Merlin | Seven Deadly Sins

The moon, a sliver of cool pearl against the velvet expanse of the night sky, cast long, dancing shadows across Merlin's private study. Dust motes, illuminated by the soft glow of arcane artifacts, swirled lazily in the air, mirroring the gentle stirring of her own thoughts. She sat at her polished oak desk, the faint scent of exotic herbs and aged parchment clinging to the air, a familiar comfort. Her crimson eyes, usually sharp and focused on the intricate workings of magic, held a contemplative, almost wistful, gaze as she idly traced the rim of an empty teacup. The silence of her sanctum was a rare, precious commodity, usually filled with the clamor of her experiments or the boisterous camaraderie of the Seven Deadly Sins. But tonight, a different kind of anticipation hummed beneath her skin, a subtle tremor of desire that had been building for weeks, ever since a certain knight, her knight, had confessed his deepest feelings under the boughs of the Whispering Woods.

She remembered the intensity of his gaze, the raw vulnerability in his voice as he spoke of her, not as the Sin of Gluttony, nor as the greatest mage in Britannia, but as Merlin, the woman he cherished. It had sent a shockwave through her usually impassive heart, a sensation both foreign and utterly intoxicating. Arthur. The very thought of his name brought a faint flush to her cheeks, a warmth spreading through her veins. He had always been steadfast, loyal, and undeniably brave, but recently, a new depth had emerged in his interactions with her. Lingering touches, stolen glances, conversations that drifted from matters of state to the quiet musings of the heart. Each interaction had woven a silken thread of unspoken longing, tightening its knot around her senses.

A soft knock echoed through the study, a deliberate, gentle rhythm that she immediately recognized. Her breath hitched. Arthur. He rarely intruded upon her solitude unannounced, but in these recent days, their boundaries had blurred, softened by mutual affection. "Enter," she called, her voice a low, melodic hum, betraying none of the sudden flutter in her chest. The door creaked open, revealing the silhouette of the young king, his broad shoulders filling the doorway, his presence radiating a quiet strength that always seemed to anchor her. He carried a small, exquisitely wrapped package, its ribbon a deep sapphire, matching the color of his loyal eyes.

"Merlin," he began, his voice a rich baritone, laced with a familiar warmth that always made her pulse quicken. "I hope I am not disturbing you." He stepped fully into the room, his gaze sweeping over her, lingering a moment too long on the delicate curve of her neck, the faint shimmer of her auburn hair that cascaded over her shoulders. He held out the package. "This… this is for you. A token of my appreciation. And… more."

Merlin rose, her movements fluid and graceful. She accepted the gift, her fingertips brushing against his, a fleeting contact that sent a jolt of electricity through her. The package was surprisingly light, yet it felt heavy with unspoken sentiment. "Arthur," she murmured, her gaze meeting his. His eyes were alight with an emotion she recognized, an intensity that mirrored her own burgeoning feelings. "You always know how to surprise me."

She carefully untied the sapphire ribbon, her slender fingers working with practiced ease. The wrapping paper, a deep forest green, crinkled softly as she peeled it back to reveal a velvet box, the color of midnight. Her heart pounded a little faster. She opened the lid. Inside, nestled on a bed of satin, was a set of exquisite lingerie. It was crafted from the finest black lace, intricately patterned with delicate floral motifs, so sheer it seemed spun from moonlight itself. A matching bralette, its cups designed to barely cover, and delicate thong panties, no more than a whisper of fabric, lay before her. Accompanying them was a gossamer-thin robe, its sleeves flowing like a waterfall, edged with the same opulent lace. It was the most beautiful, and the most daring, piece of intimate apparel she had ever seen, a testament to Arthur's thoughtful, and surprisingly bold, romantic sensibilities.

Merlin’s breath hitched, a soft gasp escaping her lips. Her crimson eyes widened, not in shock, but in a profound, almost overwhelming, appreciation. This was not a casual gift; this was an invitation, a declaration of desire, a testament to his understanding of her hidden sensuality. She looked up at Arthur, her usual composure momentarily fractured by a wave of raw emotion. He stood before her, his expression a mixture of hopeful anticipation and a vulnerability that tugged at her soul. "Arthur… this is… breathtaking," she whispered, her voice thick with a newfound sensuality. "You have impeccable taste."

A slow smile spread across Arthur’s face, a genuine, unrestrained joy that illuminated his features. "I confess, Merlin, I consulted with some… discerning individuals," he admitted with a playful glint in his eyes, a subtle nod to his lady-in-waiting, Elizabeth Liones, who had, no doubt, offered her expert advice. "But the choice of fabric, the delicate stitching… that was all inspired by the thought of you. Of seeing you in it." His gaze drifted down, his eyes tracing the elegant lines of her simple, yet refined, scholarly robes, then back to her face, a hopeful question burning in their depths. The air in the study grew heavy, charged with an unspoken yearning.

Merlin’s mind raced, a delightful tempest of anticipation and burgeoning desire. She was a woman of immense power, a mage who could reshape reality with a mere thought, yet in Arthur's presence, especially now, she felt a delicious vulnerability, a yearning to surrender. She met his gaze, her own eyes softening with a warmth that rivaled the hearth. "And what would you like to see, my king?" she asked, her voice a silken caress, the question itself a daring invitation. The usual formality between them had melted away, replaced by a shared understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the passion that had been simmering for so long.

Arthur’s breath hitched. He took a step closer, his movements deliberate, his gaze never leaving hers. He reached out, his fingers gently tracing the edge of her collar. "Everything, Merlin," he confessed, his voice a low murmur that vibrated through her. "I want to see you, truly see you, as the woman you are, the woman I have come to… adore." He paused, his thumb brushing against her skin, sending shivers down her spine. "And I wish to show you how much I cherish you, in every way."

Merlin’s heart leaped. This was the moment. The culmination of weeks of unspoken desire, of stolen glances and lingering touches. She gave him a slow, alluring smile, a smile that promised both passion and surrender. "Then, Arthur," she said, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, "let us begin." She turned, her movements unhurried, and walked towards the secluded alcove of her study, where a comfortable chaise lounge was bathed in the soft moonlight. She sat down, her gaze still locked with his, her hand reaching for the buttons of her robe, her intentions clear.

Arthur’s eyes widened slightly, his breath catching in his throat. He watched, mesmerized, as Merlin’s fingers worked at the fastenings of her scholarly attire. The robes parted, revealing the simple, practical undergarments she typically wore. But his gaze was fixed on what lay beneath, a tantalizing hint of the treasure he knew awaited him. He approached her slowly, drawn by an irresistible force, his own desires mirroring the burgeoning heat he sensed radiating from her. As she shed her outer layer, the fabric whispering to the floor, he reached out, his hands finding the delicate straps of her chemise. His touch was gentle, reverent, as he guided her arms free, allowing the simple garment to slide down her body. He saw the faint blush that bloomed on her skin, the slight tremor in her hands, and felt a surge of profound tenderness and fierce desire.

He knelt before her, his gaze devouring the sight of her in the soft moonlight. Her skin, usually so pale, seemed to glow with an inner luminescence. He reached out, his fingers tracing the curve of her shoulder, then slowly, deliberately, moved down her arm, each touch igniting a fresh spark of heat. Merlin closed her eyes, savoring the exquisite sensation, the pure, unadulterated pleasure of his touch. Her breathing grew shallow, her chest rising and falling with a growing urgency. She felt his lips press a soft kiss to her collarbone, a tender exploration that sent a wave of delicious shivers through her. It was more potent than any spell, this raw, human connection, this mutual surrender.

"Merlin," Arthur murmured, his voice rough with emotion, "you are… magnificent." He lifted his head, his gaze meeting hers, and she saw in his eyes a depth of adoration that made her heart swell. He leaned in, his lips finding hers, and the kiss was unlike any they had shared before. It was slow, deep, and filled with a passionate longing that had been suppressed for far too long. Her hands rose to cup his face, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the embrace. The scent of him, a blend of knightly leather and a subtle, intoxicating musk, filled her senses, intoxicating her completely.

He broke the kiss, his forehead resting against hers, their breaths mingling. "You are so beautiful," he whispered, his voice laced with awe. He slowly, deliberately, reached for the delicate lace bralette. His fingers brushed against her skin as he unhooked it, the tiny clasps giving way with a soft click. The garment fell away, revealing her full breasts to his adoring gaze. Merlin felt a thrill of exposed vulnerability, yet it was met with nothing but tenderness and admiration. Arthur’s eyes widened, a silent testament to her beauty, and he leaned in, his lips finding the peak of her left breast. Her breath hitched, a soft moan escaping her lips as his tongue, warm and wet, teased and then gently suckled. The sensation was exquisite, sending waves of pleasure through her entire body. She arched her back, her fingers tightening their grip on his hair, a soft whimper escaping her lips.

His ministrations continued, moving to her other breast, his tongue tracing delicate patterns, his lips leaving trails of fire on her skin. Merlin felt herself unraveling, her carefully constructed composure melting away under his passionate attentions. Her hands drifted down his back, her fingers exploring the taut muscles beneath his tunic, the rough texture of his attire a stark contrast to the silken smoothness of her skin. She tugged gently, urging him closer, her body craving his touch, his warmth. He responded with a soft growl, his lips trailing lower, kissing the swell of her stomach, then lower still, his tongue dipping into the delicate indentation of her navel. Each touch was a revelation, each kiss a promise of deeper pleasures.

"Arthur," she whispered, her voice trembling, "please..." The unspoken plea hung in the air, a clear invitation for him to take her, to claim her, to explore every inch of her. He looked up at her, his eyes blazing with a desire that mirrored her own. He stood, his hands finding the fastenings of his tunic, and with a few quick movements, shed the outer layer of his armor and attire. Merlin watched, her heart pounding in her chest, as his magnificent, muscular physique was revealed in the soft moonlight. He was a vision of strength and beauty, a warrior who now stood before her, vulnerable and yearning.

He returned to her side, his touch now bolder, yet still incredibly tender. His hands moved to the delicate thong, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs as he gently eased the fabric away. Merlin gasped as she felt the cool air on her most intimate parts, then the immediate, exquisite warmth of his hands as they cupped her. His touch was both firm and knowing, exploring the delicate contours of her body with a reverence that made her tremble. She opened her legs slightly, an unconscious invitation, and he leaned in, his lips finding the delicate bud of her desire. Merlin cried out, a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure, her body arching instinctively towards his touch. His tongue was a masterful instrument, exploring, teasing, bringing her to the precipice of sensation with each deliberate movement.

She felt herself dissolving, her senses overwhelmed by the exquisite pleasure. Her fingers, no longer able to contain their need, reached out, tangling in his hair, guiding him, urging him on. "Arthur… oh, Arthur…" she moaned, her voice choked with ecstasy. She felt a building pressure, an intense, exquisite ache that demanded release. Her entire being vibrated with the anticipation, her body thrumming with a primal rhythm. Just as she felt she could bear it no longer, Arthur shifted, his lips leaving her throbbing core, replaced by the intoxicating weight of his body as he lowered himself onto her. He positioned himself between her legs, his hardened shaft pressing against her swollen clitoris, sending a fresh wave of urgent need through her.

"Merlin," he rasped, his voice thick with desire, his eyes locked on hers. "Are you ready?" She met his gaze, her own eyes shining with a raw, uninhibited passion. "Yes," she breathed, the single word a promise, a surrender. He entered her slowly, deliberately, filling her completely. A soft cry escaped her lips, a sound of both pleasure and a profound sense of belonging. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him to set the rhythm. His thrusts were powerful, yet controlled, each movement a testament to his deep affection and his burning desire. The sounds of their bodies meeting, the soft moans, the gasps of pleasure, filled the study, mingling with the gentle murmur of the night outside.

Merlin felt herself losing all sense of control, surrendering completely to the intoxicating dance of passion. Her mind, usually so sharp and analytical, was blissfully blank, filled only with the sensations of Arthur’s body against hers, the exquisite pleasure he was bringing her. She met his thrusts with her own, her hips arching, her body responding to his every move with a primal urgency. "Arthur… more," she whispered, her voice hoarse, her body crying out for the release that was now so close. He responded with a guttural groan, his thrusts becoming faster, deeper, driving them both towards the precipice.

The climax washed over her in waves, a torrent of pure, unadulterated pleasure that left her breathless and trembling. She cried out his name, her body convulsing with the intensity of the release, her senses swimming in a sea of exquisite sensation. Arthur followed soon after, his body tensing as he let out a deep, resonant groan, his thrusts becoming more frantic as he surrendered to the overwhelming tide of his own pleasure. He collapsed onto her, his body slick with sweat, his breath coming in ragged gasps. They lay entwined, their hearts pounding in unison, their bodies still humming with the echoes of their passionate encounter.

After a few moments, Arthur lifted his head, his gaze soft and full of adoration as he looked at Merlin. He brushed a stray strand of hair from her damp forehead, his touch gentle, loving. "Merlin," he whispered, his voice still rough with lingering passion, "that was… incredible." He kissed her softly, a tender, lingering kiss that spoke volumes. Merlin returned the kiss, her own heart overflowing with a love and tenderness she had rarely experienced. The lingerie, now slightly disheveled, lay scattered around them, a silent testament to the intimacy they had shared. It had served its purpose, not just as a catalyst for desire, but as a symbol of their deepening connection, a shared journey into a realm of sensuality and profound affection. The moonlight cast a soft glow over them, illuminating their entwined forms, a picture of perfect contentment and passionate love. In the quiet of her study, surrounded by her arcane secrets, Merlin had found a different kind of magic, a magic woven from the threads of human connection, desire, and an enduring love that promised to burn brighter than any spell.