safety of Princess Emilia.”