In Kuroinu

Her hips moved and I was awake.

The moon had come up while we slept. It was pouring through the window now, a blue-white wash across the floorboards and the foot of the bed and the pile of clothes we'd left there. The lamp had burned out. Filia was still on top of me, her weight warm and settled, but her hips had shifted and the slow grind of her body against mine had pulled me out of wherever I'd been.

She wasn't asleep. Her breathing was too shallow for sleep and her fingers were moving on my chest, tracing the shape of my collarbone. But her hips were doing something her fingers weren't admitting to. A slow roll, idle, almost absent, except Filia didn't do things absently. She did them on purpose and pretended otherwise.

The room was cool. Night air on my arm where it hung off the mattress edge, the chill across my shins where the blanket had gotten kicked to the floor at some point. But everywhere Filia lay was warm. Her stomach on mine. Her thighs bracketing my hips. The damp heat between her legs where she was pressed against me. That heat had been building for a while. The skin of my stomach was slick where she'd been sliding.

"You're awake," I said.

"Mm." She didn't stop. Her hips rolled again, a long slow drag that pushed my cock flat against my stomach and ground the length of her pussy along the underside, and I was getting hard under her. Stiffening against her thigh. She could feel it. The corner of her mouth moved against my neck.

"How long have you been doing that?"

"A while."

"And you weren't going to say anything."

"I was getting to it." She pushed herself up on her hands. Her hair fell around her face and the moonlight caught the copper in it and her eyes were dark and clear. She looked down at me and her hips pressed forward, deliberate this time, her pussy sliding along my cock from base to tip. Wet. She'd been wet for a while and the slickness had spread between us, a warm smear on my stomach, on the insides of her thighs. She'd been working herself up against me in her sleep or something close to sleep and the evidence was all over both of us.

"I was thinking about the journey," she said.

"With your hips?"

"I think with my whole body. It's efficient."

I laughed. She sat up fully, knees planted on either side of my waist, and her weight settled and my cock was trapped between her pussy and my stomach and she rocked once, slow, coating me. Her thighs flexed. Moonlight cut across her chest and caught the scar on her left side and the muscle in her stomach and the flat plane below her navel. Her nipples were hard. From the cold or from what she'd been doing. Both.

She lifted her hips. Reached between us and wrapped her hand around my cock and stroked, one long pull from base to tip, her callused thumb dragging over the head. I sucked air through my teeth. I'd been asleep ten seconds ago. Everything was too much. Her grip was wet from what she'd left on me and the slide was frictionless and too good.

"Sensitive?" she asked.

"You've been grinding on me in your sleep for however long. Yeah. Sensitive."

"I wasn't sleeping." She stroked again. Firmer. Her grip twisted on the upstroke and my hips jerked and she watched my reaction with that sharp focus she used when learning a new technique. Her hand was hot and slick and my cock throbbed against her palm and I could feel my pulse in it. She ran her thumb along the vein on the underside, slow, studying, and then pressed it.

"Nn-"

Her eyebrow went up. "There?"

"You know where."

"I do." She did it again. My stomach tightened and my hands found her thighs and gripped and she watched that too.

Then she let go. Shifted her weight. And turned around.

She swung her leg over me and for a second I was exposed to the cool air, the night chill hitting everywhere she'd been warm, my cock wet and hard and abandoned, and then she resettled with her back to my face. Her spine was straight and pale in the moonlight, the muscles of her back shifting as she adjusted her knees. Her ass in my lap, round and tight, and her shoulder blades moving under her skin when she reached between her legs and found me.

She positioned the head against her. Held there. One second. Two. Wet heat against my tip and neither of us moved. A pulse in the contact, hers or mine, and the room was very quiet and I was very hard.

She sank down.

"Ah-" Quiet. Controlled. She took me slow, inch by inch, and her back arched as she went. The angle was completely different from this direction. The head of my cock dragged along her front wall and she felt it because her thighs tensed on my hips and her fingers dug into my legs when she bottomed out and her breath left her in a long unsteady push. Deeper on this side. Tighter. She felt different from every other time, every angle rearranged, and the heat was everywhere, clenching, and I stopped thinking.

The wet sound of her taking me all the way in was louder than either of us expected. The room was quiet and the sound was obscene and she paused with me buried in her, her whole body still.

She didn't say anything. The back of her neck had gone pink.

I put my hands on her hips. The muscles in her waist were working as she adjusted, shifting her weight, finding the angle. She leaned forward slightly, bracing her hands on my shins, and started to move.

Filia rode reverse cowgirl the way she rode everything else. Focused. Methodical at first, then less. Her hips rolled in long strokes, lifting until I nearly slipped out, the head catching at the edge, cool air on the wet length of me for a second, and then dropping back in one smooth descent that buried me to the hilt. Every time she bottomed out her ass pressed flat against my hips and her pussy squeezed once, that deliberate clench she did, and the wet sound echoed off the stone walls.

She wasn't looking at me. She was facing the window, the moon or the rooftops or nothing at all, and her hips never stopped. The rhythm was steady and unhurried and she was taking her time with it. Experimenting. She tilted forward and my cock dragged along a different spot and she made a sound through her nose, short and clipped, and did it again. And again. Finding it. Mapping it.

"Nn-"

She changed the angle another fraction and the sound changed. Wetter. Her breathing was faster now, through her nose still, each exhale matching her hips. I watched her back. The long groove of her spine. Her shoulder blades pulling together when she leaned forward and spreading apart when she sat up. Scars I'd traced with my fingers in the dark after the first time, thin white lines from training accidents and one thicker one along her ribs from something she'd never explained. Her hair was swinging with each stroke, dark copper in the moonlight, and the muscles in her lower back flexed every time she dropped her hips.

She was getting wetter around me. Each stroke slicker than the last, the friction easing, the sounds getting louder. The pace picked up. Still controlled but hungrier, her hips dropping faster, the slap of her ass against my hips filling the quiet room alongside her breathing. Every time she rose up my cock glistening with her, the moonlight catching the wet along the shaft before she took me back in.

"You're staring," she said. She couldn't see me but she knew.

"Admiring."

"It's the same- nn- the same thing."

"It really isn't."

I dug my fingers into her hips and pulled her down harder on the next stroke and she gasped and her head dropped forward and her hair swung. The sound when I bottomed out was loud and wet and her fingers went white on my shins.

"Again-"

I pulled her down. She pushed back to meet me and we hit a rhythm that was faster, harder, her thighs trembling against the outside of mine. Her pussy was clenching on every downstroke now, squeezing tight around me on the way down and releasing on the way up, and the wet sounds were constant, shameless, each one louder than the last. Sweat was starting on her lower back, a faint sheen the moonlight caught. My cock was aching inside her and the friction was turning my skull to static and I was starting to have the stamina conversation with myself. Not yet. Not yet.

She reached behind her. Her hand found mine on her hip and she grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand forward, around her waist, up her stomach, and pressed my palm flat against her breast.

"Touch me."

Her voice was low and the breath behind it was rough and she held my hand against her chest and squeezed my fingers over her nipple and it hardened under my palm. She kept riding. My hand on her breast and her hand over mine, pressing my grip tighter, and her hips were working in short hard drops that took me deep. Her breathing had left her nose. Open mouth now. Each exhale ragged, cut with the impact of her hips on mine.

I sat up.

My chest pressed against her back and the heat was immediate, her sweat-damp skin against mine, and my arms went around her and my mouth found the side of her neck. She made a sound when my lips touched her skin, a surprised exhale that caught in her throat, and she turned her head to give me more of her neck and her hips stuttered for a second before picking up again.

The angle changed when I sat up. Deeper. Tighter. She was in my lap now, her back against my chest, and every time she ground down I was hitting a spot I couldn't reach before and she knew it because her breathing changed. Shorter. Shallower. Breathing she couldn't fake.

I had both hands on her now. One on her breast, kneading, my thumb rolling her nipple in slow circles. The other low on her stomach, fingers spread over the muscle there, feeling it flex every time she moved. I kissed up the side of her neck to the spot below her ear and her whole body shivered in my arms. Her skin was hot under my lips and tasted like salt.

"Haru-"

"Right here."

"Don't- nn- don't be smug about it-"

I bit her neck. Gentle. Teeth against the tendon, just enough pressure to feel. She jolted and her pussy clamped around me hard enough that my vision went white at the edges and she made a sound louder than anything in the first round.

"Ah- oh-"

"Found it," I said against her skin.

"Shut- nn- shut up-" Her hand found the back of my head and gripped my hair and pushed my mouth harder against her neck. Her hips were grinding fast and messy now, her rhythm gone, chasing it. The long controlled strokes had collapsed into a tight desperate roll, her ass moving in my lap in circles, keeping me deep, pressing down hard. The wet sound of her grinding on my cock was everywhere. The slick squelching that got louder every time she shifted her weight, how wet she was, audible to both of us.

"You're soaking," I said against her neck.

"I know- I- shut up-" Her face was turned away from me but the flush was down her neck and across her shoulder and her ears were red and her hips hadn't stopped. Hadn't even slowed down.

My hand slid from her stomach down between her legs. My fingers found her clit and she jerked in my arms like I'd hit her with a current.

"Right- there- don't- ah- don't stop-"

I rubbed her clit in a tight circle while she ground down on my cock and my teeth grazed her neck and my other hand squeezed her breast. She was shaking in my arms, her thighs locked against mine, her stomach rigid under my forearm. Her head tipped back against my shoulder and her jaw in profile, the tendons in her neck pulling tight. The set. Her jaw was working, grinding, and her grip on the back of my head was white-knuckled and her left hand had found my thigh and was digging in hard enough to bruise.

The jaw thing. The grip. She was close.

"I'm- Haruto- I'm-"

She came.

Her back arched against my chest so hard her shoulder blades ground into me and her head pressed into my shoulder and her mouth opened and the sound was raw, a moan that started in her chest and tore out of her throat, louder than she wanted, louder than she'd let it be if she had any say left, and her pussy clenched around me in waves that were harder than the first round, tighter, rhythmic, squeezing and releasing in deep contractions that pulled at my cock from the inside. Her hand on the back of my head gripped so hard my scalp stung. Her thighs locked against mine, shaking, and her stomach was a board under my forearm and her hips were still grinding, tiny desperate circles, her body chasing the last of it. One shudder. Two. Three. On the third one a broken exhale punched out of her and her fingers went slack in my hair and her body sagged against me.

The Blessing pulsed. Warm. Familiar. Smaller than the first time but steady. It settled into both of us and stayed.

I held her hips and thrust up into her. She was limp against my chest, still shivering, still clenching in aftershocks, and my cock was throbbing inside her and I couldn't- the pressure had been building since she started grinding in her sleep and her orgasm squeezing around me had pushed me to the edge and I was right there. I thrust again, hard, and her body rocked in my arms and she made a small sound against my jaw, a wrecked "mm," and I thrust again and her hand found my arm around her waist and held it and she turned her head and her lips brushed my ear.

"Come," she whispered.

I came. Deep inside her, arms locked around her waist, face in her neck, and everything went tight and hot and white. My hips moved on their own, short hard pushes, and I was pulsing inside her and I couldn't- I don't know what sound I made. Loud. I'd deny it later. She held my arms against her stomach with both hands and my cock throbbed inside her in long waves and I breathed against her skin and that was all I had for a while.

Quiet.

Her breathing ragged against the side of my head. Mine ragged against her neck. The moonlight had shifted while we'd been going and now it fell across the bed in a wide stripe that caught her legs and my hands around her waist and the tangled sheets. The sheets under us were damp. Sweat and everything else. Her thighs were slick and the mess between us was warm.

She didn't move off me. She stayed in my lap, my cock still inside her, softening, her back against my chest. Her hands resting on my forearms, thumbs moving in slow circles on my skin. My chin on her shoulder. Her hair against my jaw, sticking to the sweat on my neck.

A cat was yowling somewhere in the city. Two or three streets away, from the sound of it. Loud and unhappy about something.

"Leonora gave me the details this afternoon," Filia said. Her voice was hoarse. She cleared her throat once and it didn't help. "While you were sparring with the guard captain at Hadern."

"Details about the Alliance?"

"Celestine Lucross. The High Queen." She turned her head slightly. Her cheek brushed mine. Her eyes were half-closed. Her lips swollen from biting them. A flush still on her cheeks that she was pretending wasn't there. "You know that name?"

"You've mentioned her."

"She's a high elf. Centuries old, from what the histories say. The people of the northern territories worship her as the reincarnation of the Goddess Larentia." Filia's finger traced a line along my forearm. Her nail dragged lightly through the hair on my arm. Idle. Distracted. "She governs the fortress-city of Geofu. It's the seat of the Alliance."

Geofu. Where Celestine held court and saw visions and trusted Claudia with her life and had no idea that every institution propping up her kingdom was already rotten with Vault's people. Where Alicia would ride out to save hostages that couldn't be saved. Where Prim would be taken second because she was the easiest target once Alicia fell.

"Seven fortress-cities," I said. "Seven princess knights."

"You remembered." She shifted in my lap and my cock twitched inside her, softening, and she settled again like she hadn't noticed. Or had noticed and didn't care. "Celestine, Claudia, Alicia, Prim, Kaguya, Maia, and Luu-Luu. The messenger's letter mentioned the Black Dogs, too. A mercenary company. They've been doing the bulk of the fighting on the northern front."

Vault's company. Said out loud in Filia's voice, matter-of-fact, while she sat naked in my lap with my cum inside her and moonlight on her legs. The man who was going to betray every one of those women and build an empire on their bodies.

"Big outfit?" I asked.

"Thousands. Their leader is well-regarded. A man named Vault."

The name landed in the room and just sat there.

"Leonora says the Alliance is confident about the war effort. Olga's forces have been weakening. The Black Dogs are pushing toward the Black Fortress." She paused. Her finger had stopped on my arm. "But the messenger also said the princess knights are spread thin. Seven cities, seven rulers, and they're not coordinating well. Celestine holds them together through faith, not through a command structure."

Celestine's faith in people was going to get her destroyed. She'd look at Vault and see an ally. He'd smile and nod and plan the end of everything she'd built.

"We should meet with all of them," I said. "Not just Celestine. Every princess knight, if we can. Get a full picture."

"That's ambitious. They're governing separate cities across a thousand miles of frontier."

"Then we travel."

She was quiet for a few seconds. My arms were still around her and her body was warm against mine and the cat outside had stopped yowling.

"You have opinions about a kingdom you've never seen," she said. Careful. The same careful tone she used when she caught me knowing things I shouldn't.

"I have opinions about everything. You've met me."

She exhaled through her nose. Amused, too wiped out for the real laugh. She leaned her head back against my shoulder and her hair tickled my jaw and she closed her eyes.

"Three days," she said. "I'll draft the travel plan tomorrow. Llusse can scout the northern road ahead of us. Tianne needs to stock healing supplies." Her voice was going soft at the edges. Drowsy. Filing reports from my lap. "Mila's already packing. She started this afternoon."

"Of course she did."

"She packed your bag first."

I smiled. Filia couldn't see it but she must have felt it because her hand pressed down on my forearm.

"Get some sleep," she said. "Long days coming."

"You're the one still sitting on me."

"I'm comfortable." She didn't open her eyes. "Deal with it."

I rested my chin on her shoulder. Her breathing was slowing and her weight was settling and she was going to fall asleep in my lap, still connected, because Filia Shiora did not relocate from a position she found satisfactory.

The moon was high now. Bright through the window, throwing shadows from the frame across the floor. Somewhere north of here, Celestine Lucross was probably looking at this same moon. Alicia sharpening her sword at Feoh. Claudia on her way home to Klaus. Maia drinking with soldiers she thought were her friends, buying rounds for men who were going to betray her. Kaguya at prayer. Prim writing her cousin a letter. And Luu-Luu at her forge, because Luu-Luu was always at her forge.

Filia's breathing evened out. I held her and watched the moonlight move across the floor and thought about the road north and the women at the end of it who were running out of time.

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