Beta: Satyrykal

Hello my lovelies! This is a Jellal and Erza chapter. I love Jerza and have been talking about their relationship since chapter 2, so felt they deserved to meet up in this story. They've simmered on the back burner long enough!

May contain manga/anime spoilers (Tower of Heaven arc). Mild BDSM mentioned (like so mild it could just be a kink between two consenting adults), but the warning is here, anyway.

Chapter dedicated to everyone who understands my Jellal thirst! valerioux, noseinabook145, Avalanche65, artistofthemind, FireShifter, TheJSmooth, Professor of Gallifrey, savwafair, Kgvision, YukiMC, and ligersrcool xox

Chapter 22: Azure and Scarlet

"Journeys end in lovers meeting."

– William Shakespeare

It was the type of night where everything hits you the right way: the lights, the drinks, the conversation.

The music.

Everything altered between light and shadow on the dance floor. Erza Scarlet was at the epicenter of it all.

Her dress was like poured midnight – running down her voluptuous frame in long, deep swallows. Her skin star-kissed and her crimson hair streamed behind her like the tail of a comet.

She felt free. Untethered and beautiful.

She danced with some man whose name she hadn't quite caught. Sam? Dan?

It didn't matter. She was drunk enough that the conversation had fallen away into heated glances and playful brushes against each other.

"Miss Scarlet?" A tall man with hair that had more salt than pepper appeared at her elbow. He looked about thirty and wore a black suit. An authoritative air hung about him, as if he were used to people listening to him.

She stopped moving, but gave—Graham?—a sultry smirk so he knew she hadn't abandoned him for another dance partner.

"Yes?" The word dragged out of her throat. She wanted another drink to make the words go smoother. Make the night go smoother.

"I'm Adrien Thompson, the manager of the hotel." The music blared loud, too loud. She shouldn't have been able to hear him, but he pitched his voice low and somehow sliced right through the high vocals.

"Yes?" Erza said again, tilting her head to the side. She fanned her face with one hand, indicating how hot she felt to the man she'd been dancing with. Stan?—caught on quickly. He mimed swigging an invisible drink and canted his head towards the bar with a question in his eyes. She smiled and nodded.

Clever boy.

She turned, hand on her hip as she leaned her weight to the right, the creamy expanse of her leg visible through the high slit of her dress – giving the manager her full attention.

"You asked to be informed when your luggage was brought up and your room was ready," He said with a slight bow. "I apologize for the delay."

He didn't mention that most guests travelled a lot lighter than she did. She had offered to carry everything herself, but the desk clerk had been insistent. Borderline insulting, actually. So she had left the staff to it and gone to the hotel bar instead.

"Yes, of course. Thank you." Erza pulled some money out of the black zippered pouch that was hidden in her cleavage.

Mr. Thompson coughed violently, averting his eyes to the floor. Her eyes flashed at his reaction, but she said nothing – the ghost of a smile on her cherry-stained lips.

"For the bellhop's trouble," she said once the man had composed himself, pressing several warm bills into his hand.

"Allow me to extend my thanks on his behalf." The manager hands shook as he took the money from her. He reached into his pocket and pulled out her plastic key card, handing it to her. "Room 6B."

"The penthouse, Mr. Thompson?" Erza asked. It was a boutique hotel, one of the oldest in Hargeon. What it lacked in glass skylines, it made up for in location and character.

"Only our very best for one of Fairy Tail's top wizards," he said nervously, pulling out a handkerchief and dabbing at a trickle of sweat on his forehead.

A likely story. The more feasible explanation was that when the bellhop had gone outside and seen the sheer volume of her belongings, he had despaired at trying to fit everything inside a regular-sized suite. The desk clerk had probably directed the poor schlump to the penthouse to save face.

Mavis only knew what the clerk had told Adrien Thompson about it. Judging by the clamminess of the room card, nothing good. She sighed inwardly. Fairy Tail had a destructive reputation. She tried to view the free upgrade as anything other than a bribe to keep The Titania happy.

Tried and couldn't.

Idiots. She had been perfectly capable of handling her things herself.

Erza gave the older man a gracious smile, tipping her head so that her silky hair fell over one shoulder. "I appreciate your kindness."

"You're welcome. Enjoy your evening," he offered before melting into the crowd.

A moment later—Cam?—was there with her drink, a French martini. The coy smile she gave him came far more easily—as did her touch—her hand casually linking at his elbow as they moved away from the dance floor.

They found a high round table, one that held a finished beer bottle and two empty cocktail glasses. No chairs. Other patrons must have pilfered those long ago. She was careful not to let her arms or dress brush against it, avoiding the sticky spills dotting the surface. She took a sip of her drink, studying her dance partner over the rim.

He was undeniably good-looking – raven-haired, green eyed, muscular. When his hands had grazed her hips and shoulders while they were dancing, his fingers had lingered in such a way that she knew he'd be skilled in the bedroom. She had let the music and his touch shove her into the realm of fantasy.

Unfortunately, the distraction of the manager stalled her. She began to question if this was what she really wanted. Who she really wanted.

It never was.

Erza turned the conversation from flirtatious to duller areas. She let her glances and body language cool down in such a naturally flawless way that by the time she was finishing her drink and excusing herself, he was already eyeing up an ice-blue blonde standing by the bar.

"It was lovely to meet you, Erza," he murmured. He'd made eye contact with the shorter girl and seemed eager to be on his way.

"You as well." She said firmly.

When they shook hands, he gave slow caress of his thumb brushing over her knuckles. No doubt hedging his bets in case he struck out with his new quarry, or perhaps letting her know he'd still be game if she decided to try to find him later.

She smiled at his effort and gave a sensual squeeze of her own, letting him know exactly how her hand would feel grasping his cock. A parting gift.

It wasn't until she was walking up the flights of stairs to her room that she remembered his name was Bran. No doubt short for Brandon. How edgy of him to shorten it.

She slid her key into the black card reader. The green light blinked and gave a sharp click. Pushing down the brass handle, she swung the door open, padding silently inside the white-carpeted room.

Sheer luxury awaited her.

Perhaps there were merits to being bribed, after all.

Her suite was situated on the more desirable side of the hotel, facing the waters of the Calm Sea. The gauzy curtains had already been pulled back and the tall windows were open, the soft breeze carrying in the scent of sea salt and brine.

Waiting for her on the low marble coffee table was a complimentary bottle of chilled champagne in a steel ice bucket alongside a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries. The fruit dipped in dark cocoa, decorated with a swirl of sugary white flakes. Fancy. Next to the plate, on the crisp hotel stationary, she found a note thanking her for her patronage.

Please don't break anything, was what they really meant.

She resisted rolling her eyes, instead focusing on the decadent sweets waiting for her. She placed one of the berries between her lips, the tart nectar instantly exploding inside her mouth as she chewed slowly, savouring it.

Erza reached for the bottle next. She tore the gold foil off the rim, untwisting the wire cage holding the cork. With a hard yank, it popped off the moderately priced vintage and she poured the fizzy liquid inside a crystal flute.

Holding the stem loosely between two fingers, she went to stand by the centre window to look at the night sky. Smoky clouds blocked out the waning crescent moon and she couldn't see the stars. Lanterns on the docks cast a hazy glow over part of the water. There weren't many people about at this late hour, just a few fishermen standing around, passing cigarettes and stout brown jugs of alcohol back and forth.

In the far distance, a whitewashed lighthouse with a red peak stood sentinel, the beacon spinning slowly. Erza watched the light circle round and round, guiding sailors home...lost to her own thoughts.

When she had drained her glass, she stepped away from the windows and went to draw a bath.

Jellal stood watching from the shadows as Erza sat at a dressing table in the bedroom, a silver-plated hairbrush in her hand.

He would've sworn to all the gods her hair sparked gold at every brush stroke. Like striking flint with steel to make flame.

By the time she finished, her hair spilled down her back like liquid fire.

She dropped the brush, opening a small pot of lotion, dabbing a bit on her face before rubbing it in, her fingers streaking it across her high cheekbones. She selected a different moisturizer to put on her long legs.

The sight of her bending over and guiding her hands up, up, up the creamy expanse of slender flesh had him moving forward into the light.

"Hello, Erza."

Her response was instant, mechanical.

She swirled to face him, dagger already in hand, the metal glinting in the low light. When she saw who it was, the tension left her arm, but she paused for an extra second before re-quipping it back into the nether-sphere. She wasn't careless by nature. Not around him. Not anymore.

"Jellal. It's been a long time." Her voice remained steady. Casual, even. If you didn't know her as well as he did, you'd even say it was indifferent. But he caught the slight tremor of her right hand and inwardly smiled.

He liked her nervous. He liked to think he was already costing her something, just by being in the same room with him.

As she always cost him.

He kept his hands fisted inside his pockets so that she wouldn't see his own hands shaking. He felt the tendons flare, skin stretching tight over his knuckles. He'd never met a woman with a voice such as hers. Commanding yet rallying.

When she spoke, some feared her, but at the same time, her voice filled their bodies with the tension of a nocked arrow, waiting for her to yell Charge! or Onward! A call to arms. Knowing with absolute certainty she would be leading them to some sort of freedom. Others found her headstrong, still more called her domineering, but he found her exhilarating.

"It took you a long time to get to your room," he offered, to let her know he'd been watching her for a while.

If his words surprised her, she didn't let it show. She didn't bother asking how he'd found her. He had always been good at grand entrances…

...and silent exits.

Erza flashed her dry enamel smile. "The man who carried my luggage was very sweet, if a bit overwhelmed."

Jellal arched a brow, half hidden under his overgrown bangs. "Tell me how you really feel."

He had seen her heated conversation with the desk clerk a few hours ago, a slimy bastard who had patronizingly called her 'a little lady' and arrogantly told her to leave her luggage with 'a strong man to carry.'

Served him right when she did.

However, Jellal's question was more than just polite conversation. It was an old pastime of theirs. A swapping of truths.

Erza still seemed game. She tilted her head to the side, her voice coming out as a low purr. "Perhaps it's the feminist in me that views men like that as semi-useful pack animals, who run to do my bidding with the slightest bit of eyelash batting."

He laughed, his mouth slipping into a dark smile. "There she is. I missed you."

Erza didn't tell him she missed him back. She never did. But she pulled her bathrobe slightly tighter around herself, clenching the material protectively over her chest. It was almost the same thing. Almost.

He studied the woman in front of him. Her face devoid of makeup, hair curling slightly at the ends, damp and girlish. Her hazelnut irises blown wide in the dim light, bare toes burrowing into the plush carpet.

She looked younger than her almost twenty-one years. Vulnerable. Even though he knew she was anything but.

There had always been a never-ending stream of commentary running about Fairy Tail's top S-class female wizard. People called Erza beautiful, terrifying, and stubborn.

Yet he'd been surprised to learn one word constantly swirled around her, nipping like a winter wind.

Difficult.

That's what people said – Erza Scarlet is difficult.

Perhaps not dishonest, but the words held only a splinter of truth. They dug under his skin.

Other people couldn't see her. They saw the ferocity of her fighting, but not the vastness of her heart. Few could see the burning fire that forged her.

They couldn't see the wilderness in her eyes. The unmatched grace. They couldn't hear her heart beating with a roar dragons would fear.

He pitied them. All of them.

He had known, even as a small child, he would never meet her equal.

And he never had.

Simon had seen it – had died because of it. Because he refused to leave her.

Jellal would've made the same choice. Should've made the same choice. Had he been in his right mind, he would have, rather than be the cause of her torment.

She shifted slightly and he caught sight of the ribboned scars adorning both her wrists, silver against porcelain. He had matching marks on his own skin.

He knew her body was marred – from the manacles they had bound her with as a child, from the lashings of the whip across her back.

There were other scars, too. From sword-training and fighting opponents with magic. He had added to those injuries himself.

A patchwork of pain on her flesh. Scars of oppression, scars of freedom. At first glance, one wouldn't know the difference. But he knew.

He knew.

Jellal had traced his hands along every one of those scars. Had coaxed from her the story behind each of them that he hadn't already known. Kissed them. And in the darkest of nights, had breathed into her flesh that she was the wildfire that burned his very soul.

"Why are you here?" Erza asked sharply, pulling him out of his reverie. She went back to kneading lotion on her legs and he couldn't tell if she was being dismissive or trying to entice him.

Possibly both.

He let his grin widen. Isn't it obvious?

"I think you should leave." She stood and stalked past him, out of the bedroom and into the relative safety of better lighting and fewer horizontal surfaces.

Like that would deter him.

Jellal watched her—Erza's head held high and regal, her hips swaying—and felt his heart pounding far too hard in his chest.

She was beautiful in the way all sharp things were, and he'd be damned to the ninth circle of hell before he let himself be kicked out of this hotel room that easily.

He followed, not too close, watching as Erza poured herself a glass of champagne. She didn't bother offering him one since he was supposed to be on his way out.

Definitely rebuffing him.

Jellal took in her figure—how stiffly she moved, how she avoided looking at him—as he leaned against the door jamb. "Why do you want me to go?"

The muscles around Erza's jaw went tight, her throat bobbing once. "Because that's what you're going to do anyway, isn't it? It's what you're good at."

Another truth. This one clawed into him, but he admired her ability to say it.

"You know why I go."

He needed redemption. He needed his life to mean something. Jellal had formed Crime Sorcière as penance for his sins. Such things took time. They took blood. He had almost destroyed everything, had almost destroyed her, and atonement only comes to those who know the true meaning of sacrifice. He still hadn't given back the full pound of flesh he owed.

Maybe he never would.

He pushed the thought aside, moving to pour himself a glass of champagne he suddenly needed, ignoring her narrowed eyes tracking him.

Jellal took a long swallow of his drink.

"I always come back," he offered quietly. It was the truth.

Not enough. She didn't say it, but the words hung between them nonetheless.

"What do you want, Jellal?" Erza shifted her weight to her hip, her face unreadable.

He had expected her to ask, but forgot how to answer, it was such a loaded question.

Jellal wanted every part of her, which was the problem. He liked her off-key singing, and her stage fright, and how she couldn't make a decent cup of tea to save her life.

He liked her laugh—the caught-off-guard one—it made his chest tighten. He wanted beach holidays in sunlight, snow picnics in moonlight, and to cook her waffles with strawberries and whipped cream whenever she wanted them.

Mostly, he wanted to touch her, because that was the only way he could convince himself she was real.

He wanted to bury his hands in her hair, just to hear her moan when he did. He had always loved her scarlet hair. Most nights, he dreamt about it.

"I know," she said, her voice softer than rose petals.

Jellal blinked. Did he really say all that out loud?

He didn't care. Not one bit. He was going to say everything to this woman before they were through. Things lovers have been saying for centuries and things that didn't exist until the moment they found each other.

"It...hurts me...when you leave," Erza confessed. This was what she couldn't bear to tell Lucy, tell anyone in the guild, for that matter. The secret rendezvous, the pull Jellal had on her. Part of her hated it while the other part revelled in it. "Even when you come back...it hurts."

"I know," he whispered, feeling slightly ashamed of himself. What else could he say? He wasn't welcome anywhere in the world and had to keep moving, drifting from place to place, no more than a wisp of rumour and shadow.

"I've loved you ever since I was a child," he said. A paltry offering, but honest.

She didn't say it back, even though he ached to hear the words from her. Just once.

It was the reason he followed her whenever he could, to steal mere hours with her...to salve the scorching inside his heart.

It wasn't enough, but it somehow made things tolerable.

Erza searched his eyes. "Why must it always be pleasure and pain with you, Jellal?"

"It's what I'm good at." True. Oh, so very true. And how he hated himself for it.

"I try to stay away…" Lie. "I think about staying away," he amended. Truth. "I'm not good at it. Maybe someone cast a spell on me?"

He had said things like this before, some variation of her being a siren or goddess. Erza had often turned the word casting over and over in her mind. She liked the word. It had so many different meanings. Casting a spell, casting doubt, casting a fishing line.

Maybe they were all the same meaning, though. Casting meant to throw something away and then bring it back, hoping something you wanted was tangled inside.

Maybe there was some truth to his words, but she was just as ensnared as he was, equally unable to move away, to end it, to make demands she probably had the right to make but just couldn't.

Jellal prowled toward her two more steps, but stopped, giving her distance to decide.

"I want to love you, Erza. That's what I want. To make love until dawn and watch the sunrise with you." Maybe it was asking too much, but he'd always been greedy when it came to her.

Erza carefully placed her champagne flute back on the table and turned to study him. With deliberate slowness, she unknotted the sash of her bathrobe.

Jellal watched the hotel-issue robe slide over her shoulders, but then caught sight of her negligee.

The hue was true gold, the neckline plunging deep, Ezra's heavy breasts almost spilling out. Straps hardly thicker than threads held it to her shoulders. The satin sloped inward to her slim waist, before slinking around her hips to graze her upper thighs with a filigree of lace edging.

The gold foil seemed to liquify under his heated gaze.

Mavis have mercy...

She looked like poured honey and he wanted to taste every inch of her.

He stalked towards her, reaching up to touch her hair first. He always did. A soft sigh of relief left his body.

"I love you, Erza." Jellal repeated; knowing she heard him the first time but had sidestepped on answering him. Again. He tightened his grip on her hair, giving one sharp tug to force her to look at him.

"Jellal–"

"Tell me you want this. That you want me," he breathed, slipping one hand down to her waist, pulling her flush against his hardened length.

"I want you," she said honestly.

He didn't make her wait.

He crushed his mouth to hers – she opened instantly, inviting him to brush his tongue against hers. Their teeth clacked together as they tried to find the right angle, but then the trajectory aligned, and sharp heat uncoiled like a collapsing star.

He gripped her hips hard enough to leave bruises, but it didn't feel nearly close enough because he still had all his clothes on.

Jellal tore himself away to gulp in some air. He dragged one finger across her collarbone, scarcely touching skin, but sending hot shivers down her entire body.

Jellal's mouth recaptured hers, dragging a low moan from the back of her throat, and the sound he swallowed tasted every bit as sweet as he remembered.

He worked his way down to her jawline, brushing his lips just underneath her ear, finding her pulse point.

He bit down. Hard.

Erza whimpered, clutching at his shirt. He laved over the bite mark with his silken tongue.

"Careful," she gasped as he traced the column of her throat. "I can't go back to Fairy Tail covered in hickies."

"Only amateurs leave marks," he murmured distractedly.

She let loose a small peal of laughter, pulling back to look at him. "You're certainly confident. Have you become an expert on women now?"

"Only with you." Another truth. He had never touched another woman.

Unlike her earlier display…

Jellal let his hands slide up her waist, deliberately bunching the thin fabric of her nightie so that it went from mid-thigh to barely covering her sex. He halted his ascent at her rib cage, circling his thumbs just underneath her breasts.

Erza arched, offering herself to him, but he tightened his hold, keeping her firmly locked in place. Denying her his touch in all the places she wanted it the most.

Bastard.

Instead, Jellal went back to her ear, kissing her neck again with infuriating slowness, seeking out all the sensitive spots down to her shoulder. Dizzying touches that turned distinctly proprietary when he ground his impressive length into her core.

"Do you think Bran would've done this to you?"

"Probably," Erza answered glibly, not caring how he knew who Bran was. "All you've really done so far is fiddle with my neck."

He grin went feral. "Is that a challenge, Miss Scarlet?"

"Always, Mr. Fernandes. Always." Erza let her hand slip between their bodies to cup him intimately, her thumb brushing against the head of his straining cock. It twitched in response, obedient to her commands.

Unlike the man above her...

She gave one heavy stroke up and down through his pants. He growled, the primal sound pinning her against the wall as much as his hands were.

Hands that still weren't on her breasts. Her fingers stopped doing mischievous things to his hardened member, and she loosened her grip completely. Erza stood on tiptoe to plant an innocent peck at the corner of his mouth, giving him a wicked grin as she pulled away.

If he wanted to play, they would play.

One of Jellal's eyebrows hitched up in acknowledgment. She could be as much of a tease as he was.

His smirk could melt metal. "Should I take you on the bed, the couch or right here up against the wall?"

"Why not all three?" She asked with guileless wide eyes. "I thought you wanted a challenge."

"I have missed you."

"Show me," she said, pushing his long black coat off his shoulders. Erza started unbuttoning his light blue shirt, forcing her hands to move gradually, to not rip it off with her bare teeth...as every instinct in her body told her to do.

"Why must you always wear shirts with so many buttons?" She groused as one caught and refused to slide through its opening.

"I like to watch you work." He answered, quick and honest. He made zero moves to assist her. She grumbled a bit, but finally managed to unfasten the darned thing. She ripped it off and let it flutter to the floor, instantly forgotten.

Jellal stood half-naked in front of her and everything in her stilled. Froze. She drank him in, finding every sloping line of hard muscle just so, so perfect.

It took an iron-will to not fall on her knees in front of him and worship at the altar of his heavenly body, but she did it. Barely. He flashed a wolf's grin, oozing smugness.

Bastard. She'd show him.

Erza smoothed down her hair, instantly capturing his attention as she breathed, "There's a happy coincidence, I like to watch you work, too."

Not breaking eye contact, she pushed the spaghetti straps off her shoulders, letting her negligee pool to the ground, standing utterly naked before him.

Before she even had time to blink, his mouth found hers, his hands finally filling themselves with her breasts while she ran her own hands up his sides. She lingered over the sculpted pectorals, sliding down to his taut stomach.

… And she found his labyrinth of scars.

She slowly mapped them with a reverent and gentle caress of her fingertip. As if his ruined flesh contained secrets only she was allowed to know, and she could read his skin like Braille.

Erza dipped her head down to a particularly deep one near his sternum – caused by an arrow half a lifetime ago. Just before her mouth brushed against the damaged flesh, all the breath left her lungs in one gentle gust...as if having this small touch alone could make her happy all her life.

How could he not love this woman?

Jellal groaned as she kissed the scar, then the next one; her mouth moving with intent over his skin. He reached down to massage one of her breasts, twisting the pert nipple, and Erza made a noise, something caught between a moan and a gasp.

Her eyes sparkled with devious intent as she unbuckled his belt, caressing the smooth leather, fidgeting with the prong against her index finger as she slowly pulled the strap free. If there was anything sexier than gradually unfastening a man's belt, she had yet to find it.

The bulge of his pants raised toward her, his erection proud and straining against the material. She nudged the pants over his narrow hips, pulling his boxer briefs down with them until his cock sprung free – heavy and thick and glorious.

… And mouthwatering.

Erza worked her way down from his chest, past his navel until she sat fully on her knees in front of him. She reached up to guide his tall length between her lips.

She swallowed him whole.

He was huge and throbbing, but she was Erza Scarlet – Queen of the Fairies, and she would not yield to gag reflex.

Jellal gasped above her as she pulled back and plunged all the way down again. The tip of him brushed the back of her throat.

"Fuck, Erza."

If her mouth hadn't been so full, she would've smiled.

He gathered her hair up off her shoulders, looming his fingers through the cardinal strands until he had all of it knotted in his fist, pressing tight against the crown of her head.

Her tongue shaped itself around his swollen member with each lengthy stroke. Her mouth like waterlogged velvet as she bobbed up and down. Tasting him...touching him...losing herself in feel of him...

"Stop…"

Erza did nothing of the sort. His words spurred her forward and she increased her pace. He was magnificent and she needed more of him. All of him.

His cock tightened, engorging even more as she hollowed out her cheeks, sucking hard and long, gently squeezing his balls with her other hand. She could feel just how close he was...

"Stop." Jellal gave her head a sharp yank, pulling himself out of the warm confines of her mouth. She whined in protest.

He snarled and grabbed her elbow to haul her upright in front of him. His broad chest rising and falling as he breathed in and out, his olive irises flaring in irritation or lust.

Irritated lust. It sent a deep thrill curling inside her.

"What's the matter, Jellal? Is your stamina not up to snuff?" Erza made a show of studying her nails, giving a few deft strokes of his shaft with her other hand. "A few more seconds and you'd have been begging me to keep going."

He growled, pushing her flush against the wall, twisting her body so that she was forced to release his cock.

"My stamina is just fine, my dear Erza."

He grabbed her leg to drape over his forearm. "And as for begging…" Jellal closed the bit of distance between them, pressing his firm body to hers, his overheated skin sliding sinfully against her.

His hand crawled up her inner thigh, finding her soft folds. He gave a satisfied growl at the wetness he found there.

"As for begging…" he repeated, pressing his thumb to her clit as he slid two fingers inside her passage. She let out a soft cry. "You'll be the one who'll be begging in a moment."

Exactly how she wanted it.

He pumped his fingers into her slowly and she went warm and malleable beneath his touch. Erza tilted her head to the ceiling, her eyelids falling shut to better savour the sensation, rolling her hips.

"What should I do with you, Erza?" Jellal's whispered, his voice hot and seductive against her ear, like the possibilities were endless and he had nothing but time to satisfy every inch of her.

"Anything. Everything."

He let his fingers slacken and pulled them out of her. Erza's eyes flew open and she bit her bottom lip, but it didn't stop a needy whine from escaping.

Jellal's eyes flashed, and Erza knew there was no hope for it when he murmured, "Eager for it, are you?"

"Please, Jellal…"

"Ah, I was waiting for those manners of yours to kick in," he told her, lining up his throbbing cock with her entrance, pushing deep, deep, deep inside of her in one smooth motion.

Fuck! Erza's eyes rolled back, red spots dancing in her vision. She balanced precariously on tiptoe as he increased the pace.

They moved – all heat and fury, because every time they were together it was reckless and wanting. Jellal pushed her flat against the wall, moving like he wanted to carve himself inside her tight passage, but Erza didn't think to ask him to slow down. Too late for that now. She rocked her hips forward, and they found the perfect angle.

She screamed, a bit too high and loud for a hotel room with paper-thin walls. Jellal clamped one hand over her mouth, but loosened it instantly – voyeurs be damned, he liked to hear her. Then Erza was digging her nails into his back, maybe accidentally on purpose, and that was good, too.

Erza watched as Jellal's eyelids fluttered closed, so trusting and beautiful as the two of them clung to one another. She thought maybe they were cursed, the way she wished for things that couldn't possibly exist between them, because of pride or possession or fate.

This man had snuck into her heart like a thief in the night and no amount of armour could save her. A flush of anger overcame her that it should be so.

If he loved scarlet so much, she'd leave him with scarlet, all right. She tore at his shoulder blades until she felt blood dripping just beneath her fingernails.

"Jellal!" Erza cried, feeling her orgasm rushing up to consume her. It felt too fast, too soon, but Jellal didn't heed the warning in her voice, moving with short, brutal thrusts. He sunk his teeth into her neck and she shattered around him, scoring her nails down his back again.

"Erza," he hissed. With three final thrusts, he found his own release, spilling deep inside of her.

"Oh, you want to play, do you?" Jellal growled, wrapping his fingers around her throat, the heel of his palm pressing dangerously close to her pounding pulse. Not tight enough to cut off oxygen, but with enough pressure to send a fresh spasm of her arousal to gush over his manhood.

"Yesss…" The word slipping out like a sigh.

Jellal dropped her leg, pulling out of her and twirling her around to face the wall. Her hands hit the smooth surface as he pulled her hips up so that she bent low at the waist. Erza kept her back straight, submissive and pliant, ass raised high in the air.

Smack! The force of his hand came down sharp and vicious across the right cheek, but she whimpered in pure pleasure.

"Do you enjoy that, Erza?" Jellal asked, not waiting for her answer as he whacked her twice more in quick succession.

"Yes…" she breathed. She could feel her wetness smearing against her inner thighs when she rubbed them together.

Another slap, harder than the previous ones, and she gave a lust-filled moan.

"Were you going to fuck him?" Jellal demanded. He didn't have to say whom – she understood.

"No," Erza said, nibbling her bottom lip, holding back the whole truth. She wanted him to touch her again.

"But?"

She hesitated for the briefest of moments. "I miss you, all right? Sometimes I think I can move on with someone else but I can't."

It was the closest she could come to telling him that she loved him.

Jellal's fingers spider-walked up her spine. A gradual, pondering pace – each fingerprint like hot wax dripping onto her skin. He rested his flat palm between her shoulder blades.

"Do you want me to let you go?" he asked. She couldn't see his face, but the uncertainty flickering in his voice fractured her heart.

"Never." Erza spun around, dropping all pretense, all games. She faced him. The face she cherished above all others. She reached up to cup his neck, pulling him down to kiss her. His mouth remained unmoving, reluctant to open for her.

"Never," Erza repeated between blazing kisses. Tugging at his lower lip with her teeth, she silently commanded him to let her in. "If you never came back to me, I think I would die." Truth. Her words so genuine, they hit him like daggers.

"I will never love another woman, Erza." He gathered her close into a tight hug – a reaffirming touch deeper than mere lovers meeting.

"I know." She wrapped herself around him as best she could. "I have more feelings for you than I know what to do with…" she offered. "Please, Jellal. Let's not waste any more time. I want you. Only you. I always have."

"Erza…"

Mavis. The way he drew out her name made her heart clench wildly and sent a swooping sensation straight down into her stomach. His mouth found hers again, kissing her the way she wanted to be kissed. With hunger and need and love.

Jellal pushed her back against the wall, lowering his mouth to greedily suck on one nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure throughout her entire body. He kneaded her other breast, his thumb swiping over the fullest part before pinching the pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"Jellal, please…"

He kneeled in front of her, lifting her leg around his shoulder, her calf pressing into the coiled muscles of his back. Jellal bit his way up her thighs, licking at her folds like he could never get enough of her taste, and she needed this so bad...

"Please, Jellal. Don't stop."

He didn't.

Erza closed her eyes as he stroked her clit with his tongue, his fingers sliding easily inside her entrance. The wall felt hard and chilly against her backside, his mouth hot and rough on her sex.

"Jellal, please… I…" She quickly became a quivering mess above him. His fingers hooked inside of her, beckoning to the intense pleasure building within. His tongue delved in deeper, swirling over her swollen clit.

"I need you...inside of me…" she whimpered.

Jellal's eyes flashed up, and he didn't want to listen—not with the smirking challenge she threw at him earlier—but he couldn't resist her like this, shuddering and sweet.

He let her leg fall back to the floor, and even though she should've been steadier on two feet instead of one, she swayed, blinking like she was intoxicated...drunk on him. He inwardly preened, sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her over to the couch.

He dropped Erza onto it, her head hitting the small cushioned pillow at the arm, hair spilling like red ink around her. He followed at once, slotting himself over her.

"You're so beautiful, Erza."

"So are you, Jellal." She loved saying his name. She loved him. Erza wished she could tell him, but it was the final piece of armour around her heart and it was hard to let go.

When he entered her again, it was with a gentleness that stole all the breath from her lungs. Everything slower now, but no less passionate. No more frantic displays of dominance, but their souls entwining as much as their joined bodies.

Erza could feel his heart thundering inside his chest. It caused her eyes to burn. He was alive. He was precious and important and here, with her. She hid the sting of tears by pressing soft kisses into his throat, his pulse feathering against her lips.

Soon the languid pace changed, increasing by increments as the need to sink into each other as deeply as possible overtook them. She was all slick and soft where he was hard and rough, yet they fit together perfectly.

In the heat of the moment, he wanted to beg for her to run away with him. She was the only thing worth stealing. Hiding. Lying for.

… Dying for.

Jellal bit his lip to keep the traitorous words from coming out. She'd found a family, a home in Fairy Tail. No matter how selfish he wanted to be, no matter how desperately he wanted her; he couldn't put that choice before her.

His fugitive life wasn't for the Queen of the Fairies. Not his Erza. She shined far too brightly to ever remain hidden. Nor would he truly want her to be.

Jellal kissed her. He meant it to be sweet kiss, a hello-I'm-madly-in-love-with-you kiss, but Erza must've had other plans, because she dug her hands into the small of his back with purpose, pulling him closer.

"Don't treat me as though I'm made of glass," she growled, her lips red-bitten and irresistible. She looked so gorgeous like this: wrecked and writhing, trying to force him to move faster.

"I wouldn't dream of it, darling Erza." Jellal found a vicious pace, each thrust dragging blunt and deep inside of her, watching as her eyes glazed over.

He lurched up to his knees, gripping both her legs and throwing them to his shoulders. He bent her in half, moving so his body blanketed hers as he rammed into her over and over again, Erza whimpering beneath him like a trapped animal.

You belong to me. Jellal didn't dare far voice the thought, but it burned through him, even though it wasn't real, couldn't be the truth, could it? If anything, he belonged to her – heart, body and soul.

It didn't stop him from wanting to wring out every startled gasp from her. He slipped his hand down between her legs to find her engorged clit. He rubbed it with his thumb, frantic and none-too-gentle. Erza jolted, her back arching, her inner walls clamping down around him.

She gave a weak, throaty cry.

"Do you want to come now?"

Jellal didn't give her a chance to answer, his thrusts becoming shorter and more erratic. It was maddening, how her heat and tightness could ruin him, and Erza couldn't reply anyway, too far gone for words. She bucked up but had nowhere to go, not with him pinning her down into the couch cushions.

In the next instant, he felt her climax hit – so good and perfect he knew he couldn't hold back much longer.

"Jellal, I…" She looked up at him, lost and helpless, unable to voice the words, but her irises went impossibly dark and he found within them everything she could never say.

Gods, he loved her.

He'd been teetering on the edge for far too long. The force of his orgasm overtook him, swift and merciless. A static white light exploded behind his eyelids, blinding him.

Then he was slumping forward, collapsing on top of her.

Jellal couldn't say how long they stayed like that, pressed skin to skin. All he felt was the pounding rhythm of their heartbeats, not quite synchronized, but close.

He propped himself up on an elbow and tried to search for words, tried to find oxygen in which to utter them, but his mouth felt too dry and his head too light to form coherent thought.

Their lovemaking had stolen all language...reducing them to soft touches and unsteady breaths.

After a few moments or hours, or maybe half an eternity, he coughed, finding his voice again.

"How do you feel?" Tangled all naked beneath him, she looked like heaven and felt like sin.

"Hmmm…." Erza studied him from underneath the thick sweep of her dark lashes. "I feel like you still owe me the bed, at the very least."

He laughed. "Erza Scarlet, you can be quite demanding."

"I know," she smiled, and it was something private and inviting, made just for him, all bright and warm and soft.

His heart thrashed frantically, trying to rip itself out of his chest, just to stay with her, because he knew he had to leave her soon.

But not yet.

Not yet.

Jellal sat up on the couch, pulling her with him onto his lap. She came willingly, head on his shoulder, snuggling into him. He idly played with her hair as he glanced around the room.

"Are those chocolate-covered strawberries?"

"You wouldn't dare eat a strawberry that belongs to me," Erza cooed, and ran a finger across the base of his neck. A skimming caress or miming slicing his throat?

Both. He knew it was both.

Quick as a flash, Jellal leaned over, snatching one up and popping it into his mouth.

"I dare," he said with relish, swallowing thickly. He reached for a second piece of fruit. Erza growled in warning and he chuckled.

"Not to worry, this one's for you." Jellal selected the biggest one, holding it by the leafy green cap and dragging it slowly along her parted bottom lip, a tiny bit of cocoa smearing across her mouth. He bent down to lick off the treat, his tongue tracing where the berry had been. He nibbled her plush lower lip before angling his mouth to kiss her fully.

When he deepened the kiss, a sweetness that had nothing to do with the chocolate coursed through her veins.

Jellal pulled back and gave a lopsided grin, causing his birthmark to crinkle slightly, making him look a bit more devilish and a whole lot more sexy.

"Open," he commanded softly.

Erza puckered her mouth, wiggling her tongue out. Provocatively. Lewdly. He snickered, placing the delicacy between her lips. She took small bites, and he kissed her between each one. She gave a pleased sigh when she finished.

"Do you want more?" he asked.

"Always."

She wasn't just talking about the strawberries.

They took turns feeding each other until the plate was empty and another hunger demanded to be satisfied. Jellal carried her into the bedroom to continue what they were starting.

When the sunrise came hours later—in a spectacular array of pewter-brushed pinks and bronze-streaked violets—the two lovers were far too busy to notice.

A/N – It's my birthday today! First lemon ever. This is my love letter to Jellal and Erza, and I hope you like it. Come scream at me!

As always, love needs to go to the illustrious Satyrykal for editing this chapter! I'm incredibly lucky to have her feedback, advice and friendship. Satyrykal writes all these amazing Nalu stories. She's gives such depth to Nalu. Please go check her out!

Thank you to wordsaremyspells1331 and ShanaHollows for reading this, and being kind and encouraging! X

My next update will be my other story, If The Shoe Fits. Sorry it's been so long. Forgive me?

Last but certainly not least, thank you so much to everyone who reads, reviews, follows and favourites this story! I hope you're enjoying it!

Thank you, savwafair, Kgvision, ShanaHollows, valerioux, stranger1999, Jcat007, FireShifter, MasterGildarts, NaluAlways26, JAKEDSNAKE, noseinabook145, A Lore Writer, Satyrykal, Katnibal94, guest, Anna5949, Professor of Gallifrey, and AcidESP!