Her Altar
by Meimi
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Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with Namco or anyone who hold rights to Tales of the Abyss. It isn't mine, I'm just playing with it.
Spoiler Warning: Pregame spoilers.
Notes: This was written for the Kinkfest at talesofbadtouch over on LiveJournal.
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Tear couldn't help a breathy sigh as she rocked back on her knees. Whenever she moved even the tiniest bit that beautiful, little strap would rub up against her in a most divine way. It was almost enough to make her lose focus. Almost. He kept her grounded. Every little groan and moan and touch of sweat slick skin kept her firmly planted in the here and now. If she surrendered to her own passion then she would miss all of his, and that was just unacceptable.
"Van," she murmured huskily as she rocked forward again, driving her second most prized possession back into his body and reveling in the heady moan it elicited out of him. It was such a wonderful little thing she had chanced across, some ancient material, firm and yet spongy at the same time. At first she hadn't really thought much about it, but that was before she had acquainted herself with her brother's own personal rod. A most attentive piece of his anatomy which even now dangled proudly from between his legs. The material wasn't quite the same in texture, but close enough to make a copy out of, close enough to make him groan deliriously whenever she slid it into him.
She'd always dreamed about showing him just how much she loved him, just how much she appreciated all that he had done for her. From the beginning, he'd been ever so eager to tend to her pleasure, sometimes even to the detriment of his own. She didn't like that. She wanted him to enjoy himself just as much as she did. Maybe even more, to be perfectly honest.
Well, if she was going to be honest then she might as well admit to everything. She wanted him on his knees -just like he was now-, she wanted him writhing at her touch -just like he was doing now-, she wanted him moaning in pure pleasure -yes, just like now-, and most of all she wanted to hear her name, spoken just so, as if she were a goddess whose altar he had come to worship at -almost there now-.
"Tear." A broken whisper, almost nonexistent, almost beyond her ability to hear it. It wasn't quite what she wanted to hear, but that was all right. She knew just what to do to get the proper response out of him.
Smiling devilishly, Tear leaned down, her breasts squashing up somewhat uncomfortably against his back -a minor irritation for her, and one that could be forgotten in the face of him-. She licked teasingly along his backbone and then slowly slid her hand up over his hip, moving down below, her destination more than obvious. His breath hitched as she wrapped her fingers around his length. Yes, just like that. She thought as she began to stroke him in time with her thrusts. The position was awkward, but she was nothing if not determined. She would have what she wanted.
"Vandesdelca," she called out commandingly before biting at the glistening skin stretched taut across his back. She didn't break it, but she left her mark. It was in the perfect place too, one where only she would have the chance to see it. This was almost paradise. Almost.
He moaned low in his throat, a sound that sent shivers down her own spine. He was close, far too close to remember his pride, else he would not be pressing back against her so wantonly. He would not be grinding his ass against her every time she pushed into him. It was enough to make her bite her own lip to keep from crying out as the strap rubbed ceaselessly against her. But it wasn't complete, not yet. He hadn't said it yet.
"Vandesdelca Musto Fende," she mock warned as she reached forward, grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked his head back. He would give her satisfaction before she would allow him to reach his own! She would not capitulate on this.
He chuckled, causing her to yank on his hair again, harder this time. "Very well, sister," he said, his voice strained but still showing a hint of amusement as he surrendered to her desire. "Dear precious Mystearica."
Tear smiled brilliantly as he uttered her name, then released his hair and gave him a gentle pat on the head. "I love you, Vandesdelca," she singsonged as she lay her full weight across him, pushing him down to his elbows for a much more interesting angle.
"And I you, Mystearica," Van grunted as his baby sister roughly pounded into him with her most cherished toy. Or perhaps he should say "their" most cherished toy. He was definitely learning to truly appreciate its clandestine creation. "And I you."
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