Monday, December 16, 2013

A France Lemon -- Champagne

Character: France

Fandom: Hetalia

OC: Noel, blonde hair blue eyes

Inspiration: Champagne on Christmas Eve~  To request a Christmas lemon, go here :3

Spending Christmas with France had its ups and downs.  It was a joyous affair and it made you feel alive and loved.  But then it was also a bit hazardous in the sense that Christmas, to France, was a time to completely relax and enjoy oneself to the best of one's abilities.  And, to Francis, relaxing and enjoying oneself meant sex.  Endless sex. 
It was tiring but delicious, an intricate balance of high and low.  And though being with Francis was something that Noel never stopped longing for, she liked quieter forms of intimacy.  Something that Francis happened to be an expert at as well, even though he much preferred bold, heady dominance and the raw sensations of release.
"Please, Francis, not tonight - "
Gentle lips cut her off, and she fell into the deep kiss with a sort of reluctant bliss, unable to stop herself from clutching at his shirt.  He chuckled because he loved it when she acted all adverse to his lovemaking and then still managed to surrender to him.  His large hands drew her closer, slipping around her thin waist and then ducking lower to splay out over her bottom.  Her gentle curves were already setting him afire and he knew instinctively that he'd have her many times tonight, and that she'd completely lose that reluctance by the time he was through with her.
"But it's Christmas Eve, mon amour," he murmured against her mouth, slowly drawing away.  He sent her a suave smile and kissed her forehead sweetly.  Everything was planned, every kiss and touch, every parting.  And as his hands slid away from her, France knew that Noel shivered in more than just the cold.  She wanted him, though perhaps she didn't yet know the full extent of her own desire.
He casually walked to the other side of the counter and reached for the champagne he'd purchased earlier that day.  With a wink at his lover, he poured her a generous amount and slid the long stemmed flute her way.  Her fingers slid around the delicate glass and France felt desire pooling between his legs as he looked at her.  When he made his way back around the counter, Noel was leaning towards him without even realizing it.
Their glasses softly chimed together.  Francis made a toast in a low voice, a voice with the edge of a growl submerged within it.  He drew closer to her and idly touched her waist, sinking his fingers beneath her shirt to draw small circles against her skin.  He watched her eyes flutter. 
The champagne tasted rich.  Noel drank a little bit of the golden liquid before setting the flute back onto the counter and smiling.  France followed suit, glad to have both hands free as he pulled her into him.  Still, she was reluctant, but it would be easy to break, shatter, bind.  Francis leaned down to kiss her but as his lips became more and more passionate, Noel made a noise and pulled away.
"Let's just spend the night on the couch - "
"Let's make love," Francis cut her off.  He pulled her back in, kissing her deeper, more sincerely.  Noel felt her resolve weakening, turning to excitement, to lust.  But still she fought, though now for another reason entirely.  Fighting back his advances made things much more interesting.
"Mmm," she moaned, splaying her hands over his back.  She broke the kiss and he smiled lazily down at her, not at all concerned that she kept pulling back.  It was a game, after all.  A game that he happened to be very proficient in.  She returned his smile with a hint of peppered mischief.  "We can turn the music on and drink more champagne.  It'll be relaxing."
He raised an eyebrow and whispered, "It will be romantic, mon amour."  He sighed and his hands slid back down to her bottom.  When he pulled her back against his body, her eyes flew open in surprise and he grinned almost wolfishly at her reaction to the bulge in his pants.  His mouth hovered over hers, barely brushing a kiss to her lips.  "I want to make love to you.  I want you tonight."  And when he crossed the distance between their lips, she nearly shattered completely.  Her willpower fluttered away like the snow that was gently falling just outside.
"Ahh~" she moaned, head falling back.  Francis drew his lips to her neck and kissed her.  His movements, though always gentle, began to seep through with that sliver of dominance.  He pushed her back into the counter and rolled his hips against hers, reveling in the friction of the movements and the way it made his cock tremble.  His hands slid up her shirt and before she could stop him, Francis was tugging it over her head.  His mouth immediately began to descend, his lithe fingers already pulling at her bra.
"Fr-Francis - " her voice merged into a moan as his mouth covered one pert nipple.  How he had managed to get her bra off so quickly she would never know, but by now Noel was helpless in the face of his powerful desire.  She arched her back and he chuckled against her breast, making vibrations hurdle over her sensitive flesh.  His fingers rolled her other nipple and then he roughly massaged her breast.  The breathless moans that were spilling from his lover spurred him on.
"Do you want me to keep going?" he asked, his eyes piercing up into hers.  There was a darkness within them, the delicious kind that was both threatening and wholesome, almost gentle, almost sweet.  It made her splutter, unsure, but then she remembered that she was supposed to be denying him.  And, because she knew that it would probably excite him even more, Noel whispered, "N-No."
He paused, perhaps surprised, perhaps amused.  It was impossible to tell in that moment, and Francis was a master at these situations.  He chuckled and drew away just a little, his hands sliding down to grasp her waist.  "No?" he asked, tilting his head in curiosity.  But Noel was right, and she could see that the denial was making him excited, interested, aroused.  Of course, she should have guessed what his reaction to it would be, but her preparation amounted to nothing. 
Her pants and underwear were suddenly being tugged away.  They were resting against her mid-thighs before Noel even knew they were gone, and then Francis' fingers were jerking against her wet core, and his amusement won out.  He chuckled yet again and leered down at her, lips hovering over hers.  "No?" he asked again, and his eyes flashed dangerously.  "But ma cheri, you are so wet."  He watched her squirm, trying to flatten her reaction.  But when his long finger began to ease into her wet hole, Noel couldn't stop the breathless moan from spilling into the air.  He smirked, "You can say no all you want, but your body doesn't lie.  Admit that you want me, Noel.  Admit it and I'll give you what you want."
His finger curled from within her heat and she arched her back, eyes flying open in surprise and coated lust.  She cried out and clutched at his shirt, suddenly aware that he was fully clothed and that she was nearly naked.  She pouted at him and his eyes turned gentler even as his body seared against her.  He would make good on his promise, she knew, but only if she gave into him first.  And she would, of that she had no doubt, but she would do in on her own time.
"No," she told him, and she was proud that her voice didn't shake even once.  His eyes flashed with that delicious heat.  He liked that, liked hearing her say no to him even as he craved the opposite.  He would make her give in, he would make her say yes.  The challenge made him smirk.  Another finger joined the first and his tempo increased. 
She was a trembling mass of nerves and desire.  He was going far too slowly now.  Noel wanted him rough, and she wanted much more than just his fingers.  She cried out again and tried to make him go faster.  Her hips surged forward, but he pinned her back down with his hand and hips.  Her quiet despair made his eyes flash provocatively.  But still, she did not submit.
Francis smirked.  His thumb jerked up to spin over the bundle of nerves that he knew would make her go berserk.  He was not disappointed.  Her back came right off the edge of the counter and she hissed, her eyes wide and sightless, her hips struggling to thrust forward. 
His lips descended upon her neck and he pulled the tender skin between his teeth, going slowly, slowly up to her ear.  The torture was nothing compared to the words he whispered against her skin.  Hot, erotic, delicious.  "Do you want my cock~?"  His fingers slipped away from her just as his hips surged forward, rolling against her.  She threw her head back and let out a long moan as he relentlessly pressed his clothed erection against her sensitive sex.
"Tell me how much you want it," he whispered, kissing the hollow of her ear.  His tongue drifted up to curl over her skin and she moaned again, spreading her legs to feel him better.  He leisurely rested his hands on the edge of the counter and looked down at her, still moving his hips against hers.  He could feel her wet heat seeping into the fabric of his jeans and it was making him delirious, crazed from the desire to feel her more intimately, skin on skin.  "Tell me," he murmured, gently biting her earlobe.  She shivered, fingers clutching his shirt, feeling herself edge toward submission slowly, slowly.
"I-mmm," she gasped, rolling her head back.  His fingers eased back down to touch her, dipping into her core again with at a sudden, rough pace.  Her hips instinctively bucked forward of their own accord and she moaned louder, feeling the stirrings of an orgasm tickle over her.  "I…I want you…want you…ohhh…"  She gasped out and Francis increased the speed of his fingers, delving in and out of her faster now as he watched her casually.  He brought her to the very edge of release and then stopped completely, leaving her hanging between that high and low, the ups and downs.
She frowned as he pulled away from her, upset that he stopped when he did.  It was only when she heard him chuckle that she opened her eyes, and then the sight he made had her swallowing back another harsh wave of heady desire.  He'd wrestled out of most of his clothes.  His jeans hung around his hips, undone and ready to be tugged away.  His cock pressed up against the fabric so wildly that it was all Noel could do to not touch him.  But touching him was exactly what Francis wanted.  He smirked.
"Let's make love," he purred out at her, like it was the first time he was suggesting it that night.  His eyes burned her through, singed her with ashy smoke and dark, curling passion.  When he held out his hand to her, Noel moved toward him it was the only place she wanted to be, and Francis smirked wider in triumph. 
They did end up turning the music on and drinking more champagne, much later.  It was relaxing, romantic, and their Christmas Eve passed slowly by them.  Warm even as the snow raged outside, happy and together.