Summary:

Aelin's purchases arrive, and Rowan's going to die*.

*Metaphorically, of course. He does have that gold lingerie kink, after all.

Notes:

This is my first time writing smut, which is why it's on the shorter side.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Goddess in Gold

Aelin returned home from her shopping excursion and promptly left her clothes in the entryway, headed straight for the enormous bathing chamber. She dumped in an enormous amount of bath oils and salts and bubbly things, tied her hair up in a knot, donned a long, silky dressing gown, and went to fill a glass of wine while the tub filled. She returned and submerged herself in the scented heat of the tub, relishing its relief on her tired body. A brutal training session with Cassian the previous day was catching up to her. Eventually, she turned the water off and leaned her head back against the cool marble of the submerged tub.

The slamming of the door startled her awake. Rowan's pine and snow scent filled the room before he entered, she looked up at him with a sultry stare as she sipped from her glass. Enough of her bubbles had disappeared during her nap that she saw his eyes darken when he looked down at her. Grinning up at him, she crossed her legs and flicked a few drops of water at him. He didn't speak, but started shucking off his boots and then his weapons.

A very loud knock sounded at the door, and Rowan left to answer it.

Shit. Her lingerie.

Aelin squawked at him to wait as she vaulted herself out of the tub and dragged the silk dressing gown over her dripping, slightly oily body. Bare feet slipping a bit on the marble, she tried to race forward and beat him to the door. But Rowan, damn him, got there first on his long, muscled legs. He had just wrenched the door open and was glowering down at the young male faerie who had delivered her multitude of packages and bags.

"Nonono," she sang, "I'll take those!" Aelin ripped the small mountain of parcels from the male and yelled at Rowan to tip him as she raced back to deposit her purchases in her closet. Dumping them all in the farthest corner was all she had time to do before Rowan came barging in, brandishing a handful of papers at her.

"Aelin," he started, but she interrupted.

"Rowan," she said in the same serious tone.

He glowered down at her, and she simpered up at him.

He was having none of it.

"Did you really spend this much at some shop in Velaris?" He asked.

"Well, it was at a few shops," she said, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

"Aelin. It's irresponsible to spend so much. We're rebuilding after the war, and-"

She cut him off.

"Rowan. We have rebuilt. The war is over. It's all over. The Valg are gone. She is gone. We can enjoy ourselves a bit." She reached up to cup his tattooed cheek, tracing the black ink with her fingertips. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch.

They stayed that way for several moments, until she leaned her body against his, and pressed her lips against his for a chaste kiss.

"I bought you a present," she said, pulling away from him. "Want to see?" She was already walking into her closet, adding a little bit of bounce into her step.

His grunted response sounded somewhat affirmative, so she turned and winked at him as she shut the door behind her.

Inside, she raced to the back corner, rifling through bags and boxes until she found the one she wanted, lifting out its contents. Carefully, she pulled it on, desperately trying not to rip the delicate material, swearing when a seam caught on her hair. Honestly, she thought, she should've brought Mor to help her get the godsdamned thing on again. And she couldn't ask Rowan for help, either. Growling and hissing her way through, she finally made it into the shimmering gossamer of the piece without any damage, and she paced back and forth in front of the full-length mirror, feeling like something was missing from her ensemble. She rummaged around in her leather satchel while she thought, pulling out her favorite wine and taking a long pull, straight from the bottle. The mirror reflected the gold threads that twisted over her body, giving her an idea.

When she finally made her way out of the closet, she found Rowan standing across their bedroom, gazing out the parted curtains. He had shed the rest of his clothing except his pants, and Aelin took a moment to drink in the sight of his muscled back and the dark ink of his tattoo. She padded toward him on bare feet, waiting for him to turn and see her. She knew he knew she was there. Fae warrior senses, and all that. Aelin watched him take a deep breath before he turned to face her.

If the strongest full-blooded male fae alive was capable of squawking like the hawk he was, Rowan did just that. His throat bobbed and his jaw clenched as he took her in.

Rowan growled and crossed the space between them in two short strides. His eyes burned into hers as he rested his hands on her shoulders, then slowly trailed them up.

Rowan's hands threaded into the hair at her nape and tipped her head upward as he captured her lips in a kiss that she made just a little bit hotter with her flame. One hand dipped down to her waist as the other wrapped more securely around the back of her neck as he pulled her into him. He groaned into her mouth as she stood up on her toes and wrapped one leg around his own.

"I love you in gold," he growled low in her ear as they broke apart.

"I know," she whispered.

He rested his forehead against hers for a moment, before spinning her around and pulling her back against his as they faced the oval mirror in the corner.

The dress, if it could be called a dress, was made entirely of rows of woven gold thread and hit mid-thigh on the sides, dipping lower in the front and back, with a high neckline and nearly nonexistent back. Strategically placed stitching left little to the imagination, and Aelin had liberally dusted gold cosmetics along her collarbones, eyelids, lips, and cheekbones.

She felt like a goddess, and Rowan was staring at her in the mirror like she was one, too.

His large hands wrapped around her hipbones, pulling her backwards into him, and she felt his hard length press into her backside. She swallowed and tried to turn to him, but his hands held her in place. One of his large hands pressed against her lower abdomen, holding her against him, while the other slowly traced the swirling patterns of the golden stitching down over her collarbone and between her breasts. Her back arched into him as his fingers traced lower, stopping just before the apex of her thighs.

She ground her ass against his erection, and he growled in her ear.

"Wait."

She bared her teeth at him in the mirror but did as he said.

For what felt like an eternity, he stayed there, drinking in the sight of her and trailing his fingers in random paths over her skin.

Slowly, too slowly, he pressed his lips to the spot beneath her ear, tracing a path down to the scars of his claiming marks where her neck and shoulder met. He bit down on the marks and she gasped, arching further against him.

He huffed a laugh into her ear as his fingers traced back upward, circling around her breasts. She refused to whimper or beg, and he knew that she would, taking his time teasing her before finally, finally finding one peaked nipple through a gap in the threads of her gown. A moan escaped her lips, and Rowan's found the claiming marks again, his tongue tracing over the faint silvery scar he'd given her. His thumb flicked over her nipple, while his other hand dipped slightly lower, but still not where she wanted him. Baring her teeth at him again, she leaned forward to pull her gown up, but his hands pressed into her upper arms, stopping her.

Rowan pushed her toward the bed and spun her around to face him before stepping close enough that the backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed. He kissed her, hard, and pushed her backward so she fell onto the plush mattress. Rowan's large body followed hers, but he braced himself on his hands above her.

And growled.

Some primal part of her reacted, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, gold gown be damned.

But he stopped her, pushing her knees back down so her heels rested on the edge of the bed. He grinned down at her and finally dipped his fingers below the hem of the gown.

Rowan ground his lips into hers when he felt how wet she was for him and traced the pad of a finger over her clit. Aelin felt her hips buck against his hand, and he growled at her to be still.

She would do no such thing. She ground her hips against his hand, using her body to tell him what she wanted.

Thankfully, he obliged, pressing his thumb against her clit as he pushed one finger into her. Slowly, he began pumping his finger in and out of her, and she pushed against him wanting more .

"Patience, majesty," he whispered in her ear.

She swore viciously at him and wrapped her legs around him once more, rocking herself against him. Anything for more friction.

Rowan raised up higher but added a second finger inside her while he traced a pattern over her clit. Another moan escaped her as his mouth found her nipple and bit down, then his tongue swirled, erasing the small hurt.

Her hips canted in rhythm with his fingers as his lips found her other nipple, and she found herself close to release when he…

Stopped.

"What," he asked, "is in your hand?"

"What?" She had forgotten. "Oh. Nothing." She tossed the small scrap of cloth into a corner and promptly forgot about its existence.

Aelin used every ounce of strength she possessed to flip Rowan on his back, and she suspected he'd let her do so. But she didn't particularly care.

As her mouth claimed his, she reached between them and undid the buttons on his pants as deftly as she could while grinding herself against him. He growled against her lips when she wrapped her hand around him, and guided him into her, slowly sinking down on the length of him. She'd had enough waiting. Using his hands for balance, she rocked her hips against his, feeling the delicious friction when he bucked his hips up as she pushed down.

She gasped his name and felt his hand reach between them to trace circles against her swollen clit. Aelin felt herself clenching around him as a wave of pleasure crashed over her. Pressing her face into his neck, she bit down on her claiming marks, and he growled her name as they both found their pleasure.

Aelin collapsed onto his chest, feeling the seams of the embroidered gown press into her skin. Rowan kissed her before gently rolling them to the side to face each other on the bed. He traced his fingertips over her eyelids and cheekbones, and she leaned into his touch, almost purring with pleasure at just being able to be with him like this. Whenever she wanted.

"Aelin," he said, "What the hell?" He held his hands in front of her face.

The moment was broken when she looked up at him and realized he was covered in sparkling gold powder.

Notes: But what was in Aelin's hand? Thanks for reading!