The two of you lay there in bed, breathless in rapture and simply gazing quite warmly at each other. Cotton sheets lay over you both, folds clinging to your every form and curve. Sharing a wide, white pillow both of you just stared at each other in a comfortable silence. His usually so slicked back hair had become ruffled, hanging over his forehead, which he wrinkled too often for your liking, like curtains of corn coloured gold. The lips which generally were twisted in a frown, or held stiffly like he was in the process of sucking a lemon, were now relaxed. The corners of his mouth were even twitched up in that rare smile he only used to flash at you when he thought you weren’t looking.
The coarse skin of his palm shimmied down your bare back, resting on your side momentarily before skimming back up to your shoulders. “Ludwig?” You were almost saddened to break the quiet that had descended over the two of you, but you broke it as easily like you’d merely touched a rainbow soap bubble and burst it. An almost silent chuckle left him, his nose rubbing against yours gently whilst his soft laugh still rumbled through his chest. “Ja, Liebling?” He answered, pulling back so his blue eyes were trained on your own (e/c) ones. Your next statement was an embarrassing one, you knew that much, but still you couldn’t prevent yourself from voicing it.
“Could you… speak in German for a bit?” You hesitated as you spoke, not knowing what kind of reaction he’d show you. A summery blush broke over his cheeks and he snorted, though a brighter smile displayed itself on his face. “What should I say?” He murmured back and honest to god, the slightly flustered yet happy expression on his face was the most adorable you’d ever seen. “Anything, just…. Anything.” You replied, feeling a blush lacquer your own cheeks.
Your German thought for a short moment, before cocking his head and sitting up. The sheets fell off his shoulders, choosing instead to pool around his waist. Because of his arms around your waist, you too had to sit up. “Well let’s see…. What have we got here….?” He muttered under his breath, one of his hands lifting to cradle your jaw. “Zwei schöne Augen.” His lips were lowered down to kiss both your eyelids, his own eyes closed. You noticed that his voice changed subtly when he started speaking in his mother tongue, making his voice lower and somehow even more alluring to you.
“Und eine niedliche Nase,” he whispered with a soft peck of your nose, “und auch ein himmlischer Mund.” A sudden smirk revealed itself, his teeth tugging in a composed manner on your bottom lip. A subdued squeak sounded, a darker shade of crimson settling on your blush. His eyes twinkled in mirth and he captured your chin in his hand, tilting your head to the side to give you a slow kiss. His other arm circled you and pulled you closer to him. Losing yourself in the kiss, you couldn’t do anything to stop him from falling backwards with you on top of him.
Your lips still sealed together, you fidgeted a little – not wanting to lie on him in such a way. You sat up and broke the kiss, your legs on either side of his body. He pouted, but yanked you back so your chest was touching his. His mouth had found yours once more, making you blush deeply at what his hand was doing – trailing up and down your waist and the back of your thighs.
“Was für eine anzügliche Position,” he purred when your lips were parted, his stare causing your face to flame even brighter. “Und hier haben wir einen Hals,” he pressed his lips ceremoniously to your throat, suckling on your jugular until a faint mark was visible. “Ein verlockendes Schlüsselbein und eine fragile Schulter.” Murmuring his words against your skin caused a tickling sort of sensation, urging a suppressed giggle from you. His lips stretched in a smile, you could feel it against the top of your shoulder.
“Ein weicher Arm,” he commented, sketching out a wiggling path down to the crease of your elbow, past it and down to the inside of your wrist. Tentatively he bit on the fold of skin just before your palm. “Eine zarte Hand.” Grasping your hand firmly with both of his own, he kissed it in the centre. “Die sanften Finger.” By now his voice had become a whisper, a mere breath. He traced down to your ring finger and back up to the knuckle. His last words were full of exaltation, and if you weren’t mistaken you could detect some sort of pride or triumph in his blazing eyes.
“Und ein Ring des Versprechens.”