Part 2 Title: Once Is Not Enough
Characters/Pairings: Gwen/Arthur, Morgana cameo
Word Count: 2,756
Warnings: a bit OOC (depending on how believing you are of having dirty secrets). Porn with only minor plot.
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or its characters. Wouldn't mind owning Arthur though… Alas!
Summary: Gwen and Arthur had a little secret tradition for the annual Camelot tournament… and now they're breaking the unspoken rules. (Sequel to Armor Is No Obstacle)
A/Ns: For the camelot_love's Help Haiti Thing-a-thon on LJ, hosted by the selfless threemeows. threemeows' request was "remember that fic you did a while back, the one where gwen and arthur already were in a purely sexual relationship and they basically only slept together right before tournaments? He asked her to come to his room that night after the feast. I WANT THAT FIC LIKE BURNING ;D"
Even though when I wrote Part 1 of Armor Is No Obstacle I meant it to be quasi-compliant with S1, now that S2 happened, it's safe to say that both are AU.
Gwen noticed how Arthur's eyes wandered over to her numerous times throughout the feast. It was strange, she thought, since he had never so much as glanced at her in all the other years they had had their annual trysts before the tournaments. But tonight, his gaze kept finding her, a small smile on his face that made her stomach swoop.
An hour before the probable end of the celebration, Lady Morgana excused herself because of a headache. Arthur noticed Gwen leaving with her lady and gave a small nod, his eyes piercing directly into hers.
"I would think you had somewhere to be, Gwen, the way you're rushing me into bed."
Gwen hoped the single candle didn't show her blushing face as she tucked the blankets around her mistress.
"I don't know why you would think that, my lady. Where do I have to be besides tending to you?"
Morgana smiled, however disbelieving. "Home. Which is where you should be after I kept you from it all last night. Perhaps this headache causing me an early night is in hopes to make up for that."
"It is never a trouble to stay with you, my lady. I've told you that many times."
Her mistress shook her head and shooed Gwen with a wave of her hand. "You do too much. Now, go. Have a pleasant night."
"Good night, my lady," Gwen whispered back.
Gwen closed the door softly, her feet then finding her halfway to Arthur's chambers before she realized what she was doing. Her mind was too busy thinking about that morning, making her face grow warm and heat pool between her legs.
She gave a quick look to check no one was around, before knocking on the prince's door.
"Come in," she heard him call, cueing her to push open the door.
Arthur turned away from looking out the window as she closed the door behind her. Neither moved from their place on either side of his room, making the distance between them seemed startling as they stared at each other.
"Congratulations on winning the tournament, my lord," she began formally.
"Thank you, Guinevere. Although I had some help."
"Help, my lord?"
He stepped forward. "From a woman. She gave me the right motivation."
Gwen felt herself flush. "What motivation was that?"
"It is nothing you haven't received before from her."
"But I am always grateful to receive it." He took another step toward her. "Guinevere," he began, his voice rumbling in that perfect way, "you are…"
She stepped forward as well. "What?"
"I don't know," he sighed, shaking his head.
They finally met in the middle of the room, staring silently at each other once more.
Gwen's eyes fell to study his body, her hands then reaching for the hem of his shirt and pulling it off. She paused, his shirt slipping through her fingers and floating to the floor as she admired his chest. Gone were the days when she was embarrassed to look at him like this, lust clearly in her eyes.
There was no doubt that she had found his armor arousing, the way he looked every bit the fearsome warrior and noble knight. But he was equally masculine bare-chested, and she had almost forgotten how appealing he looked naked… almost.
Biting her lip at the gall of her initiative with a prince, she pressed her palms against his abdomen. He did nothing, just continued watching her face. So she ran her hands up his chest to rest them on his shoulders. She met his eyes, swallowing, wondering why he did no more than place his left hand on her hip.
"Arthur," she whispered, and his features finally broke into a smile at his name.
He tilted her chin with the knuckle of his other hand, before moving his fingers back and tangling them within her hair to guide her mouth to his. The kiss was soft and gentle, but firm. It was not like the frantic kisses they'd shared earlier that day before the final round – no, quite the opposite. They sent tingling sensations down her body and drew a long moan from her as her fingers tightened on his shoulders. He had never kissed her like this before.
"How much did you have to drink tonight?" she asked with a raised eyebrow when they finally broke.
He bent to kiss a slow trail down her neck. "Barely anything. I wouldn't want anything to heed me," he answered huskily. "Why?"
"You're just, um," Gwen struggled. She would have had a hard enough time finding the right words without him distracting her. Different.
It's not like he had ever been rough with her. But he had always gauged his intensity to be just as much as she was up to, which became more and more considering how they'd just been in the tent that morning.
Not that she could complain, she thought, as he undressed her and his hands now ran over her waist and hips. It sent delicious shivers down her spine to which she closed her eyes. She then felt his mouth on her breast, making her gasp and instinctively clutch at his hair.
Remembering herself, she ran her other hand down his chest, her fingers shaking as he suckled her nipple and she tried to undo his trouser laces. But his hand stopped hers before she could reach inside.
"Let me savor this," he whispered, his voice on edge.
He brought her to his bed, laying her down in the middle. He then covered her body with his, resuming their kiss from before as his hands ran languorously over her body, making her moan and press against him. She grasped his shoulders before running her hands down his sides.
God, she wanted him…
He shifted, making her think he was moving to take off his trousers. Instead, his mouth just went lower on her body to her shoulders and collarbones, placing unhurried kisses over her until he reached her breasts and did the same there. He lingered for awhile, swirling and flicking his tongue around her nipples until her eyes rolled back in her head and she keened. Then he continued to her ribcage and stomach.
He'd never done this before. Never spent this much attention on her. And she was far past the point of needing to be readied for him.
"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice shaking with need.
"Taking you in," he whispered huskily. "For until next year."
Gwen flushed. It's not like as prince – and a handsome one at that – he couldn't get other women in his bed between their times together. So why was he acting like this was such a special occasion?
Reason left her once he's reached her hipbones, his mouth following them down until he was so close.
"Spread your legs for me," he whispered.
Gwen didn't even think before her body acted on its own.
His fingers were on her. And he wasn't just checking to see if she was wet and ready for him. No, he was running his fingers over her in a caress.
Gwen made a small noise somewhere between a gasp and a moan, which caused Arthur to look up. His eyes met hers, watching her as she felt his finger press all the way inside her. Then she definitely moaned. Her hands clutched the sheets when he actually started to move it in and out of her, her breathing growing heavy.
She didn't understand why he was doing this, why he was pleasuring her without getting anything out of it himself. Men just weren't like that; they placed their own pleasure above a woman's if they even considered it at all.
She met Arthur's gaze again, studying how he smiled at her, his expression like it often was as he bedded her.
Was he actually taking pleasure in this?
He stopped, causing her to sigh in what she realized was disappointment. Until he added another finger while his other hand rested on her mound to move his thumb over her sensitive bundle of nerves.
She cried out, her fists tightening around the sheet underneath her as he worked. She wasn't even going to bother trying to figure out his motive for doing this anymore. As long as he kept doing this.
"Don't stop," she whimpered, her body tightening and her legs twitching as she approached her release. "Please."
"Not until you want me to, Guinevere," he growled back.
She pressed the back of her head firmly against the pillow as she keened, colored lights popping behind her eyelids.
His hands finally slowed, before pulling the fingers from inside her out and sucking them into his mouth. She watched as his eyes closed and he made an unconscious noise to communicate his pleasure. His other hand remained resting on her mound, his thumb still flicking occasionally over her still-sensitive bud and making her gasp and whimper. Then he leaned forward, running his tongue over her folds and sucking lightly on her clit. She bucked wildly against him and cried his name, making him lift his head and flash a cocky grin.
He crawled forward to cover her body with his again, being met by Gwen wrapping her arms tight around him to pull him close. He probed her lips open, slowly running his tongue over the inside of her mouth for her to taste herself. She might have even thought it bizarre if she wasn't so enthralled in the moment.
Then her hands were unlacing his trousers, which he wasn't stopping her from doing this time. He didn't even need her help in getting aroused, she realized. But Gwen stroked him anyway, enjoying how he shivered and his hips instinctively jerked against her hands. He buried his face into her neck, his teeth grazing against the sensitive skin below her ear.
"Stop, Guinevere, please," he pleaded breathlessly. "I want… I can't take…"
She couldn't help but smile to herself at her control over him, enjoying how his body quaked over hers. But she stopped anyway, opting instead to push his trousers the rest of the way off.
In the next moment, he was inside of her, their bodies instinctively grinding into each other before any rhythm could be set. They paused and readjusted, Arthur pulling one of her legs around his waist so he sank deeper, causing a collective moan. Then they were moving against each other again, this time in perfect unison.
His face was still buried in her neck, his breath hot on her skin, occasionally pressing moist kisses over her throat. Every so often he moaned her full name – Guinevere – against her ear, caressing each syllable in a way she'd never heard from anyone but him. Each time he, she'd grip his shoulders tighter, sometimes gasping his given name in return. Then she would feel his lips curl against her skin into a smile, because she knew that for whatever reason he liked it when she called him that – Arthur.
It did not take her long to find her release again, Arthur following not long behind. He rolled off her, both of them panting heavily.
A few minutes passed, before Gwen deemed it the right time for her to leave. So she sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed to get up. But before she could, she felt a strong arm wrapped around her waist.
"Just where do you think you're going?"
"Home," she answered promptly.
Arthur began to place kisses over her shoulder. "So soon?"
She tried to ignore her body's reaction to him. "You're insatiable, did you know that?"
"When it comes to you, I am."
Gwen's face became heated once again. "I don't know why, my lord." It's not like she was the most experienced of women. She'd only been with one other boy from the village, which paled in comparison to some girls. There were definitely more practiced women.
"It's 'Arthur,'" he reminded. "And I don't know why, either, Guinevere. It's unexplainable."
He was kissing the sensitive spot below her ear now, crumbling Gwen's resolve. He was soon lying back down, pulling her on top of him. She surrendered all too easily, propping herself up to kiss him.
They'd certainly been kissing a lot that night, especially while not actually in coitus. But it was hard to complain when his mouth was making her body quiver, growing warm and pliant for him.
It seemed she was not the only one responding to their kisses, considering how he was growing hard against her thighs a few minutes later. He groaned, pressing her more firmly against him with his hands on her lower back.
She finally pulled back enough to look at him properly.
"But you're exhausted, my lord," she said decidedly. Catching how his mouth opened to correct her, she added, "Arthur."
He smiled. "Well you're to blame for that, I think."
"Fighting in a tournament every day for the past week is the blame for that."
"And you're not helping."
"I could go –" Gwen made a move to get off him.
"No," he said quickly, his arm tight around her waist. "Just give me a minute to collect my strength."
"Or…" she whispered.
Gwen sat up and straddled his thighs.
Arthur smiled wider. "I think I might like this idea, Guinevere."
She returned his smile, sliding herself onto him and making him moan. His hands found her hips, holding onto her tightly as she started to move. He shut his eyes tight for a moment, his breath catching in his throat before releasing it and muttering something incoherent.
"Guinevere," he moaned, looking up at her.
"Just lie back and relax, my lord," she whispered, milking a particularly long stroke upward before shoving back down.
Arthur grunted, his grip tightening on her hips even more. Then she saw his eyes follow her hand as it traveled up to her breast.
"Bloody hell, Gwen."
She sighed contently as her hand played with her nipples. "Arthur," she whispered breathlessly.
Gwen was feeling the rise of her climax again, her pace increasing as she got closer and closer. Arthur must have sensed it as well, because he had begun thrusting up into her so that she was losing herself quickly. Before she could even fully realize, he then rolled them onto her back and was pounding into her until she arched against him and screamed. Arthur collapsed a minute later, making sure he landed next to her.
This time, Gwen stood up before she was fully recovered, her legs still shaking as she made her way towards her dress. She could sense his eyes on her back as she pulled on her clothes and hear his breathing even out.
"I was wondering if we might be friends, Guinevere."
She turned, seeing how Arthur had propped himself up on his elbow to watch her. "I wouldn't quite consider this something that friends do."
"No, I mean… when we're not doing… this – are we friends?" he asked with what seemed like utmost sincerity.
Raising her eyebrows at him, she hesitated for a moment. "We have mutual friends. But… I don't think I could quite deem us 'friends.'"
"Well, we could be… you know." His voice turned careful, uncertain. "We don't need to be great friends, just … friends." He shrugged his shoulders.
Gwen wet her lips. "Yes. I suppose we could be," she said carefully.
"Good," he nodded. "So until next year?" he asked, unable to suppress a suggestive smile.
"Oh?" she smiled. "I assumed we were good for the next two years, since I allowed you two extra times after the one this morning."
Arthur jokingly narrowed his eyes. "Now that's not fair. You never informed me of such rules."
Gwen opened her mouth to respond. But then she caught his charming grin and decided if they kept up with teasing each other, she might easily find herself with him for the fourth time that day – which although not unappealing, it was already late and she really shouldn't encourage him any more.
"We'll see," she said seriously. Because there was honestly no knowing what might change within that year that could alter their situation.
"And until then…" he said with a slow nod, "friends?"
He said nothing for a bit as he studied her, making her wonder what he was thinking and why he kept pressing this 'friends' issue.
"Good night, my lord," she said finally.
"Good night, Guinevere."