Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

O~o~O

It all started because of a kiss.

An abrupt impulse. She didn’t know where it had come from, but it was like she was possessed when he finally rescued her that day. Such a nerve-wracking fight. And yet, triumphant, he remained. Through all the heatwaves and sparks, he’d stood his ground and won. Her brave hero.

As soon as he’d released her from her cage, taking her into his arms, Peach grabbed his face and kissed him.

A deep kiss. Lingering, desperate. Absolutely nothing like the chaste little pecks she would normally give him, on his cheek or his nose. No, she went for it, moving her mouth against his with fierce purpose. She hadn’t known she was capable of it. And neither did he, apparently; he nearly dropped her.

The entire dungeon was silent, and yet her blood roared in her ears. He didn’t respond at first. 

Then, the instant before she became frightened and pulled away, Mario’s grip tightened. He tilted his head just slightly for her. The tiniest, most hesitant signal. She gripped his hair and pressed into him a little more. His skin was hot. She could smell the sweat and the smoke, but also something undeniably him.

When she pulled away, fingers still tangled in his hair, he opened his eyes and blinked at her with many questions in his face. Searching her expression for answers. He opened his mouth, and then closed it again. 

Something dark had begun to simmer in his eyes, alongside his bewilderment. She’d never seen him look at her that way before, with that burning intent. Like he was starving, suddenly.

But he didn’t speak on it.

“Thank you,” she finally said, and her voice was smaller than she expected.

She still couldn’t explain what exactly had come over her, thinking on it hours later. Rubbing her temples, she looked out across the Kingdom from her balcony. Frustration, perhaps. They’d been walking a very peculiar line over the past couple of weeks. Conversations that went on for effortless hours, prolonged eye contact, lingering touches. Hugs that went on for longer than they should. Her entire day hinged on whether or not she got to see him, whether or not he would offer his polite escort and she would be able to touch him. She’d become embarrassingly attached to his scent. Somehow fresh, somehow a little earthy. Bright like sunshine. 

They had done nearly all you could do when it came to courting, just short of speaking three simple words to one another. Kissing him like that brought her senses flush with him. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. 

They’d returned to the Mushroom Kingdom with a mildly awkward silence. She didn’t know how to explain herself. He didn’t know how to ask. Just soft concern for one another. Are you okay? Oh don’t worry about me, are you hurt? No, I’m fine, I’m just glad you’re safe. Of course I’m safe, I’m with you. And nothing more was said regarding her impromptu kiss.

The town celebrated her safe return. Mario went home to rest up a bit. Peach retired to her bedroom, anticipating the moment she’d unknowingly been waiting all day for.

Mario was going to visit her on her balcony. They’d made a habit of it every night. And she had kissed him earlier.

Surely he didn’t need anything more to understand her feelings. How much more direct could she be? What would she say? How strongly did he feel? Surely he at least liked her. She didn’t want to get her hopes up if she was wrong, but the way he often stared at her gave her the instinct that he might feel the same. Just so open, so tender. Those big, celestial blue eyes couldn’t hide anything from her. 

She gave a happy hum, gazing up at the moon and thinking of those gorgeous eyes. She’d already put on her robe for the night. Her fingers absentmindedly played with the bow around her waist. 

Though she didn’t sincerely expect anything, kissing him that way had set her nervous system alight. She wanted him. She’d wanted him for a long time. And so, under her robe, solely for her own meek hopes and desires, she wore her very favorite set of underwear. A lacy, deep purple bra and panties that framed and highlighted her body in all the right ways. It was called lingerie, or so she had heard. She felt very pretty when she wore it. She felt especially pretty whenever she wore purple.

It felt so strange to wear the set in the open night air. A little exposed despite the security of her pink robe.

But she stood out and waited for him, hoping he would ask her about the kiss. Hoping he would possibly want to return it. The moon was her only company.

Though, the longer she waited, the more her mind wandered.

Perhaps he would appear before her in a dramatic swoop up over the edge of the balcony. Or maybe he would simply appear out of nowhere, as he sometimes seemed to with his silent gait. “Good evening, my Princess.” he might say, as he approached her. The moonlight shining in those bright, lovely eyes. Maybe he would be looking at her with that intense gaze like before as he took her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles, without breaking eye contact. “I couldn’t wait for another moment to see you.”

The world might be awash in pale blue light. “Is that so?” she would ask, suddenly breathless, blinking at him as her cheeks flushed with heat. He was standing so close to her. Holding her hand with such gentle regard. 

This dream of Mario nodded and gave a charming little smile. “Yes. Please forgive me for being so forward, but…” he gave a delicate pull on her wrist, bringing her closer and looping his arm around her waist. Pressing her against him. All without once glancing away. She watched his eyes darken with an unmistakable want. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since you kissed me today. Your intentions cannot be more clear. Please, allow me to show you how I feel tonight.”

He had begun to sway her back and forth, to a silent waltz. One hand clasping hers, the other resting naturally on her waist. Peach’s voice came a little shaky as she smiled. “Y—you mean, sex?” she asked, timid.

Mario gave a soft chuckle, and Peach let out a surprised gasp when twirled her around, and dipped her down.

“Where I come from,” he began, supporting her easily around her waist and shoulders. He looked deep into her eyes, his gaze alight with fervor above her. Like blue fire. Her heart pounded. “We call it making love."

Her cheeks went bright pink. “Oh,” she sighed, and he kissed her.

His mouth was hot. His entire body was hot, she could feel his hands and his torso through her robe, through his clothes. His Firebrand. She melted in his arms, clutching at his shirt and his shoulder. A new heat rushed down. Deep in her belly.

He pulled away, but not far. They breathed together. He looked upon her with earnest eyes. “Tell me, I need to know if you want this. If you say no, I will understand. I do not expect you to feel the same. You can tell me no right now and I will go. But I will not go any further until you tell me that you want to.” he fixed her with a serious gravity. Open desire and hopeful assurance in his face. As he said, he did not make a single move further, other than keeping her suspended above the floor. He couldn’t know that she felt the safest right there in his arms. 

Their relationship had shifted. Even if he hadn’t dipped and kissed her like that, she had been the one to shake the boat after he rescued her. Here was where they decided to push off shore with no intention of going back.

The point of no return. “Please,” she whispered, gripping his collar a little tighter. “I want this. I want you.”

He smiled, and spared a moment to secure her with one arm as he reached to comb a stray hair out of her face. “I want you, too.” he murmured with a soft look. The extraordinary tenderness of the gesture caused an even stronger wave of heat to pulse between her legs. He lifted her up to carry her back into her bedroom, and she threw her arms around his neck with delight. 

His triumphant march became accompanied by her pleased giggling when he began to press kisses all along her throat and shoulder. “My lady," he admonished playfully when she gripped his hair in response. “We have not even arrived to the bed!” 

He swooped her down, dipping her again as if to pretend he might just take her right there on the floor, and grinned as she let out a thrilled squeal. 

In this dream, she could be as loud as she wanted. No one could hear her. He met her with equal enthusiasm, openly laughing in a way she had only ever really heard him express his joy once before. His hands and mouth were hot on her skin. “The sound of your laughter is magical,” he said, stepping up to ease her down on her grand bed. “Let me see if I can make more of it…”

There were candles lit up throughout her room somehow. He laid her upon the sheets, a fluffy pillow magically right there for her head to rest, and crawled up over her with a sweet mischief in his eyes. He kissed her first. Passionate yet soothing, hand cupping around her jaw. But then those kisses trailed down, right behind her ear, pressing a little more into her neck. Tiny, teasing little nips that made her squirm and giggle. Venturing across her clavicle. One arm supported his weight by her head, the other hand skimmed down along her waist. Gently grasping at her breasts, and then down to her hips. Running up and down her thigh when her legs shifted. His touch was like fire even through her robe. Her chest heaved, a rush of heated tingles blooming in her lower belly. Her core ached with a damp heat.

“Ahi,” he groaned as she parted her legs for him to be able to press closer. His kisses wandered even further, following the dip of her robe, along her sternum. He discovered a hint of her bra as the fabric moved. “May I take this off?” he asked, pausing to look up at her as he held the fluffy pink fabric.

She could hardly answer. He kept a steady gaze on her, patient and kind, until she managed to breathe out a soft “please…” 

Pressing one last kiss to her throat, his hand found the waistband’s neat little bow and he pulled it apart in a quick motion. The robe slipped off her body like a magic curtain. Putting her on display, just for him. “Cara mia…” he gasped out, amazed as her body was revealed to him. The lacey, suggestive underwear. His eyes traced every little curve, every soft dip of her skin. She shifted a little under his scrutiny, cheeks going warm. He finally managed to blink and look at her eyes after several moments. “Oh, look at you. Clever woman. You knew that I would come…”

His voice was low with awe. His face flushed with a little color, as he must have realized she wanted this all along. His hand ghosted over her stomach, thumb tracing over the top hem of her underwear, sending chills up her spine and incomparable heat rushing straight down to her core. “Mario,” she gave a soft, bashful whine, hips shifting. 

He blinked several times before he shook himself out of his trance. “Yes, my Princess.” he returned to her, cupping her face with his hands. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you. I am at your service.” Leaning forward caused his pelvis to press right into hers, and she gasped. Nerves alight with him. His own arousal became very evident just then. The striking heat from his body seeped through his clothes right into her core, and she couldn’t help but let out a sharp moan in response.

“T—touch me, please.” she reached up, clinging to his shoulders.

He looked at her with unbound devotion in his eyes as he grasped her wrists. He pressed a brief kiss to her palm. “Let me focus on you,” he said, his voice suddenly husky. “I want you to enjoy this. Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

She couldn’t manage to respond except for a tiny whine. He gently placed her hands back down on the mattress, pausing for only a moment to stroke her face, before he finally got busy.

Blistering, ravishing kisses down her neck. Restless, caressing hands. His gloves had come off mysteriously, and his fingers teased and traced along her bra. She twisted under his ministrations. Gasping out his name. Her back arched up, pressing right into him, and he took the opportunity to undo the clasp. He groaned as her breasts were revealed to him. “You are so beautiful under the moonlight,” he murmured into her skin, grasping and stroking at her before he finally pressed his mouth into her nipple. 

Peach cried out, twisting underneath him as her arousal throbbed. Seeking any friction. She couldn’t stop whimpering with every breath as he kissed and suckled every inch of her that he could reach. From one nipple to the next. He alternated using his mouth and his hands. A raw tension wound itself tight deep in her core. 

He leaned over her, tongue laving over her nipple, as those burning eyes met hers. His torso pressed flush against her. He somehow was no longer wearing a shirt. He had already been stripped down to his underwear, so the raw heat of his skin against hers overtook her senses. Her hips squirmed desperately, wanting him closer. 

His hands traced down her sides. It tickled and burned and caused her to shiver all at once. She felt him smile into her breast. “I love how you sound,” he muttered, kisses falling down along her stomach. Her hips practically trembled. Her senses vibrated. “I love the way you move,” he added, when he dragged his hot palms all over her torso and down her legs, causing her hips to thrust into him. “So gorgeous. So perfect.”

If this were real, she might try to keep her hips from shaking. She might try to hold back the agonized moan that tore from her throat when he finally reached to stroke her core through her underwear. Gently prodding, running up and down her slit with the most featherlight pressure. She wanted more. He gave her a little more pressure, but held her hips steady with his other hand. 

“I can feel how wet you are. You like it here?” she could hear the tender smile in his voice when he found her clit and her entire body reacted with a jolt like he had shocked her. “Like that, or like this?”

She couldn’t answer except for an incomprehensible whimper. Trying to say his name, trying to tell him,  yes, yes! Trying to beg,  oh please don’t stop! He understood every unspoken word, every thought she couldn’t articulate. He gingerly pulled down her underwear, marveling with a soft murmur as she was exposed to his hungry eyes. His hands drew up behind her knees to spread her legs. Laying her bare before him. Under his smoldering gaze, she only felt more wet heat pulse through her. 

He ran his hands up through her thighs, stroking and scalding. His fingertips traced up her slit and instantly became coated with her. “Oh, you perfect, lovely woman,” he groaned as he circled her clit. She gripped the sheets and twisted her head, hips shivering under his touch. He backed away, still stroking as he turned the angle of his hand. “Can I try this?”

Peach gasped and whimpered when she felt his fingers gently prod at her entrance at the same instance his hot breath puffed against her. “Please,” she choked out, her voice a much higher pitch than she expected. At the same time he pushed a finger into her, he laid heavy, wet kisses upon her labia. Her jaw dropped open. “Ah, M— Mario!"

Her knees shook. A second finger slid easily into her, a splitting heat inside of her. At the same time, his scorching tongue teased around her clit. Her core wept with arousal. Her hands whipped up to grip his hair. Mario let out a huffing breath, startled, before he smiled and picked up the pace. Fingers pushing in and out of her, tongue flicking over her clit with more and more pressure. Her chest heaved. Her quivering form drew up with tension. Fast approaching the edge.

“Mario!” she yelped, when she gave a harsh twitch. Nearly there. So blindingly close, but she didn’t want it yet.

He understood what she meant. She didn’t have to say a single word. His hand pulled away and he pressed one last cheeky kiss directly to her clit, before he drew up over her again. “Like this?” he asked, breathless, as he braced himself over her and allowed his hips to press into hers. His underwear had mysteriously vanished. The hard length of his cock rubbed against her folds, and Peach threw her head back against the pillow. Mario swallowed her cry with a gentle kiss, shifting his hips back and forth. “Here, you can hold onto me.” he guided her hands to his shoulders, and tilted her chin down so he could look into her hazy eyes. 

She lay before him, gasping and trembling. She wanted to tell him how close she was. How she was right there, how she needed him. How much she wanted to make him feel good, too. How his cock was so hot against her skin that he might just burn her. How she wanted him more than anything. How she loved him. Mario’s eyes softened with understanding despite her being unable to say any of this. 

“Easy, my love,” he breathed, touching her face. “Let me take care of you. Relax for me…”

He pressed the head of his cock at her entrance. Burning, pulsing. They moaned together. He grasped at her hip at the same time she gripped his hair. Scorching heat met with her soaking core. He pushed inside. Achingly slow. 

He pushed until his hips were flush with hers. Filling her with his excruciating warmth. His skin pressing against the back of her thighs and the new fever inside of her set a prickling tension alight in her lower belly. The arm braced beside her shook. When she opened her eyes, she was met with tender, devoted blue eyes. “Y—you’re so beautiful…” he rasped, the moonlight illuminating their bodies, together.

A gentle push and pull. He began to move inside her with a tilt of his hips, starting slow before he began to thrust in earnest. His eyes remained on hers the entire time. A blazing stare. Her core throbbed. She saw the way his eyebrows creased and his mouth fell open, deliciously sweet agony wrenching them together, again and again. 

She clung to him like he was her only salvation in the swelling sea of her sheets. He clutched at her like she was the only thing keeping him tethered. “Peach,” his voice caught when he finally spoke her name, driving into her with deep intent. “Ahi, Peach, you feel so good. You’re so—so warm, and perfect. You’re close. I can feel it. Hu—How do you need me? Here?”

Each thrust brought her closer and closer. He drew up one of her legs and let her knee rest over his shoulder. Opening up to a new angle. Peach could have screamed when he reached down to stroke her clit. Exact, measured strokes. Pressing into her with fervid vigor. Precise focus. “Th—there!” she insisted, as his cock pumped into her. He watched her every move and responded with exactly what she needed. 

A vicious tension came over her. Her body clenched. She wanted to beg. She wanted to shout. “Let go, cara, you’re safe.” Mario’s voice came over the dazzling strain, threatening to tear her apart. A soft kiss to her shoulder. “It’s okay, I got you. You can let go. I love you.”

Silence.

The dream stopped.

Peach blinked to awareness with a start.

She wasn’t lying in her bed with Mario making love to her at the very edge of orgasm. No, she was standing, spacing out on her balcony, with a very definite wetness having pooled between her legs.

“Oh…” she let out, now hyper aware of the slight discomfort of her arousal, now cooled. She shifted the way she was standing and swallowed hard. 

Damn. She’d never had a fantasy that intense before. She must have been right on the edge of finishing through her own imagination. But the awkward timing put her on edge. She couldn’t stand there with soaking underwear while Mario visited! Even if there was no way he could know. She’d be shifting and squirming with those raunchy thoughts while he probably only expected to have some tea and a short chat. Her eyes widened. Would he be able to tell? Her face felt hot, an obvious blush that wouldn’t go away. What if he figured out what she’d been doing?

She suddenly felt ridiculous for dressing up to seduce him when he realistically wasn’t all that interested. Especially in going so far right away. Surely if he knew about her silly little hopes, he’d be disturbed.

Maybe she had a little bit of time to hop into a hot shower to take care of her little problem before he arrived. That sounded like a good plan. Hopefully she could indulge that vivid fantasy to the end. And then change into something decidedly more decent and proper for his company.

No, wait. Just there, down along the path. She saw that distinctive red hat. Peach froze. 

Too late. He was here. 

O~o~O

Chapter Text

O~o~O

It all started with a kiss.

It wasn’t unusual for Peach to kiss him, and Mario would be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t started to look forward to a kiss after rescuing her. Especially with how close they had gotten over the past several weeks. One tiny gesture could send his heart soaring for hours, and maybe she had some idea of her effect on him because she never hesitated to press a sweet kiss to his cheek or to his nose. 

But she had never kissed him like that before.

The fight had been rough; there had been all kinds of new tricks from Bowser to deal with. But he’d survived, as he always did, and immediately raced for the cage.

As soon as he opened the doors, she’d practically leapt into his arms and crashed her lips against his. Mario panicked for a moment, thinking she’d tripped into him by mistake as he stumbled back a step, only to realize she was kissing him. Hungrily, desperately, and with purpose in a way that he wouldn’t have even remotely allowed himself to imagine before. He tensed. Couldn’t process her passion as real, exactly. Could he be dreaming?

Could he dare to kiss her back? Some deep, slithering instinct inside was far too frightened to actually reciprocate. For fear that he might be misreading. But he stood firm and tilted his head just slightly for her. Not responding in kind exactly, but in no way resistant, either.

Her hands wound around his neck. One hand gripped his hair. His entire body tensed up in response, an automatic reaction. Nope, it was definitely real. 

That kiss had left him breathless, even hours later. He remembered staring at her after she’d pulled away, unable to say a single intelligent thing to her. She looked pleased, and yet somehow a little afraid as well.

Was it only an accident? Or if she had kissed him that way intentionally, did she regret it? He wondered and wondered, hardly paying any attention at all to the journey back or the town’s celebrations before he finally invented a reason that he had to go home. Trying to sort out his thoughts. To understand the aggressive heat that had flushed through his system at even the faintest hint of that memory. He’d never felt her so close to him before, her perfume and her soft skin. Her body, so warm and lovely, pressing against him.

Why couldn’t he say anything to her? He was scared, obviously. But he could have at least asked her what she meant, right?

No, that was it. He was scared of knowing her intentions because he couldn’t bear it if her answer wasn’t the one he so desperately wanted to hear. Not knowing was safer. It allowed him to continue to exist in the ambiguous bubble they’d made for themselves for so long now, this tender intimacy they had found together without any explicit declaration. 

That was pretty rotten of him. Avoiding the very clear opportunity to clarify what they were once and for all because he was too much of a coward to step out of his little imaginary world where she might possibly love him back.

He let his head fall against the wall of his bedroom, groaning. That wasn’t what he was supposed to be; he was supposed to be the brave one who could face even the hardest answers. He had to make it right. When he went for his nightly visit to her balcony, he would have to be the one to bring it up. He would have to stand his ground and ask her directly what she meant by kissing him so fiercely. Even if it turned out it was some typical gesture of gratitude that he had somehow not come across previously in the Mushroom Kingdom’s culture. No matter what, he would have to take her answer no matter what it was. Even if it caused things to change between them.

It might finally be time for him to be honest about his feelings for her. He covered his face.

He imagined what it would be like to venture up to her balcony that night. It had been a warm evening, but the pale light of the moon and the breeze seemed to cause a chill. Not that it would bother him. Perhaps she was cold. Perhaps he wouldn’t find her right away.

Blinking, he might look around, briefly taking in the view of the Kingdom, before realizing he didn’t know where she was. 

Maybe he would start to call her name before a presence materialized behind him and a hand delicately rested on his shoulder.

“Why, hello there, stranger.” she purred right in his ear, causing goosebumps to rise along his neck. He whirled around to face her. Her piercing blue eyes, illuminated by the light of the moon, fixed on him with an alluring power. She let her fingers walk along his shoulder, each deliberate touch making his heart leap up to his throat. “I was hoping you would come tonight.”

Mario swallowed hard. “You—you were?” he asked, inwardly cursing himself when he felt his body react with a definite heat.

She nodded with a sly smile. Mario only just realized she was wearing a satiny nightgown that flashed under the pale light. The gown didn’t do much at all to hide the shape of her body. Face growing hot, Mario quickly corrected himself and looked adamantly into her eyes. She stepped closer, allowing her finger to trace down along his chest, amusement dancing across her lips. “Oh, yes. I’ve been waiting for so long…”

In her towering splendor, she advanced on him. Mario stepped back. She followed, and he had to move until his back hit the rail of the balcony. “I—I need to ask, if you, ehm, if you—” his voice cracked when her hands smoothed over his shoulders, a lingering touch at his neck. He struggled to gather himself, choking on a breath. His hand gripped the stone behind him. “I need to ask what you—what you meant by, ah, earlier.” he managed to say. 

“Earlier?” Peach crooned, a playful ignorance in her tone not at all matched by the clever shimmer in her eyes. She pressed closer still. A clever dance of her fingers across his chest caused the top two buttons of his shirt to be undone. He was suddenly wearing a plain collared shirt instead of his overalls.

His cheeks burned. “You kissed me.” he said, hoarse. His hands shook. 

Her eyes flickered up at him and she grinned. He swore all the blood in his body rushed straight down, just from that look . “I kiss you all the time,” she teased, leaning so close that her breath puffed against his face. Petrified, Mario fought to control his breathing when her warm lips pressed a lingering kiss directly to his cheek. “I kiss your cheek, your nose…” she leaned back just enough to kiss the very tip of his nose. “Your forehead…”

Her hand smoothed over his hand, as if checking him for a fever, before she followed with a gentle kiss there, too. She traced his creased brow with the tip of her finger. He tried very hard not to shudder beneath her touch. “N—no, I meant…” he started, only for his voice to catch when a third button came undone. 

“Ah, you mean like this,” she gave a dark smirk and pressed her lips to his just like before. An intense, burning kiss. He shut his eyes and groaned.

All passion and no hurry. She kissed him like she had all the time in the world, unaware that his knees grew weak under her touch. Sensual and slow. When she finally pulled away, regarding his dazed expression with pride, he tried in vain to pull himself together. “Please,” he let out. “I don’t understand…”

She pulled away, her wandering hands taming themselves for a moment as she gazed upon him with gentle patience. She smoothed his collar while his chest heaved, and he shut his eyes. Unable to look at her. The hot shame brewed in his chest, knowing she was watching him have such clear physical responses to her that he was failing to control. “Yes?” she prompted him, much gentler than she had been.

Giving him space. His breath stuttered. She knelt down and found his hands tightly gripping the stone behind him, and she tried to soothe him. Thumbs stroking along his knuckles. “Princess, I—I am very attracted to you.” he blurted, immediately wanting to cover his face. But when her eyes fixed on his, he couldn’t move. “When you…you kiss me that way, I feel…”

His throat went dry. He blinked several times, straining to find the words to get across what he needed her to understand. She regarded him with soft kindness. A manner he was more familiar with, and one that wrenched him all the same.

“I feel v—very strong about it. The way that you touch and speak to me, I don’t understand what—what you feel.” Mario’s words came out so ridiculously clumsy and he knew it. He had to pray she understood what he was trying to spit out. “So please, I need…I need to know what you are feeling.”

A cold spike of fear shot through him. But Peach only smiled, and reached up to touch his face. “I suppose I should be a little more clear, but I guess I was a little afraid, hoping the kiss would speak for me,” she murmured, leaning closer. His heart nearly stopped right there. “I’m deeply attracted to you too, Mario.”

He huffed out a quiet sound when she kissed him again. A tiny moan. How long had he been shoving down his dreams of hearing her say something like that? To feel her moving against him like this? Her perfume was intoxicating. He wanted to take her in, like wine, washing over his senses with a tart haze. His arousal ached.

He wanted to apologize. He wanted to tell her that her kiss spoke plenty for her, but he was just the one who panicked about misreading signals. He wanted to tell her everything that had weighed on his chest for months, maybe years about her. How he adored her, admired her, wanted to be by her side always. How he’d struggled in vain to control his desire for her. How she came to his dreams anyway. How he wanted to touch her, to pleasure her to no end. 

But when she pulled away, he realized with the tender understanding in her eyes and her sweet smile that he didn’t have to say anything. She already knew.

“You poor dear, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted this…” her hands continued their wicked mischief, working on a fourth button. “I know you get so stressed and worried, and I just want to help you let it go. I want to help you feel good.”

She punctuated by reaching down and pressing her hand directly into his crotch. 

Mario stiffened and had to bite back a yelp. She palmed him, rubbing and stroking at him through his pants, all without allowing him to look away. Those clever eyes fixed right on him, gleaming with satisfaction. She wanted this, he realized. She wanted to see him like this. Barely able to keep standing under her touch. He relented a little, slumping against the stone as she touched him.

“So hard for me already,” she sighed, grasping him in just the right way to make him let out a sharp sound. “Good, there are so many things I want to do to you…”

Mario cast a panicked glance over his shoulder. The balcony was high, but not so high that any passersby wouldn’t be able to guess what they were doing. “Princess…” he choked out, his voice catching in his throat as he searched the ground for any possible witnesses.

She gave a dark chuckle. “Of course, where are my manners?” she tilted her head with those doe eyes, feigning innocence. Kneeling down in front of him like this, they were at a slightly more even height. When Mario couldn’t manage to hold eye contact, he realized he was looking straight down at her, where her nightgown hinted at her curves and her cleavage. The moon revealed the shape of her breast, and he realized in an instant that she wasn’t wearing a bra. He whipped his head back up with wide eyes. She tilted her chin up with a sultry smirk as she got to her feet, taking his hand. “Oh, don’t be shy, darling. You can look. Why don’t you come inside?”

He stumbled along by her lead, trying in vain not to stare at the way she walked. Such nubile grace. The perfect sway of her hips. She brought him into her bedroom, all silk and cashmere and dazzling darkness, and he couldn’t help but feel like a sailor falling straight into the domain of a siren. 

Mario knew with a hitched breath that he would happily fall under her spell. 

She let go of him only a few steps from her bed. Moving a little further, she flicked a foxy look over her shoulder before she slowly traced her hands down her waist to the hem of her nightgown. 

“Do you like what you see?” she asked, her voice husky as she played with the satin. “I was hoping that you would like this outfit. But maybe I should take it off?”

Mario gulped. The panic came roaring back. Did she really want this? Was it a trick question? What if she didn’t want to take it off? He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her supple breasts resting naturally against the gown, the thin fabric doing very little to hide anything. The curve of her back. Those playful hands directing his darting gaze. The shape of her rear. His face must be bright red.

She smoothed the sheets of the bed with her hands before she turned and sat upon the mattress. Her gaze softened. She beckoned him closer. “Come here, sweetheart. Come,” she waited for him to be brave and close the distance between him. When he paused a couple of steps away, she gestured for him again and drew him closer, running her hands along his arms. “Look at me, handsome. I want to see those pretty eyes of yours.”

He did as she said, and tried to keep himself from shuddering when she guided his hands to rest on her waist. Her body felt so warm beneath his hands. When did he take off his gloves? 

She nodded. “Good,” she hummed, and the praise sent a chill down his spine. “Now kiss me.”

A shadow of doubt and fear raced through his head, but she gave a small tug on his collar. He nearly fell forward into her. He kissed her, and she encouraged him with a soft sigh and wandering hands across his shoulders. The sounds that came from her were positively erotic. Heat rushed straight down as her lips moved with his. “Princess…” he muttered weakly when she pulled away only to begin dotting tiny kisses along his cheek.

Making her way to his jaw, she kept him from backing away by drawing his arms further around her. His entire torso flush with hers. “I know that you want this,” she murmured into his neck, sending goosebumps all across his shoulders and down his back. His halfway unbuttoned shirt made it easy for her to expose his shoulders, sliding the fabric down. “But I want to hear you say it. I want you to tell me exactly what you want. Say that you want me to take my gown off.”

His breath wavered. Hypnotized, he responded. “I—I want you to—!” his voice caught when she found a sensitive spot along his throat, suckling there. “I want you to t—take your gown off,” he gasped out.

With a pleased giggle, she arched her back into his touch and grinned down at him. “Well, if you insist,” she teased, and reached down. Her fingers lifted up the hem, with tantalizing slowness, and Mario had no hope of averting his eyes as the satin drew up, revealing her body to him inch by delicious inch.

She let out a provocative hum as his eyes raked over her. The softness of her breasts, pink nipples exposed to the night chill. Her smooth thighs, shifting together as if she were searching for friction while he took her in. Only a tiny, lacy piece of bright red fabric concealed her most sensitive place. He had to bite back a moan when she reached out and traced languid circles along his chest with her nail. 

“Tell me what you want,” she commanded, her voice like velvet. “Tell me that you want to touch me.”

Mario found himself helpless to her pull. “I want to touch you.” he murmured, breathless as she reached for his hands and guided him to her breasts. 

He traced her with his fingers, barely touching at first before she shifted and gave a tiny, pleading sound. Then he grasped her in earnest, watching the way she responded. Leaning into him. Telling him that she wanted him more when her hips shifted. He touched her breasts, running his hands up and down and marveling at the feeling of her nipples peaking. He stroked them, and felt an incredible desire to put his mouth on her. 

She knew his every thought before he could even conceive it. “Tell me that you want to kiss me,” she breathed, her eyes bright in the moonlight.

“I want to kiss you.” he responded, his voice gaining strength as he leaned into her to kiss her breasts.

She let out soft, wanton gasps. Mario followed at her own insistence when she moved further into the bed, climbing up after her. He kissed and licked and nipped at her in all the ways he could think of, trying to hear more of her tiny whimpers. Trying to make her squirm the way she made him squirm. Her nipples, along her ribs, down her stomach, to her hip bone. Her skin was so soft.

Entranced, he found himself speaking before she had to prompt him. “I want to take this off,” he huffed out, finding the edge of her lacy underwear. “I—I want to taste you.”

He looked up at her only to find those lustful, hooded eyes fixed right on him. “Then take it off and taste me,” she purred.

Moving up, he helped her shift so he could draw her panties down, only to pause as she spread her legs for him. “Ahi,” he marveled as she was exposed to him. Her lips, so wet and swollen. Her arousal, so heady and sweet. He ducked down and pressed a kiss to the very top of her slit. Her hips gave a tiny quiver. Her hands found their way to his hair again, and he gasped when she gave a small tug. The back of her thighs pressed into his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around her legs so she could relax and kissed her urgently.

“Oh! Mario,” she gasped, and the way that she shook and let herself moan so sweetly for him rushed straight down to his cock. He didn’t remember taking off his shirt, or his pants. They were gone. He just felt his erection straining against his underwear, pressure only growing with every little sound she made. 

He knew what to do. He traced her with his tongue, moving in a pattern with special attention to her clit. She liked it when he focused on her there; the way her hips jerked involuntarily and thrust up into his jaw made him groan, too. Her core was so slick. The sounds that she made were so alluring that he only felt more agitated. Eager to please her. Eager to wring that tension he could feel in her core as tight as it could go, toward release. He would get her there. Every pass of his tongue across her clit wrought her tighter. She began to tremble.

Tighter still. He could feel himself throbbing for her as her voice hit a soaring note. So desperate and broken and renewed. He continued his pattern for a few more strokes before he finally pursed his lips to suckle on her clit. 

“Mario!” she cried out for him, and she fell apart by his tongue. 

He took her through it. Her orgasm came in soft waves that he could feel. The squirming and straining of those lovely hips of hers narrated it for him, and he kissed her over and over. Soothing and stirring all at once. His cock ached viciously. 

Her hands left his head. Feeling along the sheets as if to find her sense of being again. The sight of her heaving chest, breasts rising and falling, her flushed cheeks, her arousal glistening at her core, was all the sweetest torture. “Tell me,” she panted, her dark charm harmonizing with her flustered pleasure. “Tell me that you want to be inside me.”

Mario’s cock jumped. He almost winced. Sharp sparks of arousal shot through his system at the mere thought, he wasn’t sure he could handle the real thing. But he wanted it.

 “I—I want to be inside you,” he echoed, lifting himself up and climbing up over her. She looped her arms around his neck with that captivating, triumphant smile. His cock pressed directly against her, underwear mysteriously gone, and he ducked his head down to let out a tormented sound into her shoulder as he felt her slick. He became overwhelmed with her, the words coming out before he could stop them. “I want to feel you all around me. I want to feel how hot and wet you are. I want to make you come again and again. I want to make you scream.”

Holding him close, she ran one hand along his back and the other up through his hair. “Then do it.” she cooed, right in his ear.

Mario growled into her neck and reached down to align himself with her entrance. He was so hard that it hurt. The tip of his head pushed in first, and he had to stifle an agonized moan against her when she shifted for him and he was taken into her molten warmth. She gasped with delight beneath him, gripping his hair tighter.

He pushed. She was so wet that it was easy. He managed to prop up just to watch himself disappear in her. 

“Ahi,” he choked out, and her silken core pulsed around him. His hands rested at the back of her knees, keeping her legs apart. He looked to her for any sign of discomfort. She gazed up at him with nothing but striking pleasure in her hazy eyes. He wanted to live in a moment like this forever, and took a moment to release one of her legs to reach forward and touch her face. “M—my Princess…”

His thumb stroked her cheek. She closed his eyes to his touch, and gave a sweet smile. Adoring, enraptured. “Please…” she whispered. Her hips shuddered.

Tilting his pelvis, he gently pulled in and out. Her wet friction was all encompassing, and Mario let out a strangled sound. His hand shook, so he braced himself beside her head and felt her legs wrap around his waist. It was heaven inside of her. 

“More,” her arms wrapped around his shoulders, bringing him closer. “Tell me how—how much you want me. T—tell me how good it is.”

Mario couldn’t look away from her face. He wanted to see every moment, every way her expression contorted with exquisite anguish. The notion that he was the one making her feel that way made the tension in his belly coil tighter. “I—I want you, for so long, Princess.” the words spilled from him, her gentle prompt wrenching out his truths that he’d tried so hard to squander. He thrust into her without abandon. She met every stroke with equal fervor. “I can’t stop thinking about you ever. It’s so good, you feel so good. S—so warm and perfect. Ahi, così dolce, non merito…So—sono vicino…”

Her hand ran up his scalp, and he shivered as they quickened the pace. “I’ve wanted you too,” she said, her voice tight. He drove into her, just to hear her sharp, precious moans. He could tell by the way she quivered beneath him that she was about to come undone again. He wanted to take her there. He wanted her to bring him there, too, because he would follow her anywhere. His cock throbbed within her. “O—oh! You’re so good, you’re so wonderful, Mario. I can’t—I can’t get enough of you.”

Her gorgeous blue eyes shone with tender light. Mario clenched his jaw, feeling the tension spiking. Right at the edge. 

She touched his face. “I love you,” she whispered.

Silence.

The dream stopped.

Mario jolted up from where he’d been sitting on his bedroom floor. He looked around, chest heaving from imaginary exertion. His heart pounded with real desire. 

Glancing down, he realized his arousal was real, too.

“Ahi,” he smacked his forehead. What was he doing? Letting his mind wander in such an indecent direction? He flushed with hot shame, muttering angrily to himself about getting so carried away. He had been so good about not letting himself indulge in those thoughts. He couldn’t think of the Princess that way. It was improper, offensive, downright awful of him.

He paced nervously. Maybe he had time for a cold shower, no, a freezing shower, to get rid of his little problem. Get all those dangerous thoughts out of his head.

Glancing to the window, he realized the skies were dark. The moon was already high in the sky. How long had he been sitting there, entertaining those dirty thoughts? The Princess must have been waiting a long time for him to show up!

Shaking his head, trying to clear his mind of those stubborn, fuzzy desires, he adjusted himself in his pants and decided the long walk to the castle would have to be enough. If he couldn’t tamp himself down by then to face her with the dignity she deserved, then he would just jump into the moat. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea. The water would be freezing. If it still didn’t work, he could always just drown himself out of humiliation. That worked, too.

He burst out the door in a rush, grumbling as he marched along the path. Only the moon lit his way.

Just as he was getting close and realizing the moat might actually be the only viable option, he happened to look up, only to freeze.

It was too late. She was up there, and she saw him.

O~o~O

Chapter Text

O~o~O

Her hero had finally arrived. 

He’d rescued her from Bowser once again, but Peach dolefully shifted the way she was standing and had to accept that her hero couldn’t exactly rescue her from her current troubles. 

No, it was selfish of her to even assume he would desire her in such a way. They’d grown close, sure, but not close enough to warrant secret lingerie beneath her robe. Or being distracted by her own fantasies. She tried to lean naturally upon the stone barrier of her balcony and ignore her arousal. This was just their routine. She could be normal about it. She let out a sigh and watched as he made his way to the little platform that would allow him to make his way up to her.

The wall jump up to her balcony was the most treacherous leap Mario had ever taken, unknowingly.

He swept over with ease, and with a curious urgency, came to stand by her. “Good evening, Princess.” he greeted her as he did every night, with the only exception of staying a couple of steps away, his body pointedly facing the rail. He glanced at her for only a moment, before he seemed to avert his eyes right away to admire the nighttime horizon.

Peach tried to smile. “Good evening, Mario.” she responded in a similar tone.

Silence.

Something in the air had shifted. 

Cringing when she was sure Mario couldn’t see her, Peach hoped the way she rested her hands on the stone didn’t seem forced. They normally had something to talk about right away. She always had some comment about the day, or he always had some silly quip to make. They normally stood much closer than this. The wetness between her legs was very distracting, and she tried not to shift noticeably.

She blanched. Was he avoiding her? Was he disgusted by her earlier actions? Oh no. She must have really misread him. Maybe she had only imagined his hesitant acceptance of her kiss before. Maybe he was scared to deny her since she was the literal Princess.

Of course. Dammit. Peach took in a sharp breath and stepped back. She must have taken advantage of him, having forgotten her station. 

How awful of her. And Mario, the poor man, how could he possibly approach the situation? He stood so stiffly there, and she imagined he might be trying so hard to find the right words to delicately broach the subject. But it wasn’t fair to make him bear the burden. She would have to be the one to bring it up and apologize, though the thought gripped her heart with an icy weight. Things were different between them now. But they would be really different the instant one of them managed to say anything.

She clutched her robe tighter around her. She felt so silly for dressing up like they would possibly be intimate tonight when she could hardly manage to bring up a simple kiss. For getting so carried away by a fantasy that left her aching with desire. Her throat felt tight. She could almost cry.

But she had to do the right thing. “Mario, I—”

“Princess, are you—?”

Peach froze at the same time Mario did, and they blinked at each other. He almost mirrored the terror she felt. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”

“My apologies, what were you—?”

Again. Mario put a hand to his forehead, and Peach huddled into her robe, shivering. It wasn’t even that cold. She was just afraid. What if he figured out what she was hiding? They both chuckled, so awkward that it was painful.

“Princess,” Mario began gently, offering a sympathetic look when she didn’t manage to look him in the eye. “Are you okay?”

This was so pathetic. She’d stood before countless summits and conferences, the very fate of her people hanging in the balance without so much as batting an eye. And yet, before the gentlest man she’d ever known, she could hardly keep her voice straight. “I’m fine.” she spoke through a grimace, and tried in vain to calm her pounding heart. Mario only kept his even stare on her, frowning with concern. “I just…I need to, um, you know, about the, uh…Earlier?”

Mario tilted his head. “Yes?” he asked, his eyebrows creased in a way that showed he was not understanding.

Forcing in a deep breath, Peach shut her eyes very tightly for a minute before forcing herself to look at him. Her heart lurched. “Ear—earlier today. Well, it appears that I may have embarked on a peculiar idea without really taking the time to consider the, um, the consequences. It was impulsive, really, and I see that now. So I just wanted to…Wanted to apologize for my actions taken with such haste. I sincerely did not mean to force myself upon you in such a crass manner, and it is my deepest hope that you will forgive me. But—but I understand if it is not something you can so easily look past.” she spoke, breathless. Her hands shook as she clasped them as tightly as she could to her chest. 

She worried for a moment that she might have lost him, speaking so quickly and in such a roundabout manner. But he took a hesitant step closer. 

“You mean the kiss,” he clarified, and Peach had never wanted anything more than to disappear into the floor.

She settled for covering her face with her hands. “Yes.”

Trying to force her breathing to slow down, she didn’t realize he’d moved until she felt a ginger touch on her elbow. She closed her eyes in an attempt to gather herself before she faced him. 

There was a strange look in his eyes. Those pretty, earnest eyes. He fixed right on her, just as intense as before; the moment after she had kissed him. A fire that she knew dwelled inside him. But also with a flash of fear. Not like he was afraid of her, but like he was afraid of himself. 

She lowered her hands. He gave her arm a soft squeeze. “Princess,” he started, and he must have had to steel himself too, because he took a deep breath. She couldn't help but feel as if he looked hurt. “...Why did you kiss me? L—like that ?”

There. The irreversible shift. The push off from the shore, the point of no return. 

Peach wanted to scoff to herself about her fantasy from before. She wanted a way off this shipwreck, a way out of this conversation that would inevitably splinter everything they had become. But it wasn't fair to be anything but direct. Mario kept his stare on her, steady and imploring. Waiting for her answer. 

"I kissed you because I'm…" She couldn't hold under the pressure of his soft gaze. She turned to face the horizon and shivered hard. "Because I'm deeply attracted to you."

Need she say more? Should she explain how she dreamed of him, how she adored him? She had thought her kiss was clear enough. Her breath caught. Of course. Mario was from an entirely different world. Perhaps a kiss like that signified something entirely different! What if it was totally benign or meaningless? Had she over estimated how affected he seemed? What if it meant something hostile?

Something had flashed in his face, when she found the nerve to glance at him. Almost like he was remembering something. His cheeks became rosy. "Princess…" he breathed.

She couldn't bear it. She whirled around, turning her back to him. Blind to the horizon. Blind to the world except for the man who stood behind her. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have, it was very inappropriate of me and culturally insensitive. I should have considered that it wouldn't translate and I—"

"Princess," he said again, interrupting her tirade before she could spiral any further. She halted her faltering speech and blinked. He never interrupted her. Two gentle hands rested on her arms. A delicate grasp. His touch set her nerves alight, the heat chasing away the chill of her fear with greater spike. "...Please look at me."

With a tight, gasping breath, Peach tried to gather herself before she turned to face him.

He held her arms again once she looked at him. His touch shifted and he drew both her hands into his, as if to soothe her shaking. His thumbs rubbed over her knuckles. 

He was quiet at first. A pensive, yet softened look in his eyes. Peach's heart beat so hard through his silence that she thought he might hear it, too.

"I thought that I—that I misunderstood. It was, ehm, very surprising," he admitted, with a faint smile, cheeks still flushed with color. "But I am very attracted to you, also."

Peach froze. 

So she hadn't imagined their growing closeness over time. All those nights standing together on her balcony had meant the same to him as they did to her after all. All those cakes, all those excuses she conjured to invite him for tea, all those conversations and lingering hugs. Dancing in circles around one another like this. A foolishly unspoken, squandered love that was reciprocated after all despite her worries.

How funny that she only managed to remember all of those positive hints just now, after he confirmed it for her.

"Oh," she gasped out, delayed. "Oh my. How silly of us." 

A grin snuck up on her before she realized it. How could they be so clueless? Her frantic tension from before dissolved abruptly into stifled, nervous giggling, and then into laughter.

She clutched at him, and he held her back. He started laughing, too. She delighted in the feeling of his hands on her waist. "Yes," he agreed, and they laughed like idiots who didn't even realize they liked each other.

Still, her senses buzzed with fear, her body not quite caught up with her mind. Maybe it had been too soon to entirely give up on her choice of clothing for the night.

“I was hoping that you…” she tried to collect herself, and realized Mario was already watching her. She couldn’t remember the last time her voice was so shaky. The physical contact only agitated her more, though she wasn’t sure if that was fear or delight. “I was hoping that you would come tonight. More specifically, I was hoping that you would want to, maybe, um, return my…my kiss from before?”

Mario’s eyes went wide. His grasp on her arms never relented, yet still she felt fear surge through her from his hesitation. Was that too forward? Was she pushing too much to go too fast? 

Only, an entirely different tension wound up within her when a different look set in. He always had such a gentle gaze in those big blue eyes, but just then she found a hint of a spark. A light from within. Crackling to life, revealing a deep intent upon her that made her feel as if she was the only woman in the whole world. She realized with a rush of heat that she quite enjoyed it when he looked at her like that.

“Yes,” he said, softly. “I would.”

The entire earth seemed to fall in a soothing silence despite the heat she felt welling up inside. His hands on her waist invited her closer, and she stepped into his pull, heart pounding. 

He blinked and visibly swallowed when she bent slightly at the waist, forcing them closer, but that earnest intent only deepened when her hands slid from his shoulders to rest on his chest. His eyes flitted between hers, taking her in. He held her a little tighter. She gave a nervous, expectant smile as her heart thrummed up in her throat. 

The heat brewing inside of her only sharpened when he lifted his chin. She could feel the way his breath stuttered, their lips an inch apart. One hand drew up to gingerly cup her face. She let out a shuddering sigh and closed her eyes.

He tilted his head and kissed her. A tender purpose. His mouth was hot. His mustache was a texture that pleasantly startled her senses. His hand cradled her jaw without pulling her closer, and his grasp on her waist was firm but not forceful. He only responded to how close she wanted to be. His thumb stroked her cheek. And she wanted more. 

She gripped his shirt. Mario drew back just slightly. “Is okay, Princess?” he started to ask, only to let out a small sound when she chased him and pressed her lips to his again. Her bold kiss caused him to have to take a step back, and he must have finally understood what she wanted because he drew her close. The small of her back, sliding around to her neck. He pulled her into a fiercer kiss. Slow but intense. She could practically feel his heartbeat from how closely they pressed together. Still, it wasn’t enough.

“Call me Peach,” she murmured against his lips, before she yanked him closer by his overall straps. He gave a startled noise that melted into something lower, deep in his throat. Hands settling around her into a steady embrace. She couldn’t stop. Every kiss, every shift, every sensation from his mouth and body were like the air she needed to breathe. Her hands wandered across his chest, his shoulders.

Her heart pounded, a starved thrill inside that seemed to take him by surprise. Such new, wonderful sensations. She’d never known what it was to kiss someone. To feel such secure arms holding her close.

To feel desired. She pressed closer and closer, and he let her. Only for her to feel a hardness between them.

Mario broke the kiss as soon as she realized what it was, retreating from her space just enough to breathe. “I—I’m so sorry,” he said, looking down at the tile. A mortified fear in his averted eyes. His cheeks colored with shame. “I didn’t mean—"

She pressed a finger to his lips, and he stopped. “It’s okay,” she said, and she realized both of them were breathing hard. Faces flushed, lips a little swollen. Despite his apparent horror, she couldn’t help but find him terribly endearing; trying to shield her from his own anatomical functions. “It’s okay, I know that it, um. That it can happen for no reason. Or from very little.” she gave a shy smile.

If only he knew what he was doing to her, the pressure between her legs. She wasn’t sure how to tell him that she didn’t mind in the least. Actually, it was rather exciting. But seeing him clam up activated her own uncertainty. With a cold jab of guilt, she tried to subtly adjust her robe without lifting her hands off of him. She felt a guilty relief that her own anatomy wouldn’t give her away in quite the same way.

Mario’s hand still rested on her waist, a careful touch. With his other hand, he went to brush over his upper lip as if conscious of his mustache. She’d often see him do that when he was anxious. He shook his head slowly to answer her. Peach frowned, and he quickly spoke up. “I mean—yes, you are right. But this is…it is…Ahi,” he sighed and bowed his head for a moment before fixing on her again with an abashed look. “The—the reason. Is because of you. Because of how, ah, strong I, ehm. I feel about you.”

Oh. Peach felt a renewed heat rush through her body, straight down to her core. That burning haze in his eyes. He was trying to withhold his own arousal for her sake. His earnest admission that she caused him to react in such a way had her hands itching for him again. 

“I can go,” he said, before she could respond. His blush deepened, and he struggled to keep his eyes on her. Trying to speak with total clarity. “I—I like this. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. You can tell me if you don’t like this and I will stop.” His hand remained on her waist with respectful placement, she realized. Never wandering, simply affectionate. She vividly remembered her dream. How he had offered her the choice there, too. Making known he would stop as soon as she asked him to. 

He seemed to recognize something in her eyes, her face, and some of the tension left his shoulders. Could he see how she burned for him? How her entire body wanted to burn for him? 

She reached to smooth his collar. He shivered under her touch. “We can stop if you want to. But you don’t have to go; I like this, too.” she spoke, her voice coming out husky and soft as she slowly reached out to press her hands flush against his chest again. Reveling in his solid body. He blinked. “I also feel strongly; you just can’t tell.” she added with a cheeky little smile. 

His grasp on her waist trembled and his eyes darkened when he realized what she meant. His other hand drew up to trace her jaw. She leaned forward and kissed him again.

“Ahi, Peach,” he groaned into her, and a spark of delight ran through her veins. Her arousal grew hotter. She’d never heard him say her name like that before. She pressed closer, delighting in his hardness and the way his hands gripped her tighter on reflex. 

Sailing past the point of no return with gleeful triumph, diving into the unknown without an ounce of hesitation. She pulled back just an inch, hands wandering across his scalp, to look at him. Such a hungry stare in those pretty blue eyes. She felt an undeniable pulse of wet heat between her legs from just his expression. So devoted and attentive. “Would you come inside? I quite enjoy kissing you, I’d like to continue somewhere more comfortable.” her shaky voice gave away how eager she was for his answer.

He’d hardly managed to huff out a definite “yes,” before she beamed and kissed him again and again, grasping his overall straps and gently leading him into her room.

Not exactly like her dream. She let out a shaky, unintentional moan when he gripped her hips as they stumbled into her bedroom. He only held her tighter at the sound. She wasn’t even sure how far this would go, if kissing on her bed would be the extent of their exploration. Not that she would complain. No, it wasn’t quite like her fantasy. But as her hands wandered over his back and arms, up along his neck and scalp, she decided she liked the real thing better.

She couldn’t see. She didn’t want to see where she was going. Her hip bumped into a chair, and they nearly collided with her tea table. But with an awkward laugh, a shared smile, and a muttered apology, Mario was on her again. Steering them in the right direction as he kissed her with more fervor.

The bed. The back of her knees hit her mattress. She sat right away, bringing herself closer to Mario’s height and pulling him so close with such zeal that she accidentally unbuttoned one of his overall straps. He chuckled, taking the hint and pressing closer to her between her knees. He was so solid and real beneath her touch. She could feel all of him, not just moments of a fleeting, imagined sense like her dream had been. And he was so much warmer than she imagined. His hands wandered up and down her waist, down to her hips, her thighs, and back up. She almost couldn’t concentrate on kissing him when he squeezed her hips, her senses tuned to her hot, wet arousal pulsing between her legs.

But Mario retracted just slightly. Not abandoning her; his face remained close to hers, and they took a moment to breathe together. His hands rested with light pressure on her waist. Hers continued to seek more, closer contact, until she caught up and realized they were slowing down.

How could he possibly look at her with such concern in his eyes at a time like this? Wasn’t he just as affected, just as eager to keep going? She wondered what it would be like to run her hand over his crotch and feel how hard he was. But she let her hands rest on his shoulders, restless as they teased the ends of his hair. 

He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. Standing before her bed, both of them breathing hard from their venture. “Is this…Okay?” he asked, his voice low and quiet as if they were coming upon something precious and easily disturbed if he were too loud. His expression was suddenly wary. 

She shifted the way she was sitting, seeking a little bit of friction. Perhaps he really had no idea what a delight it was for him to be so close to her. He needed something. Her assurance, her consent. But it was something deeper than that, too. He was looking out for her comfort, but something about his manner was so self-conscious. In the moment, he might forget himself, but then he’d come to a sudden awareness and fear like she saw right then. 

Just before she could open her mouth to try and ask what was wrong, he swallowed hard and lowered his head. Standing there at the edge of her grand bed that had more than enough room for the two of them if that was something he wanted to do. “I—I’m sorry. I don’t know that…I mean where…” he paused with a stern glare at the sheets. There was something unreasonably hot about his frustration. He pursed his lips and looked right at her, and Peach could feel her body physically melting just from the look in his eyes. “I don’t know what happens if I keep going. I will stop if you—if you want me to. But…” he trailed off, searching for words, distracted for a moment when she shifted her body a little closer.

He was concerned about how far they would go. She played with his hair, running her fingers through it, and tried to think about what she could say that would help him see that what they were doing was more than okay. It was almost like he forgot she was also kissing him. She had literally invited him into her room. Feeling a little cheeky, she couldn’t help but grin. “And what if I don’t want you to stop?” she asked innocently. “Can I ask you to keep going?”

The way his entire expression sharpened in response, his hands gripping her a little harder, made her gasp out with pleasure. Maybe he needed consistent verbal validation. She would try it. He started forward, as if he were going to kiss her, only to stop less than an inch away. Her body shuddered, and he felt it. “You tell me. If you want to stop. Please.” he managed to let out, before she couldn’t take it and kissed him again.

He groaned into her as she pulled him so close that he was forced to lean into the bed. She continued to pull, encouraging him to follow her as she shifted further back into the mattress. There was something slightly feral in his eyes as he climbed up over her, and that blistering mouth of his suddenly pressed into her neck. 

“Oh!” she let out, chest heaving as he kissed her all along her jaw and throat. It was foreign and it was perfect to be kissed. For his mouth to wander such a sensitive part of her body. She held him close, gripping his shirt, trying to find words through the wonderful attention he was giving her. “Oh, Mario, that’s so good. I’ve never—! Ah, stars, I’ve never felt like this. I didn’t know a kiss there felt like that , and I don’t want you to stop…”

Mario rested his weight in one arm while his other hand traced over her waist. “You’ve never…never done this?” he asked, in between blazing kisses down to her clavicle. Her underwear must be soaking. Her hips squirmed. “Never kissed? Like this?”

There was a teasing lilt to his tone, but mostly genuine curiosity. And maybe a little concern. Peach giggled at a sudden kiss between her shoulder and neck. “N—no. Not many humans in the…the Mushroom Kingdom,” she admitted. Not much opportunity for experimentation as Princess, either. Only her studies on human anatomy, a personal collection of fictitious works on human sexuality, and her own exploration of her body. She was knowledgeable, at least she thought. Just not practiced. And honestly, she had never been very interested until she had met Mario.

With an understanding hum, before she could become bashful, he shifted until his mouth pressed into her neck again. His hot breath had her stirring. “Can I try something?” he asked. “I will be gentle. But if it hurts, please tell me.”

Peach took in a sharp breath, pleased by his boldness. “Yes,” she said, holding onto his firm shoulders.

A soft suction. Peach gasped, her hips giving a surprised jolt at the new sensation. His other hand traced absentmindedly along her ribs, hindered by her thick robe. Beneath him, she quivered and sighed while he delicately sucked on an insanely sensitive spot on her neck. The sparks of pleasure inside rushed straight down. 

“Hickey,” she realized abruptly what he was doing, the name coming to her. “Yes, you’re giving me a hickey.”

He stopped with one more tiny kiss on the same spot, and she felt him smile. His mustache tickled in the most wonderful way. “A small one.” he pulled away slightly to look at her neck, she supposed, to check for a bruise. He reached up to pass his thumb over the spot as if to soothe it. 

There was no pain. She wondered if it left a mark. If a dark blemish bloomed from under her skin, a soft spot of color displaying clearly where his mouth had been. Implying where his mouth would go. The notion of a visible mark on her where people might notice, and for her to know it was him who did this to her caused her body to flush with an unexpected wave of arousal. She liked that. She liked when he marked her.

She wondered if he liked it too, though with the way his eyes and hands traced over her neck, she imagined he was pleased. 

A brazen impulse rose up within her. “Can I try?” she asked, her voice unintentionally low and breathless. “Can I mark you?”

The wording must have resonated with him in a similar way to how she felt. Mario’s eyes flashed up to look at her, a startled smile lighting up his face. “If you want,” he said, his voice a little hoarse.

Grinning, Peach, ran her hands up his shoulders and around his back. She watched his breath stutter as she did, and marveled that she could affect him so. His eyes slid closed. She took a moment, just observing him braced over her in her soft moonlit bedroom. The faint silver light drew out his dimples and the hard muscles in his shoulders. She imagined taking off his shirt to properly see his body under the cool, gentle glow.

Shifting up, she pressed her face closer to him. Her hand drew up along his neck, fingernails along his skin, before she grasped his hair.

Mario’s soft gasp startled her. She relented a bit, watching him with wary eyes. “Did I hurt you?”

Shaking his head, Mario seemed to melt beneath her hands, smiling all the while. A bashful look. “I like that,” he admitted softly, 

Oh. Biting her lip, Peach let her hands slide back up to grip his hair again, and delighted in the way his body moved and shifted against her. The groan that left his throat. His hardness between them made her own hips shift with want. 

She leaned in again, breathing against his neck. The warmth of his skin emanated to her from inches away. His Firebrand. From so close, she could smell him; the way his natural scent combined with his cologne. Lavender and something woody underneath, such a soft fragrance that took on an almost smoky characteristic with his superheated body. She closed her eyes and reveled in his proximity as she pressed closer. Her lips grazed his skin.

The soft skin of his throat, so vulnerable and so hot beneath her mouth, had her dizzy with the intimacy. She breathed him in, her body shuddering beneath him despite his heat, and pressed up close.

She opened her mouth and tested the motion, starting with the most delicate suction. She could taste him, could feel and smell him all around her. His hips shifted, pressing his hardness against hers with a comfortable weight. It was such a relief and such a torture for him to be so achingly close to her. She wanted him to be closer.

She sucked a little harder, and at the same time she gripped his hair at the back of his head and wrapped her other arm around his shoulders. The affected grunt that left his throat had Peach shifting on the bed. He melted at her touch, forced to rest further on her. 

“Peach,” he let out softly, and she recognized the haze in his voice that told her he appreciated her ministrations. She sucked harder. Her nails dug a little into his shoulder. He squirmed, and she wanted to make him squirm more than she had ever wanted anything before. His hardness shifted against hers, desperate and hot. The feral desire to remove the layers between them so she could feel just how hard and how hot he was surprised Peach so much that she smiled and had to pull back from his neck a little.

She dotted a more gentle kiss on his neck, as he had done for her, and then blinked at the deep purple mark she had left. “Oh,” she murmured, a shadow of worry in her mind. Had she hurt him?

Mario glanced down at her as she traced her finger over the mark. “Hmm?”

Blushing, Peach gave him an apologetic look. “It's a little dark…” The excitement she felt at the idea of marking him up must have gotten her a little carried away. A bright bruise placed so high on his throat wouldn't be so easy to hide. “...I'm sorry, I—”

“No, it's okay,” he breathed, turning to smother her apology with a kiss. Agitated and eager, pressing into her a little harder than before. “I like it.”

Peach gasped in delight and kissed him back, her hands winding around him, caught between wanting to see what she could make him do if she pulled his hair again and how close she could hold him to her. The desire to feel him closer won out, and she reached across his back and down until she found the hem of his shirt. Her finger grazed against his hot skin. 

He chuckled with a sheepish look, understanding what she wanted, and gave her another soft kiss to her neck before raising up a little off of her. The sudden lack of heat startled her. Without him, even despite her perfectly temperate room, she felt cold. The open strap of his overalls outlined the shape of his chest through his shirt to her, and he looked away down to the sheets.

“We can go slow,” he said, lifting one hand to unbutton the other strap with a swift motion. The denim fell, and he reached to pull up at his shirt. “This is new to you. And I want you to feel good.” He shrugged out of his shirt, oblivious to Peach drinking in the sight of his torso being revealed to her for the first time.

She leaned forward, reaching out to trace his shoulder before he had even finished pulling the shirt off his arm. “New, but not strange.” She gave a cheeky smile.

Raising his eyebrows, Mario paused before he could back off the bed to finish taking off his overalls. “What do you mean?”

Peach sat up a little and grinned. “I understand the, ah, mechanics, I suppose. And the intention of the act. I've also spent time learning, just, you know.” She blushed, and combed her hair from her face. “Just by myself.”

The bed shifted as Mario eased off. He nodded with a private smile, as if her admission gave him some interesting thoughts. She wondered if he imagined what she might do by herself, and hoped she had not gotten it wrong this whole time. She hoped her understanding of sexuality was adequate for him. He seemed to have more experience and knowledge, which was at once a relief and a slight source of pressure if she paid any mind to the insecurities at the back of her mind. She was ready to follow his guidance, but was also wary that her lack of experience might be unsatisfying for him. Her legs shifted, and her robe suddenly seemed like a welcome layer even as she watched him undress with eager eyes.

“To be honest, I, ehm. I did not think you could be attracted to me. The way that I am to you.” He spoke, looking at the floor as he stepped out of his overalls. This was a very funny thing to say as she was making no effort to hide how she stared at his body. The planes and shapes of his muscles, the cool light streaming down on him with soft glow. “Besides how you are so extraordinary and beautiful, I, ah…I was not sure if you are even attracted to humans. I thought you might be attracted to mushrooms, or—or something.”

He looked up suddenly when she didn’t answer, immediate regret on his face.

While the sight of him in nothing but his underclothes was positively delightful and distracting, Peach found herself stifling laughter, even as Mario held up his hands. “I did not mean that in a bad way! I’m sorry, I—”

“No, no!” Peach finally burst into laughter, covering her mouth. She couldn’t stop it. It was quite unladylike and probably not very sexy for her to laugh so hard, but the idea of Mario presuming her sexuality in such a way was positively hysterical. Mushroom people were adorable but completely incompatible with her anyway, not to mention asexual. Mario didn’t know that, though. And it was actually quite sweet for him to respect her hypothetical preferences so much that he wouldn’t even question it if that were the case, nor interfere with his feelings. “You thought I might get myself off on mushrooms—!” the words came out very undignified, and she covered her face as her body rocked with laughter.

Mario watched her with a smile, the amusement getting to him as he watched her. She managed to notice a peculiar light in his eyes. Sparked and interested by her uncontrollable mirth. “It was a silly thought,” he amended, not sounding as apologetic now that he understood her. 

She giggled and sputtered with laughter, even as he drew closer and reached out for her shoulders. His warm hands distracted her. She began to calm down a little, peeking up at him and certain that she was blushing in a decidedly undignified way. Finally, the heat of his proximity and the sight of his bare chest so close to her snapped her out of it and she was able to breathe again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh at you.” she wiped a tear from her eyes, still grinning so hard that it hurt.

When she met his eyes, she realized he stared with awe at her. “Not at all. It was funny,” he said, still smiling, too. “I like how you laugh.”

His hand traced along her shoulder and down her back. Peach found herself blushing for a new reason as his touch sent new sparks of warmth to her core. His presence and closeness was so familiar, and yet so new now. Comfortable, yet exhilarating. She was so distracted that she nearly forgot that he was already nearly bare, and yet she was still fully covered.

“Where are my manners?” she murmured, as she met his eyes and became caught under his spell. He must have been under the same spell, instinctually moving closer until their lips were an inch apart. She leaned over to just barely peck his mouth, just as she shrugged her robe off her shoulders. Mario’s eyes automatically flickered to the skin she exposed. She grinned.

She reached forward to grasp his wrist, which she guided to the waistband of her robe. One by one, she closed his fingers around the plush ribbon. Mario’s face warmed. He couldn't take his eyes off of the falling collar of her robe, where the deep V hinted at the rest of her body.

With a gentle push, she prompted him to pull. He did, achingly slow, the tension dragging out until the bow came undone at her waist.

Her robe fell open, exposing the deep purple lingerie she had chosen to wear, hoping but not knowing he would actually see it. Mario visibly swallowed and stared. His attention only made her arousal ache more. His eyes traced over the lacy, shiny fabric, along with her pale skin.

Mario almost had to clear his throat. “Is this what you normally wear to sleep?” he asked, and she recognized the slight tease in his tone. 

Shaking her head, Peach shifted out of the rest of the robe, finally revealing most of her body to him. “No,” she gave a demure smile, and combed her hair back with a hand. “I wore it for you. Do you like it?”

She watched his face as he processed the length of her admission. That she had dressed in such a way for him before he had ever arrived, before they had even approached clarifying their feelings for each other. That she had him in her mind in such an unseemingly, licentious way as to actively dress for her thoughts even if they were no more than fantasy. His eyes wandered all over her body. The heat between her legs grew as his eyes focused so intently on her. 

Stepping closer, as if drawn by a force outside of himself, Mario drew his knee up to climb back onto the mattress with her. The hickey on his neck had blossomed into a deeper color. “I like it,” he breathed. That feral haze in his eyes darkened. “You were waiting for this, like me…”

He reached out and touched her face. His palm hot against her cool skin. She shivered and smiled. He cupped her cheek, before his fingers trailed down her neck. Across her clavicle. The deep, still night had softened the world to their senses, isolating them in this perfect sanctuary of their own making. Peach observed her own body's reactions to being so bare, so close to Mario's exposed body with a brief clinical interest. How quickly she had adapted, how eager she was to be this close to him despite never baring herself to anyone before. This truly was a natural sort of order, that two people could belong together and explore one another so easily. That another’s presence alone could be so simultaneously soothing and exciting.

Mario's hand drifted along the lace hem of her bra, tracing the shape, and Peach returned to the moment with a coy smile. She guided his hand to cover her breast. 

Their eyes locked, and Peach saw in the way his jaw set and his gaze focused on her that she had never merely imagined the devotion she had seen in him before. So fiercely gentle and openly earnest. She knew that she wanted to explore this connection they were creating to all of its ends.

“Mario,” she whispered, and he kissed her.

She moaned into his mouth as he eased her down on the mattress, squeezing her breast and exploring with his hands. Her body moved in response to him, shifting and twisting to bring him closer. His bare chest, skin dizzyingly hot, pressed into her and she gasped. 

Not even allowing him a moment to pause and ask if she was okay, Peach whipped her arms up and over his shoulders to yank him closer. He grunted, a lovely sound that sent sparks down deep in her core. His hand explored the strap of her bra. Fingers teasing underneath the lacy cup. She locked her knees around his waist, forcing him to rest some of his weight on her, which she relished. 

So surrounded with him. She could breathe him in forever, taste his mouth and feel his hot skin against hers without ever dreaming of wanting to end their connection. 

His hand finally wandered under her bra, grasping at her and just brushing her nipple. 

Peach’s hips jolted. She could feel his desire, stiff and hot as she did. “You can take it off,” she whispered, taking her mouth off him for a moment just to get the words out before she sank back in, pressing her lips to the side of his throat.

Mario groaned and fumbled with the strap of her bra, reaching to find the front clasp. He hissed as she got the impulse to nip at him. Teeth applying gentle pressure to his throat. He liked it; she felt him press deeper into her, his arousal meeting hers through their clothes. His length was already so hot; she could barely imagine how it might feel when they got around to taking everything off… She bit her lip and let out a soft sound just as he managed to undo the clasp.

Footsteps.

Mario froze, his eyes and hands zeroed in on her breasts exposed in the moonlight. She ached for him to touch her, desperate and wet beneath her panties.

They didn’t even dare to breathe. Peach looked at the door. Shuffling outside, a tiny gait with the hint of a limp. The thump of a cane. “Princess Peach, my dear?” a voice called, weary with sleep from the hall. “Are you still awake at this hour?”

She was sure Mario was a mirror to her own mortification.

They both jumped when a knocking resounded throughout the room. Peach gestured wildly for Mario to hide under the bed and stumbled out onto the floor, whipping around for her robe. “Just a moment!” she called, shoving her arms in the sleeves and tying the waistband in a knot. She didn’t even bother trying to clasp her bra again with her thick robe around her, and just crossed her arms tightly as she bounded across her great room, nearly clipping the corner of her entryway with her shoulder before the knob twisted and the door pushed open.

“Toadsworth!” she greeted breathlessly, combing a lock of hair back and hoping there was nothing to see behind her, or that at least she was standing in the way. “I—it is quite late, yes. Did I wake you?”

The old Toad smiled at the sight of her and hobbled a little further in her room. “Not at all, I just happened to be returning from my study; it seems I had fallen asleep on my chair again. I thought I heard your voice. I do hope it is not work keeping you up so, you need your rest.” he chuckled, and then squinted up at her. “Forgive me, but you do seem rather… frazzled, if I do say. You’re flushed. Dear, are you feeling alright?”

Blinking, Peach swallowed hard and combed the same hair back, realizing she probably looked a little more than frazzled. “No, it’s nothing! Just—just a nightmare,” she laughed nervously.

Adjusting his glasses, Toadsworth stared up at her with such sympathy that Peach almost had to close her eyes to avoid the guilt at lying to her concerned guardian. “Truly? Oh, you poor thing. Here, shall I make you a pot of tea to soothe your nerves? It must be the recent kidnapping. That dreadful Bowser! Terrorizing you to no end!” his voice rose with his indignance. Peach tried to put up her hands to calm him down before he got going on his tirade. “I should very much like to put that rotten beast in his place. Thank the stars above for Master Mario’s arrival to our Kingdom to do just that.”

Peach waved her hands and risked a glance over her shoulder to make sure Master Mario was not in view. “Yes of course…I am so very grateful for Mario. It is because of him that I can sleep well at all. But I assure you I am quite tired now and certain that I won’t have another nightmare. Really, I’m alright. Thank you for your concern, but you don’t have to trouble yourself; you should be off to bed as well.”

The cane thumped into the floor. Toadsworth sank out of his rant, and sighed. “I see. It would be no trouble at all, though I do believe your rest is paramount. Please get some sleep.” he started to turn around to head out the door. “That Mario, he is quite spectacular. I can sense that he is very special to you. Very special indeed.”

Smiling, Peach imagined what Toadsworth would say if he knew the very man was so special in fact that he was half naked under her bed. Not naked enough as far as she was concerned at the moment, but that was a sight she wanted for herself and didn’t particularly want to share with her advisor. “He is,” she started to sigh, before the cane went waving again.

“That man, I do say he is rather protective of you. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear if he might get so much as a bad feeling about your safety in the middle of the night and feel the need to run straight here to protect you, to hell with all propriety, even if the threat was baseless.” Toadworth mused, and Peach pursed her lips. Just what was he on about? “And I would believe that he genuinely feared for your safety. He’s just that sort of man, to do whatever is right even when you might have to charge through a few rules here and there.”

Peach blinked. Toadsworth continued to hobble out of her room as if he hadn’t said anything strange at all. “Ah,” she let out vaguely.

He turned and gave her a crinkly smile, his eyes glimmered in the low light. “Sleep well, Peach dear.”

“Good—goodnight,” she called after him, just as the door closed.

She slumped against the wall once he had made enough headway down the hall. Breathing out a sigh, she looked down and shook her head. Some luck being interrupted at a time like this. They must have been making enough of a commotion to be heard down the hall if even poor Toadsworth and his unreliable hearing picked up on it. Hopefully none of the other staff had heard. Or even if anyone did, hopefully no one would be able to deduce what exactly she might be doing. Or who. With a sly smile, she reached over to lock her door. No more visitors.

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Mario ease up from underneath the bed. He met her eyes with a guilty smile. His skin was so deliciously exposed in the pale light. Even beneath her robe, she shivered without his heat.

Crossing the room languidly, she realized he searched the end of her bed through the mess of her sheets draped every which way on account of the business they had started. He had just found his shirt and started to gather up his overalls.

“You didn’t think the night was over, did you?” she whispered, touching his arm. She hardly recognized the husky, dark tone of her own voice.

His gaze automatically sharpened under her touch. His eyes traced the collar of her robe, where a sliver of her skin peeked through. “Was not sure if you wanted to…” he murmured, only meeting her eyes for a moment when she started to shrug off her robe again.

The robe fell in delicate ripples to the floor, and her bra followed. Mario swallowed hard and stared with such devoted intent, eyes following every dip and curve to where she could imagine it was his hands wandering her body instead. He managed to drag his gaze back up to her face and she smiled. His neck had a dark bruise where her mouth had been.

“Show me,” she moved until she was in his space, his eyes level with her chest, until she got goosebumps feeling his heat compared to the cool night air. “Show me how to be with you. I’ve dreamt of it so many times, but I want to know the real thing.”

Her hand teased at the waistband of his boxers. Wandering, wandering until her fingers grazed his arousal. 

“Peach,” he groaned, and his hands were on her. 

Scalding, wonderful touches. One hand dragged up her spine, the other reached up and trailed down her neck to her breast. He squeezed the tender flesh, his grasp firm and secure as he brought her closer. “Oh,” she gasped as he stroked her. His mouth worked to press soft kisses along the side of her other breast, before his tongue went to work on her nipple. “That—that feels…Oh, Mario, I can’t…Please…”

He reached around to squeeze her rear, which was a delightful but startling sensation that pushed her further into him. She muttered her praises as her knees started to go weak. Her fingers curled into his hair, which only made his kisses and touches more vigorous.

Before she could blink, he ducked and swept her up in his arms like a bride. 

Her back fell gently against the mattress. He supported the back of her head with his hand while he rifled around above her, but before she could look up to ask, Mario slid a pillow down for her before easing her onto it. Peach found herself blushing at his thoughtfulness, as if she wasn't nearly completely exposed beneath him. Mario braced himself above her like they were before, and Peach smiled as he smothered her body in kisses and nips and swipes of his tongue. He worked his way down, lavishing her nipples until she was gasping before moving along her hips. 

“I want to taste you,” he muttered into her, dotting wet, sweet kisses lower and lower down. 

She knew his destination; she had dreamed of what it could feel like, but nothing could prepare her for the sensation of his hot breath between her thighs. So real and intense that she squirmed before he had even touched her. Blinking through the haze, Peach found him looking up at her with an eager light. He wanted permission. His thumb stroked her hip and Peach nodded.

The way his face lit up, she assumed he meant to go down on her for his own pleasure. Maybe she was right. He settled between her legs in an excited rush, hands roving all over her hips before he reached to carefully spread her knees. He did this all with ease, like preparing himself for a reward, and Peach struggled to hold still. Her body moved unconsciously. She tried to keep herself steady, hips shifting with desperate want that she hardly recognized. But she didn’t want him to mistake her erratic movements for reluctance or resistance, because it almost seemed that way to her. Nor did she want to give in to her impulses and jolt into him; it might hurt him. So she tried to control it.

Her solo explorations never brought her to this feeling. She gasped, watching herself twitch as Mario’s mouth was only inches from her.

His eyes fell on her again. “It’s okay,” he gave her hips a reassuring squeeze. That such a motion was allowed now was such bliss. “You don’t have to fight it. I like how you move. It tells me that you like this.”

Peach gasped and laughed out the tension she had been holding back. It was like he knew what she was thinking. His eyes shone with hunger and want, and she watched him there, flat on his stomach on her grand bed like he belonged there. Nothing in the world was more important than the proximity of his mouth to her. “I—I’ve never felt like this,” she admitted breathlessly. She felt like a wild, restless thing that he was trying to contain in his arms. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

His eyes darkened and a daring smile spread across his face. “You won’t hurt me. I can handle it.” he promised, and she realized he wanted her to be wild and restless. Certainty was so sexy on him.

“Oh,” she let out, and her head fell back onto the bed as he pressed a kiss to her through her underwear. “Oh!”

He mouthed at her, kissing up and down her slit, the sound of his breath muffled by the purple fabric. She had been wet for him before he had even arrived, surely he could tell now. She jolted and twisted, gasping out. His hands gripped and wandered, steadying her when she bucked into him and bringing her closer when she shrank back from the intensity of his mouth. 

His thumb teased under the band of her underwear. She dimly considered the lingerie; through the haze, her lonely daydream. Her secret plan hiding beneath a robe. She never imagined it would end up coming off before him so soon.

“Off,” she agreed with him, her hand sliding down her waist to meet his. He grinned and sat up to peel off her underwear. 

And her unintentional master plan disappeared somewhere in the void of her bedroom, which was infinitely less important to her than the ravenous way he looked at her. 

Mario eased her legs apart again. His weight secured her to the bed and grounded her sense of being as her hips shifted under his scrutiny. Her breath caught in her throat as his hot breath puffed against her core. Slick and dripping with her arousal. Mario groaned at the sight, affected just as she was as he dipped to press soft kisses to the inside of her thighs.

“Please,” she murmured, and Mario's scalding mouth met with her lips.

Her entire body seized and bucked under him. The sound that tore from her throat was not one she had ever heard herself make. Mario gripped her tighter, handling her just as he had promised, and his eyes flickered up to meet hers as his tongue circled and dipped into her. 

Her hands couldn't figure out what to do; she went to cover her mouth, or grip his hair, or twist up in the sheets. His tongue began soft passes over her clit. Hot and wandering. Gradually letting on more pressure. 

She throbbed, her arousal seeping out of her in waves of pleasure. Mario lapped it up. Fervent, broad licks. He pressed his tongue flat against her and dragged up, slowly, which had her whining with urgency. Then he returned to a rhythm. Soft strokes up her dripping slit. He focused on her clit, circling and alternating with heavy kisses. She had never felt so much pressure concentrated there before. Her soft pink lips shining in the dim light. She raised her head and faintly saw a glimpse of her swollen clit before it disappeared under his ruthless tongue again and again.

He was relentless. Even as she nearly writhed under him. He kept her steady, kept his mouth working at her, and she felt her focus begin to consolidate. Lower and lower. A coiling deep within her, winding tighter than she knew she could go. She tossed her head back. The center of the universe was the splintering point where he closed his lips around her and sucked on her clit. 

“M—Mario—!” she heard herself say, and her hand found purchase on one of his. He slotted his fingers with hers as he continued with his fiendish mouth. Her hips began trembling completely out of her control. Her entire body vibrated at the mercy of his tongue.

He held her hand. The coil snapped. Peach's orgasm arced through her. Vicious at first. Uncontained, outside of herself. 

Gasping and twitching. He kept his mouth on her. Soft, wet kisses. Featherlight, but she was so sensitive that every touch to her clit struck her like flint. Peach's body moved and he moved with her, soothing, until her core went stirring again. That taut, twisting sensation inside of her wasn't satisfied just yet. She wanted him to ignite her more. 

“I love how you taste,” Mario murmured, and she managed to tilt her head to look down at him. His chin glistening with her. A dazed smile.

She knew there was more to this dance than the ecstasy he was clearly inclined to provide her more of with just his mouth. She knew her body could find completion multiple times, even at once, but she could see the way his hips shifted into the bed. He wrestled with his own strain, and she wanted to know more about his body and the ways he could find pleasure. 

Smiling, she squeezed his hand and tried to pull him up. “May I taste you too?”

Mario blinked, and gave an uncertain smile. “You—You want to?” His body unwittingly reacted, his knee shifting up as if to agree, while his expression remained reluctant. 

“Please?” Peach found some of her energy had returned to her, so she used both her hands to encourage Mario to come up and lay beside her. Before he could respond, she spread her hands across his chest and dragged them down, taking in the sheer heat of his body. She sighed, and grazed over the top of his boxers. The intoxicating intimacy made her shiver. She could just touch him like this, and the way he moved beneath her, he liked it too. “Please let me,” she breathed, leaning down until her mouth grazed his arousal, looking up at him through her lashes. 

He let out a moan, rocking up gently into her chin, and she delighted in his hardness pressing into her lips. “I can't think when you look at me like that,” he choked out with a chuckle. “Yes, please…”

Trailing off, he watched with rapt attention as she slipped her fingers into the elastic of his boxers and began to drag them down, down until he was revealed to her. 

His cock, hard and thick, seemed to exude warmth. She observed the shape of him. Absolutely foreign for her, and yet riveting. This was where he found the culmination of his pleasure, this stiffened length of raw heat. The scent of him was familiar but stronger here. She breathed him in, taking in the soft musk and feeling the most unfamiliar urge to take him in her mouth. She watched a slick drop gather at the very tip.

He helped her get his boxers off before she pressed him slowly back down to the bed, at the same time she dipped down to press a soft kiss to his head. 

“Ahi,” he let out, and his hand reached out. He combed her hair with his fingers, gathering it up before it fell in her face. Holding it out of the way. “This is—this is new to you. It won't hurt my feelings, if you think it's—ahh—too different. You don’t have to—!”

Mario’s voice cut off as she lifted his cock and closed her lips around him. Tasting him in earnest. Superheated and rigid in her mouth. A startled groan left him, and Peach tasted the salty drop as she swirled her tongue around his head. She watched, eager, as his expression contorted with the shock of sudden pleasure. She realized why he liked it when she squirmed and why he seemed as if he could keep going down on her all day with her slick arousal on his lips. His sweet anguish became her sole focus. 

The vague prosaic knowledge she had of how to make him feel good told her to move, though she wasn't quite sure how until she noticed the way his hips wanted to thrust up. They weren't so different after all; she needed repetition and so did he. She smiled and found an easy rhythm sliding up and down. His hand holding her hair twitched as he let out a weak sound. 

Her tongue swept up along his length, exploring at each pass as she gently bobbed her head. Beneath her, Mario gasped and muttered her name. His other hand found hers and grasped her tightly.

He started trembling, and she remembered before she could get too carried away that there was more to try. 

She raised her head again and let his cock, all slick and hot, rest back against him. Mario blinked, breathing hard. It was such a privilege to see him so ruffled. Before he could say anything, Peach pushed herself up and straddled him, biting her lip as she felt the heat of his cock emanating to her very core.

Mario’s hands flew to her hips. His touch so reassuring and secure. “Are you sure?” he breathed, looking up at her like she was made of starlight. That celestial blue glow in his eyes always made her heart so soft. 

In answer, Peach smiled and let herself rest on him.

She moaned and felt herself pulse. He let out a strangled sound at the same time, his fingers digging into her hips. She relished the feeling. His cock felt like a fever to her core. Rocking forward, she gasped out and he helped her move. She was so wet, slipping across him with the contact to her clit like silk. Effortless. 

Grinding into his cock nearly got her off again, and she laughed with the sheer joy of being with him. He smiled up at her. Warm and fond. 

“I wanted to try this for so long,” Peach sighed out, lifting herself and reaching down to grasp his cock. “I dreamed of what it might feel like. I was dreaming right before you visited me…” she faded off, his head at her entrance more scalding than she had imagined. Burning her. She wanted to know what his fire felt like inside of her. Mario gripped her hips harder. 

“I did too. I thought about you in my dreams, like this. But this is—this is better,” he rasped, only for his jaw to drop open as she sank down on his cock.

They moaned together, tethering each other as they connected. She glided down on him, so slick that it was easy. The stretch inside her hardly burned for a moment, so relaxed and eager for him. He throbbed within her and she gasped at the sensation. Settling onto his lap, Peach ground into him until he was buried in her as deep as he could go. Reaching a place inside her she had never touched or known before. 

She had to move. Panting, Peach raised herself and lowered back down, again and again, trying to find a rhythm. Mario helped her, raising her hips and thrusting into her. Her thighs burned but she didn’t mind. They were chasing this pleasure together and she wanted to get them both there, navigating this new feeling within her. They made obscene and wet sounds together, skin on skin with his cock sliding easily into her. It turned her on more. 

“M—Mario,” she called for him, and he brought her down for a kiss, not breaking their rhythm even as she struggled for balance over him. She could taste herself on his lips. His hands wandered. One stroked down her back, the other finding her breasts as they bounced with their rhythm. “O—ohh,” she let out against his jaw as he stroked her nipple. 

His gentle touches amplified the pleasure between her legs somehow, dampening everything else. She wanted to find ways to help him shut out the world, too. She kissed down along his jaw to his neck. The dark hickey she’d given him stood out on his skin and she grinned. On the other side of his neck, she nipped him. Not enough to hurt, but enough for him to gasp and thrust up hard into her. She moaned and smiled into him, reaching up to curl her fingers into his hair and pull. He reacted again. Gripping her hips and yanking her down on him at the same time as he thrust up, throwing off their rhythm in delicious desperation.

Pulling away from her face, Mario leaned up to press his mouth to her breasts instead. Tongue laving across her nipples. Peach whimpered as he did. Her entire body began to quiver, struggling to focus on moving with him. He teased and sucked. The extra stimulation of his hot tongue along with his stiff cock pumping in and out of her had her moaning with helpless pleasure.

He sped up his thrusts. Peach tried to keep up with him, but she couldn’t think about anything other than the vicious tension winding deeper and deeper within her. Wrought harder and tighter than she had known was possible. 

Mario suddenly lifted her off his cock completely, shaking and gasping. Peach raised her head in confusion. “Too close,” he told her, his chest heaving. “Are—are you okay? Does it hurt at all?”

Peach found herself almost indignant at the question for a moment before remembering herself. Realizing he had probably gotten closer to finishing than he wanted. She smiled and leaned to nip at his ear as she tried to sink down onto him again. “It feels amazing, I don’t want it to stop.” She ached for him, missing his heat.

Nodding, Mario relaxed. “Good, I’m glad. I want this to feel good for you.” He had such an earnest, gentle look in his eyes as he spoke, even when they were on the edge of something primal together. “Do you want to relax? You can be on your back, so I can do the work.” he offered.

Such a gentleman. Peach found herself giggling. “A different position?”

“Yes,” Mario shifted her around, like she weighed nothing. “I like this one best. If you don’t like it, we can try another.” The world did a slow somersault. He eased her onto her back like she had been when he tasted her, only he leaned forward and let his cock brush against her desperate wet folds again. 

It was like her dream. “I like this one,” she breathed, immediately feeling all tension sink out of her as she lay back on the mattress. He brought another pillow for her to rest her head on. She reached to bring her arms around his shoulders, and her thighs spread to wrap around his waist.

He closed his eyes and let out what sounded like a soft curse, bracing his arms on either side of her head. “I want to be inside you,” he lowered his head to whisper fiercely into her neck as his cock teased at her slit. Scathing and molten. “You feel so good, so perfect and warm around me…”

Peach tangled her fingers into his hair. “I want you to be inside me,” she answered, and he gasped and thrust into her. She cried out with delight.

It didn’t take long for him to find a firm pace, more urgent than before. Peach clung to him as he buried himself again and again into her. His expression wrought with that lovely torment that betrayed his raw pleasure. He focused on her, shifting his weight onto one forearm so he could trace her face down to her breast again. His hot breath puffed against her neck. Peach gripped his hair tighter. 

They fit together so easily. How long had they both been wanting each other? How long had they been putting this off for their own fears when they could have discovered this possibility earlier?

Peach didn’t care to wonder anymore, smiling as she met his eyes. He smiled back. His hand wandered down further to stroke her clit as he pounded into her.

“ Oh!” Peach’s sharp cry fell into a moan. Her hands scrabbled along his back, nails scratching across. 

Mario groaned and shut his eyes, thrusting harder and faster. The tension wound impossibly tighter. He made circles around her clit with his fingers. Peach locked her legs around his waist, and he grit his teeth.

“I love you,” he choked out, suddenly surging to press his forehead into hers. He had pain and pleasure in his face all at once, an entrancing look. He shuddered. “I—I love you so much.”

Peach gasped. His hand worked her clit without slowing, and she had to gather herself before she could find the words. She almost expected the dream to end right there. But when it didn’t, when she realized Mario was real and sincere, she beamed. “I love you too,” she managed to get it out. She tilted her head up to kiss him, soft and deep.

All at once, the tension coiling deep within her snapped. With a cry, Peach writhed underneath him, rolls of pleasure undulating her hips. She heard Mario say something. A warning. His rhythm faltered as his hips shuddered against her, when he surged into her with almost brutal force. All the way inside her, as deep as he could go. As deep as she could take him. His cock throbbed, spilling molten heat inside of her, and the sensation was so perfect that Peach found herself finishing again. 

Her climax cascaded through her, as hot and miraculous as he was. 

His eyes were on her, even as his own climax tore through him. Mario watched her even as he came apart. Panting and twitching. 

He stayed, locked into her until his cock stopped throbbing. Until her hips stopped moving. He stayed, braced above her, and pressed a light kiss to her lips. Their bodies crested and slowly came down from the high they created together. 

Back to reality. The rumpled sheets twisted around them. The pillows and clothes on the floor. The moonlight streaming in from her balcony. Stillness.

Peach reached for Mario’s arm and motioned for him to relax. He eased down at first with uncertainty until he lay on top of her, resting his cheek on her breast. They breathed together. She stroked his hair and enjoyed the feeling of him inside her. This intimacy that neither of them could have imagined except in their most private dreams came so effortlessly. Like it was always going to happen.

“I’m going to fall asleep if I…If I stay like this.” Mario mumbled into her. He said it like it was a bad thing and shifted his knee as if he needed to move.

Kissing his forehead, Peach soothed him with a hand stroking up and down his back. “You can,” she murmured. “I like this.”

Mario hummed and shifted weakly to wrap his arms around her. Peach smiled.

She watched the dust motes in the dim light. The hint of stars out the window that she could just make out from the angle they were laying down. Her heart started to slow, and she found her eyelids drooping as well. She had never thought about how exhausting sex was. Muscles all over her body ached with a deep but somehow welcome soreness.

As she started to drift off, she thought with a smile about all the books she read and all her explorations and fantasies on her own. Those texts and dreams could only get her so far. The real experience eclipsed her previous understanding. 

She couldn’t wait to explore more, now that they had discovered their bodies were more than compatible. 

After all, she had this big private bedroom, and a huge castle with many secret rooms. And their bodies had many secrets to explore. The novelty excited her. 

They were going to have a lot of fun together. Peach smiled and faded off to dreams about Mario. About pulling him into a discreet corner before the next summit meeting, tugging his hair and sliding her hand in his boxers. About Mario digging under her layers upon layers of skirts to reveal her arousal to him and putting his wicked mouth to work on her clit. About one particularly popular position she'd seen in a book where she would be on her knees facing away from him and his cock would enter her from behind. 

So many possibilities. The low table in the library was the perfect height for her to sit and for him to stand and slide his cock into her. There was usually a break between conferences where she could whisk Mario away to a closet just long enough to push him into the wall and kneel down to take him in her mouth. The observatory deck went long periods of time without visitors and had a surprisingly plush carpet on the floor. And her private bathroom had a very accommodating bench in the shower as well as a large tub…

O~o~O