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Chapter Text

Steam filled the bathroom, curling lazily in the heat-warmed space as he stood beneath the spray of the shower - the patter of water against the tiles masked the stutter of his breathing, each breath heavier than the last as his hand continued its slow motions.

It was rare that he found himself in situations like this, alone with nothing but his hand and the flood of images that urged him on - the hour was late, the house empty save for him and the furry beasts that prowled the shadows of the lounge as Sable had been called into cover a shift at the morgue.

With another slow breath Emmrich let his head tip forward, temple pressing into wet tile of the wall - it hadn't taken long to bring himself to full hardness, mind full of blue eyes, freckled skin and soft curves. Each tug of his hand, fingers wrapped tightly around the slick length of his cock.

The water eased the slide of his hand, making each tug, each slow drag, easier - his hips trembled, feet planted firmly on tiled floor as he continued to bring himself closer, lips parted soundlessly.

Something coiled low in his belly, lean muscles fluttering beneath softened, hair dappled skin - his cock throbbed, hot and heavy in the tight grip of his palm, and finally a low sound escaped him, eyes closing as he chased the heat of his release.

Lost beneath spray of the shower he didn't hear the clink of keys or the quiet pad of feet on the carpeted stairs - eyes still closed, back to the rest of the bathroom, he missed the click of the door opening and the rustle of clothing.

Slim arms wrapped around his waist, soft hands replacing his.

"Sable-"

"Let me help."

Emmrich felt the press of her mouth against the shower slick skin of his shoulder even as he let her take over - her rhythm was steady, delicate fingers curling around his cock in a way that had him bracing himself against the wall, head bowed.

Each teasing stroke brought him closer, the hand not wrapped around his cock splayed across his stomach to steady him as she muttered soft words into his shoulder.

"I've got you," her voice was quiet beneath the hum of the shower though he felt her mouth move against his skin - she inched closer, breasts pressed into his back. "Are you close?"

"Yes-"

Emmrich felt the twitch in his hips, fingers slipping against the wet tiles of the wall just a little when her thumb caught against the vein that ran along the length of underside of his cock.

"There we go."

The warmth of her burnt through the heat of the water, pulling him from the hold of the images in his mind until there was nothing but the two of them - the hand on his stomach flexed, fingers sinking into the softened flesh, as a low sound dragged from his throat.

His release came with little fanfare as she eased him through it - thick pearly ropes painting where her hand remained wrapped around him before splattering across the tiled floor, only to be washed away by the spray of the shower

Emmrich held himself there, eyes still closed as he waited for the trembling in his thighs to ease - he heard her soft murmurings, hands making light work of cleaning up the mess he had made as best she could, still pressed against his spine. When the threat of his legs giving beneath him passed he turned, hands reaching for her as he took in the lazy smirk that curled at the corners of her mouth.

"Did you miss me?"

Blue eyes sparkled brightly, cheeks flushed from the heat of the shower as Sable tipped her chin up to meet his gaze. The flush deepened as she let Emmrich guide her backwards until she felt the press of tiles against her spine - she watched as he stepped closer, sinking to his knees as his hands curled around her hips.

"Of course I did," Emmrich laughed, nodding when hands threaded into the wet lengths of his hair. "Now let me return the favour."

Chapter Text

The lecture hall was empty, its rows of polished seats gleaming faintly in the light from the hanging sconces. Ivy lingered by the desk at the front - his desk - her skirt a little too short, her blouse tied loose at the waist. Because she had undone the front buttons low, the lace of her lilac bra would be difficult to miss. The look on her face said everything - mischief, challenge, and a dare for him to break first.

Emmrich shut the heavy oak doors behind him. The click of the lock echoed in the silence.

“Miss Ingellvar,” he said, his voice the clipped authority of a man used to command. “You are trespassing in my lecture hall after hours.”

Biting her lip, she tilted her head. “I thought I could use some… private tutoring, Professor.”

His hazel eyes narrowed, though hunger sparked in their depths. “And what lesson are you hoping to learn dressed like this?”

She hopped up onto the desk, the hem of her skirt sliding higher on her thighs. “Oh, I think you know.”

His composure slipped, just a little. He stalked forward; the air tightening around him. When he stopped in front of her, his hands caged her against the desk, his mouth brushing her ear.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, little scholar.”

“Then fail me,” she whispered back, taunting him.

That snapped the leash. He spun her off the desk and bent her over it, her palms splayed against the polished wood. Her skirt flipped up with one rough sweep of his large hand, baring her.

“You come into my hall,” he growled, pressing his cock hard against her ass through his trousers, “dressed like this, begging for attention. Do you know what that makes you?”

“Your best student?” she teased breathlessly.

“The opposite, my dear.” He smirked darkly, dragging her matching panties down her thighs. “You need Detention.”

The sound she made when he pushed inside - deep, hard, without hesitation - echoed through the empty hall. He held her hips firmly, every thrust making the desk creak beneath her.

“Is this what you wanted?” he hissed, each word punctuated by another sharp snap of his hips.

“Yes, Professor,” she gasped, clinging to the desk edge.

Her moans bounced from the stone walls, filling the cavernous space as he drove her harder, one hand tangling in her hair, pulling her head back.

“Good girl,” he growled against her ear. “Now learn your lesson properly.”

He didn’t slow. His fingers dug into her hips, and he drove her with consecutive, punishing thrusts. The wood beneath them complaining, her breath breaking ragged on each savage snap. Then he wrenched her back by the hair, pulled out, and spun her so her ass hit the desk edge, her back bowing, as he moved her into the position he wanted.

“Face me.”

She did - flushed, wrecked, blouse askew, eyes glassy, and lips parted. He fisted the white of the fabric, ripped it open, buttons clattering across the floor, then shoved her bra down so her breasts spilt into his hands. He bent, bit her nipple, sucked hard until she cried his title, then straightened, mouth wet, eyes dark.

“Hold them for me,” he said, voice gone rough.

She wrapped her hands beneath the swell of them and pressed her breasts together, offering herself up with a wicked smile. He ran his fingers through her folds and gathered up her slick, coating his cock first, then used his thumb, smearing it along the soft skin of her cleavage.

“Good girl,” he murmured, stepping in close.

He slid between the tight press of her tits, the hot velvet of them closing around his shaft. The head dragged up, kissed her throat, then slid down again. He set his hands over hers, squeezing, driving himself faster, the slick obscene sound echoing in the empty hall.

“Eyes on me,” he ordered.

She looked up at him - wide, shining - while he fucked her breasts, hips snapping, breath shredding into curses. Her tongue peeked between the top curves for a teasing lick when the crown stroked high; he hissed and thrust harder, the desk skidding a fraction on stone.

“Say it,” he ground out. “Whose are you?”

“Yours, Professor,” she gasped, pressing tighter for him, letting him use her. “Use me.”

He did, rough, relentless, every glide up smearing her throat with precum, every slide down punching a helpless moan from her. She trembled, still raw from the way he’d had her from behind, thighs clenching as the desk bit into the backs of her legs.

His rhythm broke; his jaw locked. “Open,” he snarled.

She parted her lips, tongue out, eyes never leaving his. He drove once, twice - shuddered - and came hard, hot ropes striping her tongue, her collarbone, spilling thick between her pressed tits until it pooled warm in her cleavage. He kept her squeezed a heartbeat longer, milking the last pulses over her skin; she whimpered at the heat, at the mess, at the way he watched her like he might devour her whole.

Silence swallowed them, save for their breathing. He eased his hands away, thumb smearing a streak up her throat and into her open mouth; she sucked it clean, wicked and obedient.

“Lesson learned?” he asked, a rough smirk cutting across his mouth.

She smiled back - glossy, ruined, breasts glistening where she still held them together for him. “I might need… extra detention, Professor.”

His laugh was low and dangerous. “Tomorrow,” he said, tucking himself away, eyes never leaving the mess he’d left on her. “Bring a fresh blouse.”

Chapter Text

Sable had had boyfriends before Emmrich. A few bold, fresh faced young men who had tried to cop a feel when the mood took them. There had even been that rather pretty Orlesian transfer student who had taught her how to remove someone's bra with one hand.

Then her entire world had been blown wide open by a silver haired beanpole of a man.

He had promised to give her the world and he had more than delivered.

He had been the first to love her - not accounting for her parents, though that was mandatory. Obviously…

He had been the first to truly see her.

He had been the one to show her that there was more to life than burnt coffee and three hours of sleep a night.

He had also been the one to show her that it was okay to want more.

Emmrich had let her explore her own needs and desires, never with judgement or mockery - he answered questions without hesitation, encouraged her to try new things. He had even let her tie him up - she had enjoyed that much more than she thought she would.

So when she had caught the eye of the pretty, dark-haired woman from across the bar he had done little more than nod at her unspoken question, a hand pressed firmly against her spine before he took his drink and moved back to their table in the corner.

Warmed by the whiskey she had been drinking and the woman's blatant interest it hadn't taken long to get her name - Ivy was sharp, straight to the point and bold enough that when she had leaned over their drinks, palm warm against her thigh it had been as simple as meeting Emmrich's gaze across the room. He had gathered up their jackets, her bag swung over his shoulder and made his way to the bar - he had paid their tab, a hand held out in offering to both woman as they slipped down from their stools and calmly followed the pair.

Sable really had lucked out with him.

There were not many men who would allow their partners such freedom in exploring themselves and fewer still that did so with the encouragement that he did - he denied her nothing, secure in the knowledge that she would always come back to him.

It certainly didn't hurt when he joined in.

There was something to be said for having sex with multiple people at the same time. Many hands made light work as her mother used to say… though Sable didn't think this was what she had had in mind.

Ivy had been more than happy for Emmrich to join them and when he had waited for Sable to agree, his need for her consent ever present, she had simply taken the pair by the hand after he had locked the door and led them upstairs.

Now she found herself pressed between them, the bedroom warm and the air filled with soft sighs and needy whimpers. The sheets had been thrown back, their clothes folded and gathered tidily atop the dresser that sat across from the bed - Emmrich had ignored their laughter when he had bent down to gather up the scattered pieces of clothing, a single brow raised sharply before he had joined them atop the bed.

Ivy lay back across the sheets, cheeks flushed and hair loose across the pillows - it hadn't taken the three of them long to find their rhythm and Ivy had been more than happy to be the foundation in their tangle of limbs. Arms stretched above her head as Sable crowded down over her, she painted a delightful picture as slim, freckled hands sought out hers, fingers lacing together.

"So pretty," the words were murmured between heated kisses, gloss stained lips smeared as she chased the whiskey that still lingered on Sable's tongue. "It's almost unfair."

Whatever response Sable had meant to come out with was thrown against the wall when her breath caught, their mouths brushing as ring clad fingers tightened around her hips, steadying her. Her eyes closed, head dropping until her face was pressed into the curve of Ivy's throat - she felt the fingers laced through hers tighten when Emmrich rocked his hips again and moaned, the sound muffled into flushed skin.

"Though it is difficult for me to remain impartial," Emmrich could hear the breathless edge to his voice as he used his hold on Sable's hips to draw her back against him. "You are both indeed very-" Another rock of his hips, another wrecked sound from the silver haired woman held between them. "-very pretty."

Ivy laughed, loose and relaxed after Sable had spent far too much energy wrangling not one but two orgasms from her. "He really is quite charming." She heard the muffled laugh before Sable finally lifted her head, blue eyes bright as she released the other woman's hands so that she could brace them either side of her head.

"You have-" Hands cradled her jaw as Ivy leaned up to kiss her, before she pulled back, hair spilling around her shoulders again. "-have no idea."

It was little more than a needy whimper that followed her words as Emmrich draped himself over her with a low groan, a hand still curled around her hip as the other landed atop one of hers. Ivy watched as Sable's eyes closed, lashes fluttering against flushed cheeks as her mouth fell open soundlessly, and without thought reached out, her arms wrapping around the pair and tugging until they were cradled between her thighs.

It really was just a tangle of limbs, all sweaty skin and mussed hair - the bedroom heavy with the sounds of heavy breathing and the rustle of sheets as they lay there.

It was Ivy that broke the comfortable silence, not at all bothered by the weight of the two of them atop her. "So is now a good time to ask if you two are regulars at that bar?"

Chapter Text

Emmrich didn’t mean to spy.

He meant to come home like a civilised man - loosen his tie, kiss her neck, pretend the day hadn’t scraped him to the bone after back-to-back meetings. Instead, the penthouse was dim and quiet except for the bathroom fan and the rush of water. Steam breathed through the gap in the en-suite door, the light silvered into his bedroom.

He paused.

From the angle of the opening, he caught the mirror, fogged and haloed, and in it, Ivy turned under the shower. She had one hand braced against the tile, the other between her thighs, holding the removable shower head, working herself with ruthless focus that made his mouth go dry. Water-stitched lines down the curve of her breasts from the overhead rainfall showerhead; her nipples were hard and glossy; her stomach jumped when her fingers circled higher.

She didn’t hear him.

Emmrich set his briefcase down as if it might detonate and drifted to the wall opposite the door, shoulder to the painted plaster, his breath shallow. A stupid little laugh wanted to break loose in his chest because he couldn’t believe he was this lucky - to see her like this, unguarded and greedy, his Ivy with her head tipped back and her lips apart, riding her what she could as if she’d been starving all day.

He palmed himself through his suit trousers and was already hard. Silently unbuckling, he lowered his zipper with a wince, and freed himself - heavy, flushed, already glistening from shock. He fished his green silk handkerchief from his breast pocket and kept it in his left hand. With his right hand, he wrapped his fist around his cock and started to stroke, slow and quiet, eyes never leaving the mirror.

She shifted a fraction, opened for herself, the pulse from the water on her clit, one of her fingers sliding lower, testing, pushing. The angle dragged a sound out of her that went straight to his spine. He had a crystal-clear view of the way her thighs trembled, the way her calves flexed and released with each little grind.

He’d spent a day pretending to be made of stone. That pretence dissolved in seconds. He was immediately awestruck, a combination of stupidity and reverence. His hands weren’t as steady as they should be, from just seeing her gasp for breath. That morning, he had signed a billion-dollar gold-credit transfer, a mundane act compared to the way she slowly inserted a finger inside herself, a gesture that almost buckled her knees.

“Fuck,” he breathed, so soft the fan took it. He stroked again, mean and measured, heel of his hand pressing the underside the way she liked to do when she went down on him. He watched the way her mouth formed nothing, then almost formed his name, then didn’t.

She worked herself harder - two fingers now, slick and sure, the jet of water held to that sweet spot. She slipped; her shoulder kissed the tile; she caught herself on a braced forearm and pressed her forehead to the wall, hips rolling into her own hand like she couldn’t stand being empty. He matched her without meaning to, breath syncing to the stutter in her shoulders.

Water ran everywhere. The room smelled of her soap and steam, with the hint of his cologne still lingering in the air from the morning. He imagined stepping in, imagined joining her, imagined the little gasp she’d make when he set her knee on the bench and filled her - his cock throbbed in his fist at the picture, and he had to stop, bite the silk in his left hand and breathe.

She moaned.

It wasn’t loud. It didn’t have to be. But it landed like a hand around his throat.

He let go of the handkerchief, stroked faster, thumb sliding over the wet crown, the sound damped by the silk crushed in his other fist. In the mirror, she tilted her chin, eyes closed, lashes spiked; her belly trembled under the water as she chased it. He wanted to talk to her through the door, but didn’t. He wanted to watch her take it with no witnesses but him, and he did.

“Emmrich,” she panted.

It was nothing - just his name, fractured and soft - but it was also everything. The sweetest thing he’d ever heard. No past lover, no polished sin, no prayer had ever landed like the way she said it. His knees went hot and unreliable; the world narrowed to the drag of his palm and the sight of her in the mirror, open and wrecked and touching herself to the thought of him.

He got four more strokes before she broke.

Her body locked and shuddered; she pressed her mouth to her shoulder and came, wet hand working through it, thighs quaking under the spray, breath knocked out of her in a small, helpless sound that would have put him on his knees if he wasn’t already braced like a man in a storm.

And then he broke.

The silk went low to cover his weeping head; his right hand jerked hard. He came with a strangled groan, spilling hot into the silk and over his knuckles, knees shaking so badly he had to catch himself on the doorframe. He kept watching her even while the aftershocks tore at him - watched the little after-tremors run through her calves and lower belly, watched her fingers slow and then ease away, watched her breathe.

Silence, except the hiss of the shower.

He wiped his hand, folded the silk with obscene care and tucked it back into his pocket, heart still jackhammering the inside of his ribs. He slid himself away, tucked, zipped, buckled, leaned his head to the wall, and laughed once - quiet, wrecked, grateful.

In the mirror, her eyes opened at last. She didn’t look at the door. Didn’t say a word. She rolled her head against the tile and turned her face up into the water like a woman washing a secret off her skin.

He pushed away from the wall and padded down the hall like he’d only just arrived, tie loosened, voice steadying around a practised nothing.

In his chest, the afterglow went deep and dangerous.

He had it bad for her. And watching her like this - awe burning the edges of his hunger - felt less like a sin and more like proof: if she whispered his name even when she thought he couldn’t hear, then all that remained was deciding when to let her know he’d heard it and would spend the rest of the night making her say it again.

Chapter Text

Emmrich was a very pretty man.

As far as Sable was concerned there were few pretty in the way that he was - unable to mirror the elegant way in which he carried himself, or imitate the soft eloquence with which he spoke.

But it was more than just that.

His eyes, in the right light - the kind of light she was met with in their kitchen first thing in the morning - shone with flecks of green and gold that she was convinced would make the strongest man or woman weep.

Silvered-hair that somehow remained swept back perfectly even without the aid of whatever organic pomade he purchased the week before - lengths of it still dark enough to draw the eye when he stepped into the room and deceptively soft when she was finally able to get her hands into it.

His cheekbones, sharp enough that she had to fight the urge to gnaw on them when she took his face between her hands, were truly a blessing from his mother - the same delicate bone structure visible in the few photos she had seen from his childhood.

Broad shoulders that carried the tailored lines of his suit, balanced without being bulky, tapered down into what she could only describe as the most sinful of waists - he was all lean, well maintained muscle, tucked away beneath a belly that had softened with age and hair dappled skin.

But that wasn't what had her all hot and bothered today.

No.

That would be his hands.

Emmrich's hands were truly a work of art.

Long fingers and delicate wrists that bore the weight of his grave gold without complaint - his hands haunted her, in the best possible way. Her notebooks were filled with rough, hastily drawn sketches that had brought a delightful flush to his cheeks when he had found them and there was never a day where she did not seek out the warmth of his palms or the gentle strength of his grip.

Today, however… had her thinking of other things he could do with his hands.

Emmrich had insisted on baking, of all things, when they had found themselves with a few hours of peace - taking great joy in pulling out the small tin from a cupboard that housed the aged recipe cards that had belonged to his mother before her death.

Sable had been content to hop up onto the counter, legs swinging as he pulled things from cupboards and gathered bowls from the shelves - it was easy to watch him, his voice warm as he spoke softly.

Then he had let some chocolate spill from one of the glass bowl, thick and syrupy from where he had melted it - blue eyes followed the long finger that ran up along the side of the bowl, gathering up the trail of chocolate before he had popped into his mouth, humming quietly before he moved to gather up what he had missed.

Something coiled low in her belly as she watched the chocolate coat his finger once more and when he went to lift it to his mouth once more a small sound left her - Emmrich turned, brow raised, mouth curled just a little at the corner, when he saw the flush spread across her cheeks, darkening the freckles that lay there.

"Yes?"

Sable shifted, hips inching forward atop the kitchen counter. "I think you should let me help clean that for you."

Emmrich laughed, feet already carrying him towards her. "Is that so?"

"Seeing as you are baking for me-" hands reached for him, fingers tangling into his belt loops as she pulled him between her thighs. "-it would only be fair of me to help."

"Hmmm," he watched as she reached for his hand, fingers curling around his wrist. "Well, I would be a fool to refuse your help, wouldn't I?"

"A huge one."

Gloss painted lips parted and welcomed the slide of his finger along her tongue - his free hand settled against her waist as he stepped closer, feeling her legs hook around the back of his thighs to hold him in place. The same lips then closed, sealing around his finger with a soft hum - the wet heat of her mouth drew a groan from him, the sight of her cheeks hollowing as she pulled him deeper sending a shiver down his spine.

His hand flexed against her side when she released his finger with a wet pop, his skin slick and shiny - blue eyes met hazel and without the need for encouragement Emmrich reached for the bowl of melted chocolate, drawing it along the counter until it sat beside her. He dipped his finger back into it, letting it coat the digit before lifting it.

"It would seem I require a little more of your help, my love."

Sable smirked. "Would you look at that?"

This time she merely opened her mouth, brow raised in challenge. The air warmed between them as she watched his own cheeks flush and when the chocolate covered finger met her tongue once more she groaned before sealing her lips back around it - her tongue moved, wiping away the mess before she swallowed, letting the motion pull him deeper when she heard his breath catch.

When he went to pull his finger free her teeth caught against his knuckle, drawing a huffed laugh from him before she released it - his hand reached for the bowl again though he was too quick for her this time, the melted chocolate painting a trail across the corner of her mouth and over the curve of her cheek.

"Oh no," Sable let herself lean back, one hand reaching for the neckline of his sweater before she tugged him closer. "Look's like I need cleaning up as well."

Emmrich followed, the hand that had been holding her waist shifting to flatten against the counter beside her, as he popped his finger into his mouth, cleaning away what remained of the chocolate before his hand fell away, mirroring its partner. "Let me help you."

Chapter Text

It was all Iris's fault.

It had been years since she last saw the brunette, the two having moved in separate circles after settling into university - where Sable had gone into ethnobotany, Iris had always been the cleverer of the two of them with her skills in computer science. They had exchanged messages, the occasional selfie and update, but when a conference had brought the self-acclaimed nerd back into Nevarra Sable had jumped at the opportunity to meet.

It had been easy enough to find a spot in both their diaries where they had a few hours each - she had wandered into the study that morning, Emmrich perched behind his desk, and told him that she would be out for a while. He had nodded happily, humming when she leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek, only to laugh when he had reminded her that she was to only use the shiny, black credit card tucked away in her purse.

They had met at Sable's favourite coffee shop, hugs exchanged and arms linked, before wandering off into the shopping district.

Iris was… Iris. Foul-mouthed and unflinching as the two wandered in and out of boutiques, it was like nothing had changed - it had also taken her no time at all to wheedle out the details of the man behind the credit card that payed for their lunch. Where she would have expected judgement and criticism from anyone else, Iris had met her only with a knowing look and the question of whether he was good in bed.

It was also Iris that had led her into the little shop tucked away on a side street, her phone having led them through the district, after Sable had mentioned wanting to update her summer wardrobe. The inside was filled with racks upon racks of brightly coloured cotton and lace, a world away from the her normal choices - but then her friend had pulled her to the back of the store, where a rack of sundresses had been tucked away.

Sable had let herself be talked into trying the green one on after complaining that it really wasn't her normal style - Iris had pushed the hanger into her hands with a smirk and plopped herself down onto a stool outside the changing both, phone already in hand. Her sigh of acceptance had been met with a snorted laugh from outside the curtain as she had turned in front of the mirror. The dress was all delicate straps and flowing skirt that had sat rather prettily around her knees, the cotton a soft green that she knew Emmrich would appreciate.

She had ignored Iris's teasing as the dress was bagged up and credit card swiped before the two had left - they wandered back through the district, agreeing to meet for dinner before Iris left the city again. She had also promised to update her on Emmrich's reaction to the dress.

He had been waiting for her, hip propped against the door as the car service had driven away and held a hand as she approached the door - a quietly murmured "welcome home" and hand cradled around her jaw as he leaned down to kiss her, he had then led her inside. It was almost like Iris had planned it when he had asked if she would like to go out for lunch the next day, so with a soft laugh she had agreed.

The weather had called for light clothing, the air warm and sky clear, so with a shake of her head she had put on the sundress, gathered her hair back into its customary braid and gone downstairs. Emmrich had met her with wide eyes, following her descent silently - Sable had laughed at the haste with which he had moved towards her, a hand curling around her knee as she stopped a few steps above him. She smiled nervously, the dress very much a step away from her usual choice of jeans and leather jacket. The brush of fingers as his hand wandered from her knee up the back of her thigh before he had sucked in a deep breath reassured her - she had watched as his gaze shifted to where the delicate straps curved over shoulders and sat tied neatly in a bow at the nape of her neck before he had taken a step back, hand held out.

He had taken her to the large botanical garden she had been delighted to learn that his institute sponsored - they had walked happily through the glass enclosed spaces, hands laced together as they ignored the occasional odd glance thrown their way before he had led her through a set of doors tucked away from the main flow of foot traffic.

The space was filled with a variety of blooms, each as distinct as they were rare, and in the middle, almost as if he had planned this ahead of time - he must have planned this ahead of time - had sat a picnic blanket and basket in the shade of a large tree. They had eaten, the fruit fresh and tart, the bread warm and much to her delight, the iced tea cool. It was after they had eaten, the trash tucked away, that Emmrich had shown his true appreciation for her dress.

So this really was all Iris's fault.

It had started with a soft kiss to the curve of her throat as he had toyed with the straps, Sable sat comfortably between his legs - now here she was, braid loose, hands threaded tightly into silver hair as he lay - quite happily she thought - between her thighs.

She had made a noise of protest when he had moved her, encouraging her to lay back, her gaze flicking towards the doors that she could just make out on the far side of the space - Emmrich had reassured her that they would not be disturbed, a hand slipping beneath her dress as he lowered himself onto his stomach.

He had made himself comfortable, jacket shrugged off and folded to act as a makeshift pillow for her, as he had inched the dress up - his mouth followed the dusting of freckles that covered her thighs, hands mapping the warm flesh as he moved higher. It was when he had reached the simple green panties that she had chosen to wear, breath warm even through the already damp cotton, that her hands had slid into his hair - he had nosed at the fabric, eyes closing for a moment as he shifted the dress until it sat over her hips, baring her to him completely.

The first drag of his tongue had been over her panties, drawing a groan from her - he had glanced up, brow raised, when he felt the fingers in his hair tighten, only to be met with a huff and flushed cheeks. With a smirk he had tugged the cotton down, humming when she lifted her hips unprompted - he had brought them up to his face, nose pressed into the damp cotton for a moment, before she tugged at his hair impatiently.

The panties found their way into his pocket, her sigh drawing a laugh from him - with nothing blocking him now Emmrich let his focus shift back, hands wrapping around her thighs as he settled himself comfortably between them.

Sable tucked away the thought of reclaiming her underwear, knowing full well that she would likely never see that pair again - instead she let herself relax, head sinking back into the folds of his jacket.

Emmrich took his time, more than content to spend the rest of his afternoon where he was, encouraged by the airy sighs that followed each pass of his tongue. In that moment she was perfection, skin warmed by the sunlight that seeped through the glass walls of the garden and rich with the perfume he recognised as one he had bought for her. He knew it was primitive of him, ridiculous really, but he had found himself clouded by the first sight of her descending the staircase in what he had now decided was his favourite dress - the green cotton had done little to hide her freckled skin from him, and it had been all he could do to not take her by the hand and lead her straight back upstairs.

The straps that lay tied at the nape of her neck had continued to steal his focus as he had led her through the gardens, her braid draped over one shoulder - his fingers had itched to tug at them and watch as they fell away, so he had taken a deep breath and steered her towards the private area he had arranged for their lunch. Now he could take his time, content with having her laid out before him, dress gathered around her hips as he paid homage between her thighs.

"Emmrich-"

The hands in his hair tightened, nails pressing into his scalp, when he felt her legs shudder against his shoulders - another slow drag of his tongue until he could seal his lips around her clit and she was arching up away from the blanket. There was something to be said for being with her like this, beneath the heat of the afternoon sun, the scent of both native and foreign blooms hanging in the air - it was as if it made her very essence richer, headier, enough to leave his head spinning and fingers sinking into the soft give of her thighs.

"Emmrich, I'm- I'm going to-"

The words fell from her lips, needy and desperate as he continued to drink from her - it took little more than the quick graze of his teeth as she shattered around him, legs locking him in place. He knew what he must look like when she finally sagged back, limbs loose though her hands tugged on his hair again, lifting him up from where he had continued to lap at her slowly - he could feel the slick on his mouth, his chin and likely his cheeks as she met his gaze, blue eyes hooded as she urged him up towards her.

"That was- Maker, Emmrich-"

Her hands fell from his hair, settling against his jaw as he crowded down over her, hips sinking into the cradle of her thighs - he kissed her then, bracing himself on his elbows, letting her taste the sharp flavour of herself on his tongue.

"You are- that was-" Sable found herself breathless, the words spoken into the space between their mouths when he pulled back - she ran a thumb over his bottom lip, wiping away the remnants of herself before she laughed. "What prompted that?"

"When did you buy this dress?"

Her eyes widened. She laughed again. "You do like it then?"

Emmrich let his weight sink down atop her, one hand falling beside him so that he could hike her thigh up over his hip. "I thoroughly approve."

Iris had never been more glad to hear the sound of her hotel room door closing behind her, shoes flung off before she moved deeper into the room. All she wanted to do in that moment was find her phone charger and order the greasiest, cheapest takeout she could and it was that thought that carried her towards the bed - she fell back with a sigh, arms falling out to her sides when her phone pinged.

"Mother-fucker," She reached for her pocket, fumbling until her phone slid free - she had warned the others that she wanted to be left alone for the night, done with their company for the day, and swore that she would find the deepest hole to bury whoever it was that was bothering her peace in.

"He liked the dress."

"Hah," Iris laughed at the single line of text, fingers already tapping away at the screen.

"Rip it off you, did he? Need another one already?"

She waited, watching as the dots appeared in the chat box.

"You're the worst."

"You're welcome."