Title: Taking Him Back
Rating: R, but adult themes
Characters: Merlin, Morgana
Summary: Modern AU. Inspired by the KMM prompt, "Merlin and Morgana are married... after some years of marriage though, Morgana wants to heat things up, so one day after Merlin comes back from work..."
Warnings: D/s overtones
Word Count: 742
Prompt: #130, devilish
The ache in Merlin’s shoulders translated to a fumble with his flat key, eliciting a string of muttered curses as he bent over to snatch it off the floor and try again. All he wanted was to get inside, take a hot shower, and fall into bed. Two years ago, Morgana would’ve given him a massage and listened to him complain about Arthur’s often ridiculous demands, but odds were she wouldn’t even be home yet. She had her own headaches to endure from Uther. When they saw each other these days, it was to brush kisses across the other’s cheek as they passed each other on the way to the kettle in the morning or to curl into a spoon when the late one finally crawled beneath the duvet.
He missed her. He couldn’t even remember the last time they’d fucked. How had they turned into Terry and June without his realizing it?
A soft glow from the lounge surprised him. Setting his laptop bag by the door, he tilted his head to peer around the corner as he approached. He only made it a few feet before a red trident blocked his path.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
Morgana’s silken tone swept over his skin. Gone was the cool efficiency that usually typified her voice. In its place was the heated promise of seduction he remembered from the days they’d dated, husky whispers shared in tight corners when she’d dragged him away from Arthur’s bidding to demand her own. He almost forgot his exhaustion and fell to his knees then and there, but her command refused him the right. He would move when she told him to. No sooner.
“That depends.” He ran the tip of his index finger down the length of the trident, finding the soft curve of her hand just around the edge of the wall. “Where am I allowed to go?”
Though she didn’t move his hand away, she shifted her grip to allow the prongs to rest against his heart. A moment later, the rest of her came into view. The sight of her stole what little breath he had left.
Her black hair tumbled in raucous curls around her bare shoulders, tickling the firm swells of her breasts where the red and black corset she wore pushed them up in proud display. Thick kohl lined her eyes, making them glitter with a fervent hunger, while her swollen mouth slanted in a crimson smirk. To complete the look, she sported a set of horns, curving from atop her head.
On anyone else, the sexy devil costume would’ve looked ridiculous. On Morgana, it was absolutely delicious.
“I made a decision today,” she said.
“Oh? And what’s that?”
“I’m taking my life back.”
If she hadn’t greeted him in such obvious invitation, he might’ve been alarmed. Instead, curiosity sparked him to say, “I didn’t realize you’d lost it.”
“Only the control of it.” Slowly, she dragged the trident down his shirt, popping one button at a time. “I told Father I was cutting back on my hours to something more sane whether he liked it or not. No more hundred hour work weeks. That goes for you, too.”
Cooler air tickled across his chest where she’d opened his shirt. “Arthur might have something to say about that.”
“He did,” she conceded. “Until I suggested that Gwen might appreciate seeing him more than she does her assistant. He seemed quite eager to go along with my idea after that.”
As he would. As much as Arthur might like Lancelot, everybody knew Lance carried a torch for Gwen. The last thing Arthur would want was to give her reason to reciprocate.
“What will we do with all this extra time on our hands?” he said, feigning innocence.
When Morgana looked up at him through her lashes, it was pure possession. She didn’t utter a word as she grasped his tie and coiled it around and around her free hand, tightening the knot until he had no choice but to straighten, his heart thudding against his ribs as he waited for her next move.
In fact, she didn’t speak at all until after she turned on her booted heel—and the only reason he’d missed noticing she’d pulled out his favorite black stiletto boots to wear was because he’d got stopped at her beautiful breasts—and began leading him to the bedroom.
“I’m sure we can think of something.”