Quick and poetic Solavellan smut inspired by the anagram of All New, Faded For Her. Read on AO3 here.

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She shifts in shades beneath his hands. Porcelain, ivory, the icy blue of Emprise, sunkissed and sandy-gold, the ever-changing colour of her skin as they move from moonlight to candlelight.

Do you like that

He traces every inch, memorizes every bruise and scrape. The marks are fleeting, not unlike the moments they spend pressed together. Sparse freckles form constellations, eternal waypoints for his curious tongue to taste.

Run your hands across my body

Salt spreading over his tongue, inviting saliva to flood his eager mouth. He presses his fingers tight, feels the firmness of her flesh beneath his fingers, pebbled nipples beneath his solid palms.

Easy, slow down, let me look at you

His head is often in the sky, his mind flitting over ancient ruins and broken memories. Pressed against her bed, her lips flit across his ear and fill his head with whispers. She brings him back, towers over him, her weight draped across his lap and holding him firmly to the ground.

All I could think about was this

She shifts in shapes beneath his hands. Curves that rival the grandest sonallia; fingers arched into dragon’s claws that scrape across his skin; angled knees and elbows and hips, a masterpiece of geometry to put the oldest dwarven thaigs to shame.

Don’t stop

Threads of her hair slide through his fingers, dark as a starless night. Her neck resists the press of his teeth. Sweat and sweetness and salt fill his lungs on every inhale. Tighten the fist, pull back and breathe her in: the sweetness is most intense just behind her ear.

What are you waiting for

Every dip and crevasse is highlighted by his gaze. He stares at the bow of her lip, the blade of her cheekbone, the notch at her throat, the shallow groove at the base of her sternum, the path it traces to her navel. He follows his gaze with fingers and tongue.

Oh please, yes

Smooth and soft shift to slick and slippery as he spans the rippling landscape of her skin. His lower lip is the perfect brush for this type of canvas; he strokes from the edges of her skin towards her center and uses her honeyed juices as his paint.

Lie back, close your eyes

He tilts his head, a flash of tongue and mouth. Coax her in a certain manner, and she sings a certain note. If he plays her just right, he can hear an entire symphony.

Face me, I want to see your face

Shivering, shuddering, an earthquake against his mouth and hands. She erupts in a shower of sound and sensation and scintillating colour, vivid and vivacious, everything he failed to appreciate until she erupted into his shackled life.

Fuck me please I can’t wait anymore

Hot and gripping, no hesitation, a hand on his shoulder and a hand between his legs. She presses the pillows of her breasts against his cheek, a shameless coaxing of her own. He pulls her close to his greedy mouth, soft skin and softer flesh and a pearlescent nipple against his teeth.

Eager, aren’t you

Soft and breathless laughter sinks into his mind, a compulsion that numbs his eternal worries. Canvas becomes creator as she traces the planes of his body with her hands and mouth, and he tries to remember how to breathe; her lips spread a network of fine delicate fissures across his limbs, into his throat, through the backs of his eyes.

Now, right now, I need you

He pulls her up and ravages her luscious mouth. This mage calls to him, summons him, pulls him from the Fade like nothing else ever could. She welcomes him, a willing host clutching him in eager arms, an intoxicating press of skin to skin.

Harder, harder, oh yes please

She gasps against his cheek. Fine bones of her skull beneath his fingers, soft skin beneath his palms, insistent hips pulled tight, a pleading moan against his cheek. He soaks her in, every whimper and every scratch, every drop of sweat against his tongue and every trace of heat from that sugared spot behind her ear. With every wisp of her that he takes, he leaves a piece behind.

Ar vara prear nasan in’na ga’man tuatha

Electric, fizzling beneath his skin, pressure at the juncture where they meet and flex, a thrumming through his limbs, it feels like magic but so much more: solid, so solid, this is real, did anything ever have any substance before her, he can’t remember now, forgetting everything except the woman twined in his arms.

Right there – that’s it – yes –

Fracturing, shattering, their pieces meld and meet, his jaw clenching so hard he hears the grinding of his teeth. He grips her nape, breathes in her lips, falls into the depths of her shining eyes.

Everything. I want everything. I want every part of you

The shuddering tension of her arms clutching him close. Her nose burrowing against his throat, seeking the same scent that he stole so happily from the crook of her neck. Her lips pour words into his ear, words of adoration he shouldn’t take, but her heated body is a shield deflecting the guilt he knows he should feel. He buries his face in her neck until he can’t see or breathe, can’t taste or feel or smell anything but her. He brushes his words against her skin, a fine layer of love that will crystallize and coalesce over time.

Lathan na, vhenan

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Elvhen phrases, thanks to @fenxshiral:

– Ar vara prear nasan in’na ga’man tuatha = I leave a piece of my soul with you every time we join
– Lathan na = another way to say ‘I love you’