Finis Chaldea

Twice now, Gilgamesh had been capable of taking bliss into his own hands and having it pass through his lips. Once again, he would not avoid savoring this moment. There was so much more to consume this time. Neither of them had much sobriety to their person, frankly, and there was hardly room to taste anything beyond the wine. Would that stop the King of Heroes breaching that barrier? Absolutely not. Each time they met, Artoria Pendragon became more honest physically, even though her mouth continued spewing falseness and half-truth. That didn't matter too much; her mouth could have far better uses. In fact, he presently found it most useful as lips were puckered against his own. The warmth of lips was not all he felt, though, was it? No, there was something else. Gilgamesh's torso was essentially always laid bare for the world to see, but in this moment, the hand of Artoria was upon it as well. How very... satisfying. Yes, that was how he would consider it. Another instance of throwing himself at this woman had resulted in another step toward tearing down her defensive walls. It was assumable that she could then feel the upturn of Gilgamesh's lips as he basked in elation. She was being far more forward this time, yet also less so. Oh well. Her mind could continue to run backwards all it liked; he was sure her body would continue running the other way to eventually pull the mind and soul along with it.

The King of Heroes was kissing the Queen of Knights and neither was pulling away. One because he did not wish to, and the other because backing down did not seem to be at all in her mindset. Actually, given that he'd walked right up to her in such an audacious way, it wouldn't have been too farfetched for her to pull a weapon on him to stop him from this nonsense. Ah, but her body did not agree. She kissed him back fiercely as a matter of course. She had problems accepting this mentally, but that was simply a matter of never having given any man, any such consideration before. As she said, she was not the type to tell other people what to do, but she never considered the need to understand it herself. But that decision was being robbed from her brain in this meeting of lips. That hand against his chest had its finger tips shift. Were men's chest always so firm? If she was being honest she'd never really looked before and while she'd been one briefly she'd not managed to get much muscle as she couldn't grow further. Damn. This was yet another thing her mind would wander over.

That gentle upturn of his lips, should have made her scoff, but instead, she enjoyed it. Was it because of the shared activity? Was it nice to be noticed when what she thought were more worthy women had been walking around? Her body couldn't take this extra heat, her mouth opened. She could not allow him to be smug when he'd started this way. She could not allow herself to be tamed by some man just because he'd figured her out. The absolute audacity he had to make her exert herself in such a way! Whenever she figured out how to make him open his mouth he would be sorry for her approaching her in such a way. These were the thoughts of petulant adolescence, dragon resistance and desire. As her heart pumped alcohol way too much for her tiny form around her body at an increasing rhythm which flooded her ears with the sound. She couldn't even hear the noise escaping her mouth. In the same time she left herself so open her body responding enough to shift that hand of hers to the back of his neck and pull him closer. No, Artoria did not know the meaning of backing down, such was obvious whenever they fought. She did not know defiance, everyone would obey her. She did what she wanted without cease, she would follow through. Even if she had no idea how to do so.

Artoria's refusal to back down would be her undoing... or rather, the cause for her unravelling. She was seeming quite a bit friskier, so to speak. Gilgamesh's eyes opened just slightly, taking in the sight of Artoria's face while so little room remained between them. Was she really trying her hand at being the aggressor this time? How adorable. Well, if she was waiting to find out how his mouth would be entered, she would have to wait her turn. Foolish enough to leave her own mouth hanging open, Artoria was susceptible to the invasion of her own maw by his tongue. Since she was feeling ravenous enough to take him by the neck and hold him in place, surely she was prepared to face the repercussions of challenging him. He'd wrestle her tongue into submission just because he could, because she made it possible for him to do so.

A sharp inhale marked the sudden increase of ferocity to Gilgamesh's approach. How Artoria behaved when the sanctity of her mouth was fully endangered was a point of interest to the king, so of course he thought to violate her orifice thoroughly this time around. It was a dangerous game, rousing the drunken King of Heroes. So long as Artoria intended to play it, however, she would have little choice but to play with high stakes. The almost hungry attack against her mouth was but a step, to which the follow-up was Gilgamesh banishing his own grail to take hold of the woman's face. Though not ridiculously firm, he went after a solid grip starting at her jawline, his hand wrapping itself around her lower jaw from beneath.

Unraveling?! Yes, that seemed to be the most appropriate explanation for what happened with someone like Artoria in a moment like this. A miscalculation had occurred, she'd left herself open in the most literal of senses. Her mouth was invaded as a direct result. Why? Why did this happen in such a way? She was almost certain she understood this scenario. She'd used it a few times herself to kill people, but... never had it been something to affect her. Was this the problem? Was it a weapon, sharpened as a skill, used against her? She was unarmed in this case, because her own use of such a skill would be disingenuous... right? Her tongue met another as the King of Heroes tried to wrestle it into submission but it would be a battle. Even unarmed with no wits the Queen of Knights could not fall in battle. No, she'd resist, striking back against her invader with instinct alone, as once completely tentative motions became more relaxed but still fierce.

Oh but this wasn't going to be like last time. The King of Heroes went after her more fiercely this time around. Her eyes opened at the audacity but then so did her mouth a bit more. She couldn't surrender but her body didn't agree. She gave the man more access as he probed he mouth with his tongue. And what was more even as her own lashed out against it, those little moans were his reward. But what was Artoria to received from this action, the gentle throbbing of her own loins and her knees seeming to weaken just a tad. His hand has shifted on her face, why did he hold her like this? And why were her face and body so hot that she was losing track of it. Her grip on his man hadn't changed initially but as one hand had pulled him closer, the other now empty of her grail as she wished a place to put it within this room seemed to find itself once more against his chest on the other side. Did she like this amount of muscle? Was she jealous? Under her fingers she found a firmness that sparked only mental curiosity though her body itself seemed to respond with tingles. Drunkenness was supposed to dull her senses, so why instead did she feel like she felt the sensation of him holding her more. Nothing made sense!

Much to the King of Heroes' satisfaction, this paradisiacal queen of his resolved herself to fight against his invasive tongue as it slathered away at her wine-stained orifice. Good; he wouldn't have it any other way. There was such a beautiful medley of purposes being fulfilled, all entertaining in their various ways. On one hand, he could see this returned aggression as a conscious effort to seek supremacy. On the other hand, he could see it as a subconscious response to the blooming flower of arousal. Just between, and reaching both ends of the spectrum in unison, was the truth.

This poor woman had never known the touch of a man while there was meaning behind the act. To King Gilgamesh, this was the most obvious truth bleeding through her every move when they interacted. She surely had a deposit of knowledge, yet none of the wisdom with which to utilize it. This, too, was strangely satisfying. Those movements of her tongue against his were the strangest blend of reckless and practiced, providing a form of feedback even he and his many conquests had never witnessed. Saliva and wine residue were being swapped to and fro like volleys in a war of cavalries. Artoria's hands were quite busy as well, signifying her further refusal to heel. So, she'd thrown caution to the wind, had she? That was the way Gilgamesh saw things as he made yet another advancement of his own accord, dropping the hand from the back of her head and hooking that arm around her waist. He would snatch at the woman, holding her firm to his fore as if to shun any thoughts of escape she may have in the near future. All the while, the space between their lips continued to be consumed by a protruding tongue whose onslaught offered no room for weakness.

So many things swam through the mind of Artoria Pendragon as her mind and body seemed to separate. Her mouth was moving, ah, but there was something in it. Someone else's tongue. She was moving against it, struggling to maintain herself. She was fighting and fight she would. Each movement against her was something to rebel against. She would not be tamed. "Oha~" that little noise that slipped out was an act of rebellion not a cause for surrender. Why was this man's chest so firm?

Wrong question. The King of Heroes grip on her body changed. He gripped her by the waist, her body couldn't move away? Good, she would not be backing down right now. Actually, he was so warm and firm all over. Not just his chest, but his entire torso was filled with muscle, even her own body felt soft against it. She moaned more and melted, how dare her body enjoy this contrast? That was actually pretty terrifying as a thought, since when did she care about winning a battle like this? When did she begin to wonder about the feeling of his flesh against her own? Her body was half-instinct but all fight. This was a battle she would not fall this day. But that build had her legs shift just slightly. Why did she do that? There was an almost electric feeling in her loins. Why did it feel like this? She could only wonder, but having her avenues of exit sealed off she could only move forward. As she kissed she found her tongue so busy that she could not move past this point in her own mouth. Were his defenses really so firm? Whatever, she'd find her footing eventually, right? Whatever the case, her body was still behaving as it wished, that hand at the back of his neck was no longer necessary so her fingertips danced across his shoulders. Much like she inspected weaponry the feeling of muscles beneath the skin became something to be just as entranced by as the heat of his body.

Infinitely interesting was Artoria's refusal to quit. That, too, was a thing to exploit. Any chance of escape had been taken from her for the near future, and what was she to do? She loosed his neck, shifting that hand onto his shoulder instead. With the other still exploring his musculature, it seemed the Queen of Knights had an interest in Gilgamesh's build. She'd only become more familiar with it over time, until none knew it better than her; he would see to that himself. Rebellious as the sound passing her lips may have been in the woman's mind, it only reached the king's ear as an adorable little sign of submission. Even an act of aggression, when contributing to an advancement to Gilgamesh's original plan, could only be his victory. Had the mind finally collapsed? There was a possibility.

Ah, but there was much more still to come. She hadn't seen the last of even his simplest efforts, but with her own advances becoming more common, he broke from her lips at last. This did not equal any form of separation, though. No, his tongue remained extended as he tilted her head, possessively tracing a line up her cheek with that moist, heated muscle. The king was grinning and staring into Artoria's eyes all the while, and once his tongue returned to its home, there were finally a few words to offer. "H'oh? Have you finally come to realize what hilt you should truly be grasping? The one knife handle you are free to grasp as you fall asleep every night? I assure you, taking hold of my divine tool will bring you much more comfort than a man-made one~"

Artoria was set in the idea that she would fight this man at every point he presented himself. Of course, this wasn't completely a violence thing, but instead simply the way of her mind. Every interaction was a battle she would aim for victory, supremacy and any other form of domination and tyranny she could manage. Of course, with those things would come her glory whenever she actually managed to do the things she said. Was she interested in his physical form? A bit, at the very least she was curious and every place her finger tips touched made her more so than she was initially.

Ah but he finally pulled away from her mouth and what would he do with the space created? His tongue still protruding a possessive lick came to the side of her face? Why did he just lick her face? She didn't hate it but why do it? How was she supposed to feel about that? All the while the King of Heroes was making eye contact and grinning at the Queen of Knight still held tightly in his embrace. "I... what?" she didn't even really know how to begin asking about that facial lick. And beyond that there was now a huge problem. A tool she should hold while sleeping. His divine tool? She heard these words, processed them, the light in her eyes practically flickering as she figured out his meaning. She was almost unsurprised he meant this statement just as she interpreted it, but more than that... she now had an image in her head. "How? How would I even do that?" she asked. Of course, she asked because she had images in her head, but given how she liked to sleep holding knives, how was she to hold his tool in its place? Were they to spoon, with her as the big spoon? Was she to sleep curled up facing him? Maybe on top of him using him as a pillow? That one could probably work but... "Wait. No. We should not do anything like that. Why would you put an image like that in my head and why did you lick my face? Why does nothing about you make sense to me?!" she wasn't even trying to wrest herself from his grip. Her brain had simply gone too far, and now her face was heated, her loins still tingled, but why did the King of Heroes continue to put such strange images in her head?

Curiosity was expressed once more. This came as no surprise; Artoria never knew the truth of his lesser intentions. Oh well; it only truly mattered that she knew and understood the greatest intention of all, as her doing so was the major key in his acquisition of her. When he spoke on the matter of her holding his tool at night, her first question was in regards to functionality. How would she do that? Oh, he'd have her know numerous ways to accomplish such a thing. She could even fall asleep while it remained inside her, if she liked. Ah... but that was a very separate fantasy and possibility.

Alas, she backtracked as she always would. The Queen of Knights truly thought she could get away with claiming they should do no such thing, when she'd already indirectly admitted to her own consideration. "Why would I not put such things in your head? These images you now have are worth investment. Does it not set fire to your loins just thinking about it?" In the midst of his questioning, Gilgamesh let the hand upon Artoria's face trail downwards. His finger gently slid its way down her cheek, all the way to her chin until it abandoned her flesh completely. She wanted to know why he licked her face? She could know the truth of that as well. "I lash out at your face because it is mine to lick. I would do the same with every last inch of flesh on your form," he declared. That hand wasn't quite done moving either. Gilgamesh may have asked if mental musings affected the queen's loins, but he was not only one to question. No, there was another reaction he thought to test for himself─ the reaction that would come as his descending hand grasped at Artoria Pendragon's womanhood through the ludicrous layers of fabric she wore. Of course, this action took its purpose from the whole of their discussion. "And I will pay special attention here as I'm sure you understand by now."

Artoria had fully tried to abandon the extra thoughts she had, but Gilgamesh was content to put more things in her head. Still he answered her questions more honestly than she'd expected. Why shouldn't he put such ideas in her head? According to him they were worth investment? He even questioned if such thoughts set her loins on fire. Hm, that took consideration, would she lie to the King of Heroes? No, that she could not do in the face of his honesty, even so admitting such a thing felt like treason against her person. "You would not for the sake of my sanity. It puts questions in my mind. Of the variety that I have never once given consideration across two lifespans..." Artoria had gone back to being evasive, just a little. She always would when she didn't directly wish to lie, but when telling the truth was not a viable option. She considered it strategizing.

Ah, but what about the licking of her face? Apparently, that was done as a simple mark of possession and he continued to say he would do so with every inch of her body. How strange that was for him to admit. "You realize that is a ridiculous thing to say?! And that is it even more ridiculous to mean it?!" she asked near outrage even as a finger slowly trailed down her face. She should have been more aware of him by now. Every time he touched her, the body she inhabited went more and more outside of her own control. That in and of itself was problematic to the way her mind worked. Where would that hand go once leaving her face? It'd take grip of her womanhood, sending a spike of feeling straight up her spine which made her mouth open. What would she say in reaction to that sensation which was only just shy of something rather new and frightening? A little moan with a single swear, "Fuck." Yes, that was about the right response. The thought left her head without permission and she was still held in this man's grasp. "I... ah, need you to release me King of Heroes. You are too close and I am not in not used to feeling well... anything." Artoria tried for honesty, because she wasn't at all sure of her reaction but she was very certain that she was about to have a heart attack or feel some kind of explosion.