He always seemed to know before even she did when the train would roll back into town.
Rarity found herself wondering just how he managed such a feat more and more often these days. True, she’d always give him the date and approximate time that she was supposed to return from her latest far-flung errand, but more often than not issues would arise that would necessitate an early departure or an extended stay. The law of averages dictated, therefore, that her drake should fail in his romantic endeavors at least once or twice. But here they were, three years in, and he was always there at the station, waiting for her.
Perhaps she was thinking about it too hard. He was probably just asking Twilight to look into the future or something simple like that.
The train blew it’s whistle, and the ponies aboard filed down their car’s ramp to the station to waiting friends and loved ones. He was there, of course. The same as ever. He stood smiling and still until she reached the range of those great arms of his, and then swept her up like a filly and peppered her face with kisses. She squealed like a school-mare and playfully begged him off, admonished him that such behavior was unbecoming for a dragon of his stature.
His kiss was his answer. And, as always, it was the only answer she needed.
He placed her back on terra firma so he could carry her bags, and the two headed straight for Carousel Boutique. She filled him in the ins and outs of her trip while they walked. He would chime in at the appropriate times, offering diplomatic suggestions to her dealings with the creatures beyond Equestria’s borders or promises to speak to certain ambassadors.
All of this was prelude. Foreplay, one might even say.
They arrived at the Boutique and he led her upstairs. A bath had already been drawn, and he used his inner flames to heat the water while she undressed. Once the water was the perfect temperature, he helped her into the soothing steam and left her to soak.
Alone at last, Rarity wondered what he had in store for her this time. Would it be wine and chocolates? A five course meal from her favorite restaurant in Canterlot? Or perhaps he would simply pounce upon her, like a predator taking his prey.
It was always a surprise, and she loved him for it.
After a thorough soak and a light use of her favorite shampoos, she emptied the tub and magically dried herself. She peeked into the mirror, wincing as she always did at the streaks of gray starting to sneak into the royal purple. Her magic seized a ribbon and, with practiced ease, she pulled her mane into a bun perfectly positioned to hide those obvious signs of aging. She considered some foundation to hide the crow’s feet, but decided there simply wasn’t enough time.
Which was a shame. Whatever it was he had planned, she wanted to look her best.
She pushed open the bathroom door and was immediate surrounded by the calming aromas of some of her favorite candles; jasmine, vanilla, eucalyptus, and mint. She took a deep breath and sighed with pleasure before she took in the rest of the bedroom. The shades were drawn, and now the only light came from a number of candles he’d placed strategically around the bed. Her phonograph somewhere in the darkness, one of her most beloved smooth jazz records already spinning. It was lovely.
Lovely… but it was only perfect because he was there, smiling beside the bed. He was so tall now, so masculine. Just last year she’d seen him wrestle a fully grown minotaur to the ground when trade negotiations had hit a snag. But when he smiled, she could still see the baby dragon who had been so devoted to her from the moment he saw her.
Who had loved her from the start.
“I thought you’d like a massage.” He gestured at the bed.
Rarity put a hoof to her chest and looked around. “A massage sounds lovely, darling, but please forgive me.” She looked back with exaggerated confusion. “I don’t see a masseuse anywhere.”
He didn’t respond vocally. Just held both of his hands up and gave his digits a wiggle.
She giggled and crossed the room to her bed. “Are you implying a massage is just one of those things your fingers can do better than hooves?”
“I’m not implying anything.” He extended a hand to help her up onto the plush mattress. “I intend to show you how much better they can be.”
She shivered a little at the determined edge in his voice. She settled onto her belly, her legs sticking out straight in front and back of her. “By all means.” She purred. “Show me.”
She felt the bed shift beneath his weight as he joined her. He leaned down and started on her shoulders. She hummed as his strong hands went work, moving in slow circles, gently applying pressure. He was so strong, but he knew his own strength enough not to hurt her. His fingers joined the fray, and she gasped lightly at the added sensation.
His hands slid not down, but to the sides now. They worked their way up her front legs in slow, liquid strokes that reduced her from pony to putty in no time at all. By the time his hands returned to her back for a second round, she was limp.
He dragged his nails lightly down her back, and flinched when she hissed. “Too much?”
“Not at all, darling.” She reassured him. “By all means; scratch away.”
He went back to work, sliding his hands down her smooth, freshly cleaned coat toward her lower back. He couldn’t suppress a grin when he hit a particularly tense spot on her spine and she groaned. He focused his attention there for a while, working out the knot and enjoying how her little grunts of frustration became moans of pleasure. He finished the task by dragging his claws across the spot, then trailing them down past her cutie marks.
Rarity’s tail twitched. “Such a male, aren’t you? Going right for the flank.”
“I’ve missed this flank.” He massaged the alabaster globes, admiring their fullness, their soft heft. His claws trailed the diamonds emblazoned on either side, and she let out a little whine of pleasure. As much as he wanted nothing more to stay there for a while longer, there were another pair of legs that were owed some attention. He smirked at her her disappointed huff when his hands left her posterior and travelled down her rear legs, giving them the same treatment the front pair had gotten. He caressed and massaged every inch of her, all the way down to the tips of her hooves. He lingered there for just a moment, then started the long road back the way he’d come. He could hear her breath starting to hitch the closer he came to her flanks again, and he purposely dragged out the inevitable.
The moment she felt his hands touch the bottom of her bottom, she sprung her trap. In a single fluid movement, she slid her legs apart, boosted her posterior up slightly, and flagged her tail across her back.
And the predator now found himself very much the prey.
The seamstress looked back, a sultry look in her eye, and smirked. “I do hate to interrupt the professional at work, but I’m afraid you missed a spot.”
Steam billowed from Spike’s nostrils at the sight of the coral pink between Rarity’s thighs. Until now, he’d been perfectly in control. Hell, he’d even managed to keep himself from getting hard, even when the very noises the mare beneath him was making were enough to make him cum. But to see such a wanton display from such a paragon of femininity and poise? He was only flesh and blood. And that blood was very quickly making it’s way downtown. His thumbs hooked the inside of her thighs and pulled the mare’s cheeks apart just a little bit more.
He caught the scent of her arousal, and he was lost.
Rarity moaned like a whore at the first lick. She was very familiar with Spike’s serpentine tongue and just what he could do with it. But just because she’d been on this ride before didn’t mean it wasn’t her favorite one in the park. She panted and pawed at the bedspread as he devoured her, his passion so intense that at one point she could’ve sworn she felt the tip of his nose slide inside of her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, like he was giving her ass a hug, and she giggle-squealed when he lifted her back side off the bed to give himself better access to her folds. His tongue seemed like it was everywhere all at once, and she came with a kind of high, keening whine she would have been so embarrassed about were anyone else to hear it.
He let her ride out the last twitch of her climax, then thoroughly cleaned the mess he’d made. He returned her to the bed, licking his lips. “Let the record show that you gave in before I did.”
“Duly noted.” She panted into her pillow. “Now be a dear and fuck me, would you?”
“Oh, that won’t be a problem.” The dragon chuckled as he lowered himself atop the mare.
His body covered hers like a huge, flaming blanket, and she felt his hardness lining up with her well lubricated folds. Like his tongue, she was intimately familiar with every facet of that piece of his equipment. Smaller than most stallions, yes, but perfectly sized for her needs. She gasped as he slid inside, fitting into her as perfectly as a missing puzzle piece. She heard and felt him groan above her, and she wanted to say something. Whisper some clever sexy thing that would drive him absolutely crazy. But nothing would come.
And then he started moving, and suddenly none of it mattered.
It was slow and hot, their lovemaking, each in no hurry to get to the finish line. It was enough that they were here now, united with other in every way possible. His thrusts were even and strong, each one drawing a coo or a moan from the mare he was inside. She pumped her hips in time with his, the delicious friction of her clit on the bedspread making things that much better. She didn’t need to say anything, tell him to do anything. It was like he was reading the rate at which she was breathing, understanding some secret hidden in the pitch of her moans. He gave her just what she wanted.
He always did.
She came again just as she felt a familiar clench in his abs on her backside. “Rarity…”
“Inside.” She moaned, craning her neck back to look up into his eyes. “I need all of it.”
He growled deep in his throat as he came, a bestial sound that might send lesser ponies running. But not her. She moaned with satisfaction as his heated seed flooded her, marked her as his and his alone. It was like his heat was inside her now, as comforting there as it was over her.
When it was over, he didn’t collapse on her like some spent colt. He gently lowered himself, waited until his softening member slid free, and then rolled to the side, taking her with him. He wrapped her in his arms, his tail, and his wings. He rubbed his nose against her bun and breathed in the smell of her shampoo. “Why a bun?”
“I thought you liked my hair up.”
“I mean, I do? But…” Realization struck, and he squeezed her. “Is this about your gray hairs?”
She thought about lying to him, but knew it would do no good. “I hate them. I’m going straight to the store and dying the whole thing.”
“Rarity…”
“Or I’ll talk to Twilight about it. There must be a permanent way to…”
“Rarity, I love your gray hairs.”
She turned her head and frowned at him. “You don’t have to lie to me. There’s no need for false praise. You’ve already cum inside me, after all.”
He laughed before pecking her lips. “I’m serious. I love your gray hairs. Just as much as I love your crow’s feet.”
She rolled fully around to face him. “But why? If anything, you should hate them more than I do. You pined for me for years, Spike.”
“Yes. And now I have you.”
“But you wanted me then.” She nearly whined as she looked away. “And you’re stuck with me now.”
“Rarity.” He put his finger to her chin and forced her eyes up to meet his. Eyes that hadn’t changed a lick since he’d first laid eyes on them so many years ago. “When I gave you that massage, I wasn’t just trying to seduce you. I was trying to make you understand that I love all of you. Every single inch. And nothing’s going to change that.”
She gently smiled. “I’m just going to get older and grayer.”
“I know. And you’ll still be just as beautiful. Always.”
She pushed his hand to her lips and kissed it. “And these crow’s feet? Just going to get deeper.”
“Not as deep as my love for you.”
“Ugh, cheesy romance lines. How dare you use my weakness against me, you brute.” She playfully punched his chest. “And my flank’s going to get all saggy…”
“Okay, then it might be time for me to move on.”
She lunged at him as they laughed together, relishing the closeness, the intimacy. They made love again, and this time she was on top. She didn’t protest when his fingers found her hair tie, didn’t say a word when he pulled it loose. She leaned down and kissed him, a canopy of silver streaked purple hiding their passion from the world.
Their love had taken time, yes, but true love is often worth the wait.
No.
It’s always worth the wait.
Author's Note
I first wrote about these two back in 2012.
I want to thank Shakespearicles and LtMajorDude for giving me a reason to write them again ten years later.
Sparity Forever. Sparity Always.
