princehonorable | (no subject)

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snow

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Currently, Charming is occupied in a great and terrible staring bout with a black and white fuzzy creature. His mother had a dog like this when he was little more than a boy, but it's not the same one. The patches are different, for a start, and so is the temperament. The odder thing, of course, is the presence of the dog in his and Snow's bedroom.

And it's staring at him.

"Hello," Charming says warily, tipping his head to one side to see if the dog responds to him. He does little more than give a whine. "Are you supposed to be somewhere? I'd remember if you were mine." Which is almost a joke in and of itself, given that there are still small gaps in his memory, as if fate is holding out one last joke on him. "Snow?" Charming summons. "There's something here you may want to see!"

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She chuckles, smiling against his mouth while attempting a kiss - an easier feat suggested than actually performed.

"Now? In front of - " She pulls back just enough to speak and tilts her head in the direction of the puppy.

"I don't think he's going to mind. He's a dog, dear," Charming says, already in the process of easing her into a laying back position with both hands on her hips to gently coax her. "Besides, if he's going to live here, he ought to get used to such noises."

She tips her head back and laughs, letting the dish towel that had been in her hand slip through her fingers to the floor.

"And twenty-seven years is an awfully long time to have to go without."

"I hardly remember it," he confesses, pulling a sheepish grin as he sits back and eases onto all fours to better kiss up and down the breadth of her body. "I suppose that's what happens when you spend it asleep."

"Sleeping is overrated. Take it from someone who has a little experience in that area too," she answers, stretching out on the bed underneath him as she gazes up with a slow smile.

"I think we can use our bed for something else now."

"Suggestions are welcome," he says with an open gesture, grateful for this one moment that there was no one around to interrupt them. He lingers at the jut of her hip, resting his chin there. "You know, I think the kingdom was always so occupied with our true love that they never even considered us capable of such devious things in the bedroom."

"You think I would have them?" she replies, feigning innocence as she clasps a hand against her heart. In the same breath, she lets that hand trail down to comb through his hair in a slow, affectionate gesture.

"And are you capable of such devious things now?"

"I like to think I still remain honorable," he says, with a painfully earnest look on his face as he says the words. "Shall I prove to you how well I can take care of my wife?"

He's so sincere, so genuine that it almost makes her heart hurt a little, and all she can do is beam at him, giving his hair a fond tousle.

"Your wife wishes to see your proving. Possibly many times over."

Charming beams away and makes his way back up her body, kissing her with every ounce of desperation and passion he had once used to wake her from the sleeping spell, but now he busies himself undoing her buttons and casting off her clothing, paying little mind to their furry voyeur. "It'll be just as it was when we were trying for Emma."

"And even then - we didn't have to try very long for her," Snow points out, speaking between kisses as her own hands fly to the buttons on his shirt, peeling it back over his shoulders.

The shyness she'd initially felt on their wedding night about being intimate is now replaced with a giddy excitement, a readiness to be with her husband after so many years apart.

Charming rolls his shoulders back to help in getting his shirt off, divesting himself of his trousers and hurrying to help Snow with hers. "Nothing's in the oven, is it?" he asks in a hurry. "I plan on keeping you occupied all night if I can."

"You're lucky," Snow answers, shaking her head by way of further clarification as she wriggles her hips to assist him, kicking the clothes off the bed with a nudge of her toes.

"I had just planned on starting dinner when you called me in here, so now you have my undivided attention."

"I'm always lucky. You married me," he points out, honest in that assessment of his life. "How could I have ever dreamed of a princess daring to love me, a poor shepherd boy." He brushes a soft kiss to her lips, pushing the last of his clothing off as he looks down on her. "How shall we do this?"

"If it's any consolation, I did think you were a prince at the time," she teases, grinning brightly. "And you were very much convinced that I was a thief in the woods." How time had changed all that, she thinks, letting her hands drift over his body, finding old battle scars under her fingertips. "How do you want me, Charming?" she murmurs, her smile turning coy.

"I think I'd like you on top," he admits, shivering at the touch of her fingertips and the chilly thought of going as long as he had without that. "You're so beautiful in any way, but I love it when you control the situation."

"Then move over, Your Highness," she murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to his mouth before giving him a nudge to roll him onto his back, smoothly swinging a leg across him and settling into a perch over his hips. She has to spend a moment just looking at him from this angle, bending low to kiss him again.

"I love you," she whispers, taking hold of him and shifting her hips to guide him into her with a soft gasp on her lips.

He takes small pains to adjust them in order to ensure that Snow is as comfortable as can be, sliding his hands up the warmth of her hips to hold tightly. Seeing her, alone, is all he needs and the feel of her around him practically makes him falter to the edge. "Snow," he whispers. "Oh, Snow, I love you too."

She's more than comfortable as she settles astride him, thighs squeezing against his hips as she slowly rocks back and forth over him. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes shining when she gazes down at him, gently touching his cheek before she gives in to the movement, gasping softly.

While Charming certainly hadn't thought of these things when he had first met her, he cannot help but acknowledge that his Snow White is the most perfect in any country or land and it matters not what she's doing. "Snow," he moans, holding onto her hip like a lifeline.

The first time they'd been together here, on the island, it had almost felt like another wedding night at first - before wariness had yielded to passion and all the longing she had harbored deep inside her and been ignorant of for so long.

She bends low to him, wanting to keep him close even as they continue to move together, her lips brushing over his.

"Snow," he murmurs and reaches out for her, sliding his fingers over the bare skin of her back out of a need to touch her and never let go. He closes his eyes tight as he touches and refuses to think of anything but the woman in his arms. "Snow," he gasps, sense giving way to pleasure.

It's been so long, but she could never truly forget the way this feels, the way he surrounds her even when she's the one moving above him, suffusing her senses and coming close to overwhelming her completely. His name falls from her lips, over and again, and she braces her hands on his chest, the momentum building as her pleasure grows.

He would love this even if they weren't trying for a child, but the addition of knowing this is an action born of love makes him shiver ever the more, fall into a sort of haze as his vision goes cloudy, but Snow goes ethereal. "Look at you," he praises. "You're so wonderful."

A new spiral of pleasure unfurls from deep inside her and she gasps, her back arching as her body tenses in anticipation of what's to come. She glances down at him, lost in the moment, her gaze equally hungry and full of love. "I love you," she whispers, before another sensation overwhelms her and she moans, leaning down to catch his lips with hers.