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Byleth visits Castle Fhirdiad several times after the war for political visits. Still, it’s months after she and Dimitri are already married when she finally gets her first glimpse of the apartments where she is meant to live while visiting Fhirdiad. She had been afraid to enter it at first, expecting to feel small and out of place in such opulent surroundings as the Royal Chamber, but the room she is ushered into is modest for someone of Dimitri’s rank, even by Faerghus standards. It’s large and chilly, sparsely furnished with stout, dark furniture clearly chosen for their sturdy construction as opposed to any aesthetic value.

It is terribly disappointing, although Byleth can see sense in these decorating decisions. She and Dimitri had spent their wedding night in the archbishop’s chambers, but the willowy timbers of the archbishop’s bed had not been up to the task of withstanding Dimitri’s strength and vigour. They had ended up spending the rest of their stay sleeping on the ground. Luckily Byleth herself is made of sterner stuff than that and can survive being rammed through a bed now and then; otherwise, her marriage situation might be a bit difficult to manage.

She is arranged in Dimitri’s lap, his lips pressing soft kisses onto her neck and chest as he rocks into her. His thrusts are firm but unhurried; his hands wander gently over her body, teasing her with flirting, feather-light strokes. He is always so careful with her, so cautious of his strength. He is still not used to giving and receiving affectionate touches, and he had accidentally hurt her a few times, so now he is sure to go slowly. Byleth has been quick to assure him that she has had worse and had really not been hurt by him at all, but no amount of cajoling seems to convince him.

"Is this alright? Do you feel good, my love?" Dimitri asks, pressing another kiss to her temple as his fingers slip between them to tweak her clit.

Byleth wants to cut him off, to remind him that they are supposed to be focusing on his pleasure for once and not hers, but the remark dies in her throat when his cock slips into her again, stretching her poor, overused cunt to its absolute limit as he slides home.

"Mmmnh...stop…talking…" is all she manages to say.

Dimitri hums appreciatively and continues what he's doing, hips undulating as he rocks into her. She wants more, even though the head of his cock is nudging warningly against her cervix and he can go no deeper. He's dangerously near to his release, though. His thrusting has lost some of its deliberateness, falling into a choppy, irregular rhythm as he tries to distract himself from squeezing her too hard. His length pushes into her more firmly than before, staying sheathed inside her for longer each time as though he is reluctant to leave her wet heat for long. The hand that's not tweaking her clit gathers up some of her hair, holding it away from her neck so he can plant wet, sloppy kisses all over her.

"Hmm, you're close," he says in a low, rumbling voice. "You'll come for me again, won't you, my dove? Please say you will."

There is a hunger in his gaze that doesn't translate to his adoring, gentle caresses, but he buries his face into the crook of her neck before she has a chance to examine it.

"I can't," Byleth pants, squirming. She has already been made to come more times than she can recall at this point and is somewhat afraid of what could be waiting for her on the other side of her next orgasm.

"Please, Byleth. I want to see you fall apart," Dimitri murmurs into her neck. "Please try."

She tries for him, shutting her eyes and tightening her focus as best she can. Dimitri's fingers circle her clit, sometimes gently rubbing, sometimes rolling and squeezing it between his fingers. His mouth sucks bruises into the side of her neck as his cock enters again and again, filling her completely and rubbing against every sensitive spot, each stroke nudging her closer and closer to release until she can take no more and comes with a high, trembling cry. Dimitri makes a pleased noise, clearly enjoying the feeling of her walls hugging him as he plunges into her with more force, bouncing her on his cock for a moment before he lets out a strangled groan and buries himself inside her to the hilt.

His head slumps onto her shoulder for a bit as they both catch their breath after their orgasms, but after a moment spent simply sitting there in each other's arms, he lays her down on the bed so he can pull out. She feels his seed leaking out of her and making a mess of her inner thighs and the bedsheets as he withdraws. There's a lot of it; he's come in her quite a few times already.

"Well? Was it enough this time?" Byleth asks hopefully. She feebly raises her head to check on him, only to be disappointed when she sees his cock still standing out in front of him, fully erect and twitching.

"Sorry," he says, looking sheepish as he covers himself with his hands.

Byleth groans and flops down in the bedclothes. "I don't understand what we're doing wrong!"

"It's nothing to feel inadequate about," Dimitri says. "It's always been this way for me. If I stop thinking about it, it tends to go away soon enough."

"You're not supposed to stop thinking about it. It's supposed to go away on its own when you're done," she says. "Are you telling me that you've never once been satisfied? Not ever? Do you not touch yourself?"

Dimitri makes an affronted noise. "Believe it or not, I'm not completely prudish. I do…you know…" He makes a suggestive jerking gesture with one hand. "That. But it's just such a big time investment that I often don't bother to finish the job. I just do it a few times to take the edge off."

The implication of that hangs in the air for a moment.

"Anyway, you needn't worry about me. That sort of thing isn't important to me," Dimitri says, disguising his awkwardness by planting a warm kiss on her cheek. "I feel fortunate that I get to do this with you at all. Now, stay put while I go fetch us some water."

He climbs out of bed and pulls his dressing gown on, heading for the antechamber before Byleth can get another word in. By the time he returns with a pitcher and glasses for both of them, he seems to have lost interest in their other conversation and begins to talk about the new weaponsmith who has recently entered the service of Castle Fhirdiad.

***

Byleth finds that she can't forget their conversation or how glum Dimitri had looked when he explained that he has already resigned himself to a life of half-measures. The situation might have been easy to overlook if he was the sort of lukewarm lover that is happy to chase their own pleasure and leave their partner unsatisfied, but Dimitri's passions burn more brightly than that. He seems almost obsessed with her body, fully dedicated to wringing every ounce of pleasure he can from her, and all she has to offer him in return is partial satisfaction. Her pride just won't let her leave it at that.

That's why she feels no guilt as she dons her travelling clothes and goes venturing into the seedier areas of Fhirdiad in search of an apothecary. She makes sure to keep her green hair hidden under the hood of a roughspun cloak. Even if she is not recognized by someone who means her harm, the unusual colour is sure to attract some unwanted attention. Word may even find its way back to Dimitri, and he will not be happy to hear that she's gone wandering in the slums of the castle town without so much as a bodyguard to protect her. Luckily, the trip goes without incident. She finds the apothecary easily enough, pleasantries and gold are exchanged, and Byleth returns to Castle Fhirdiad with the strongest love potion she can afford: the Wine of Furor, commonly called Furoris.

Dimitri is not in their chambers when she returns, which suits her just fine as she is able to take a moment to clean the grime of town off her and change into a slip she has kept hidden at the bottom of her travelling trunk to be brought out on a special occasion. Dimitri seems to enjoy having pretty clothes to take off her, though he doesn't get a chance to do it often since the outfits rarely survive the experience. Once she appraises herself in a looking glass and decides that she feels appealing enough, she turns her attention to the potion. It looks nice; small red rose petals and a fine, shimmering powder swimming lazily around in a light pink potion, but when she uncorks the bottle, she is immediately met by a bitter, medicinal smell that makes her think twice about drinking from it.

"Well. Bottoms up," she says, reminding herself that she is doing this for Dimitri as she raises the phial and tips the liquid down her throat.

It's vile, astringent, but simultaneously cloyingly sweet. Clearly, someone has made an effort to mask the bitter taste by adding boatloads of sugar and rosewater. They haven't been successful, though. At all. Byleth sets the empty bottle down, smacking her lips to get the taste out of her mouth as she stands waiting for something to happen, but she feels no different than usual. Minutes pass. Byleth tries to busy herself with practising her faith magic as she wonders when the Furoris is supposed to take effect. What if the apothecary had taken her for an easy mark and had sold her the wrong thing? Perhaps she should have asked more questions.

More time passes. Byleth begins to tire of practice, feeling warm from overexerting her magic. She frowns and rises from her seat on the only chair in the room, a firm chaise longue upholstered in blue damask, to go open the window. It doesn't help. She goes back again and throws the window open wide this time, but the searing heat continues to roar under her skin, unaffected by the icy wind that comes howling through the opening. She realizes that she is feeling the effects of Furoris exactly a moment too late. A wave of white-hot arousal rolls through her body, stronger than any she has ever felt before.

Where's Dimitri? she wonders, gasping and sinking to her knees as another wave tears through her. She feels wetness gathering on her inner thigh as slick begins to trickle out of her in startling amounts. Her cunt clenches down around nothing, desperate for something to come along and stuff her full. Dimitri's long thick cock would be just the thing for the job. She trembles as she imagines him coming in, happening across her in her current state, whispering soothing words in her ear as the tip of his manhood nudges its way inside her. She feels achingly hollow now, her arousal sharpening into a kind of agony. Even the thin, fine fabric of her slip now grates against her skin like sackcloth. Her fingers find their way to her womanhood almost of their own accord, and she lets out a whine as they deftly rub her clit, coating themselves in the silky fluid coating her thighs before plunging into her hole. It doesn't help. Her fingers are too short and narrow to give her the stretch that she craves. Where was Dimitri? He is usually done with his morning responsibilities and is beginning to think about lunch by now. He should be back. Even having his fingers inside her would be preferable to her current tormenting hollowness.

Maybe I should have waited for him to get back, she thinks. It's her last lucid thought before the haze of arousal that has been encroaching on her closes in and swallows her entirely.

***

The sky is fully dark by the time Dimitri makes his way from the dining hall to the private chamber he shares with Byleth. She had not made an appearance at lunch or dinner, which is uncharacteristic but not enough to cause concern. What does concern him, though, is that one of the castle guards had spotted her sneaking off castle grounds in her travelling boots and cloak. It is no secret to him that she often sneaks out of the castle and the monastery to disappear into the wilds for the afternoon. At this point, he almost expects it of her. She is still unaccustomed to the world of ancient, austere halls and such places make her feel trapped and uneasy. But she had been spotted heading out hours ago, and no one has seen her since.

What if she's been injured? he wonders, anxiety churning in his gut. Then an even worse idea suggests itself to him. What if someone's taken her? He can't rule out the possibility. Enemies of the new united Fodlan are everywhere, and the Archbishop would make a fine hostage for anyone looking to bring down the new regime. He desperately wishes for Areadbhar, which is now at rest in the Holy Tomb with the other confiscated Heroes' Relics. If someone has taken Byleth or caused her to come to even the slightest harm, he will hunt them down and skewer them. No, no, that would be too painless a death for such monsters. They deserve to be flayed alive. He'll do the job himself and then twist their heads off like dolls'.

He recognizes the violent direction his thoughts are leading him in and tamps down on them before they can go any further. He is supposed to be ushering in an era of peace. There is to be no more skewering and certainly no more flaying. Instead, he offers a desperate, silent prayer to whatever gods will listen that Byleth will be safely in their chambers as he turns the brass handle to their door. There is no sign of Byleth in the antechamber when he lets himself in, though his panic subsides when he notices that coals are still glowing in the fireplace. She must have returned at some point and fallen asleep.

"Byleth?" he calls, hanging up his cloak as he ventures into the room. "Are you in here?"

At first, there is no response, but then he hears a faint rustling of fabric and a quiet padding of bare feet on the varnished wooden floors before Byleth wanders in on wobbling knees. For a moment, Dimitri can't help but gawk at her. The slip she's wearing almost completely sheer and barely long enough to cover the apex of her thighs. A quiet, hungry voice stirs at the back of his mind. Rip it off, it says gleefully. Take her.

Dimitri ignores this thought too and forces himself to meet her gaze instead. Byleth doesn't acknowledge him, her eyes seemingly fixed on something in the far distance. Something is definitely amiss. Dimitri crosses the room in two long strides to take her by the shoulders.

"Byleth," he calls. She doesn't answer him. "Byleth, what are you looking at? What's wrong with you?"

When she looks up at him, her pupils are blown so wide that only a thin sliver of jade remains around the edges. "Dimitri…" she says.

"Yes, it's me," Dimitri says. "What's going on? Is something wrong? Shall I summon a doctor?"

"Feels...feels so hot…" Byleth murmurs, blinking. "So hot...please…"

"Please what?" Dimitri says.

"Please let me suck your cock."

Dimitri drops her shoulders. "I beg your pardon?"

Byleth seems annoyed by his reticence and presses in on him when he tries to back away. Dimitri falters, distracted by the warm pressure of her breasts flattening against his chest, and Byleth sees this as her opening and pounces on him, forcing him back onto the velvet upholstered chaise longue and trying to wrestle his trousers off. Dimitri seizes her and holds her at arm's length before she can go any further, although he wants her to. Oh, by the gods, does he want her to.

"Is this any time to be thinking about that?" he demands, trying his best to sound stern and unaffected by Byleth's obvious hunger for him. "What in the world is the matter with you?"

Byleth struggles against his grip for a moment but soon realizes that it's useless to fight him and subsides, resigned. "Furoris," she says.

Dimitri's eye widens. He is vaguely familiar with the draught from the time he had spent in the slums of Fhirdiad, where he had once helped a certain dealer obtain the ingredients for it in exchange for access to an Empire general who had been stationed in the area at the time. It is a highly desired concoction, powerful enough that those affected by it are overcome with lust to the point that they lose interest in food and water. And Byleth has gone and taken some of it. She might have been in danger if he hadn't returned in time. That small voice speaks again, more insistently now, She must be absolutely desperate for you.

Dimitri scowls and tries to banish the thought. "This is about the other night, isn't it?" he scolds. "I told you that sort of thing isn't important to me." Liar.

Byleth shrugs and rubs her thighs together, her eyes fixed on him. Now that he knows Byleth is in no immediate distress he begins to notice the scent of her arousal hanging in the air all around her, heavy and impossible to resist. She must have been trying to pleasure herself without him, though it must not have worked very well if her current desire to undress him is any indication. It's clear enough that she needs his help.

Want starts to pool in his stomach as his eye begins to wander over her body despite himself, noticing the way her nipples are flushed pink, like bullseyes inviting his lips and fingers. He has always been cautious with her, mindful of how easily he can damage her with his strength, but that doesn't mean he's never entertained the idea of pinning her to the bedsheets and fucking her as hard as he can. He is, after all, only a man and a savage one at that.

Byleth gazes up at him hopefully, biting her lip as he hooks one finger under the strap of her sheer nightgown. The action draws his eye to her plush mouth and the wet pink tongue pressing at the inside of her teeth. Claim her mouth first, the voice advises gleefully. If she wants your cock she should work for it. The encouragement has the opposite of the intended effect. He draws his hand away as though burned and shakes his head to clear his wayward thoughts.

This is wrong. He won't take advantage of her and use her for his own pleasure when she's in such an impaired state. But she does need him, so he will only partake enough that she is satisfied and no longer in pain, and then he will leave her to sleep the effects of the potion off. There will be absolutely no pinning.

"You must have been hurting without me," he says, forcing a gentle smile. "Perhaps you'd like my help?"

Byleth pinches her eyes shut. "Please."

Dimitri nods, guiding Byleth to sit in the chaise with a gentle hand on her rear. Byleth obeys, looking down at him with glazed, far away eyes as he kneels before her, spreading her thighs so he can arrange himself between them. The scent of her arousal, thick and inebriant and all woman, has his mouth watering almost at once. His lips brush over her inner thighs as they make their way to her sex, pausing now and then to plant kisses on her warm, waiting flesh. Byleth whines, tugging impatiently on his hair to encourage him onward, but he punishes her by sinking his teeth into her thigh, which makes her squeal and writhe in his grip.

"Patience," he chides her, waiting for her to nod weakly before he seals his mouth over her slit.

She gasps, rolling her hips against his tongue in her desperation to get more friction. She's more sensitive than usual, an observation that only adds to his excitement and has his cock straining uncomfortably against the seam of his pants. He ignores it and does his best to focus on Byleth, his eyes falling shut as he allows his tongue to do its work, licking and probing along the slick, wet petals of her womanhood, worshipping her as best he can with his lips and tongue. Byleth responds to his attentions with an unusual amount of enthusiasm, fisting her hand in his hair to press him closer as she grinds and ruts herself against his mouth. Her orgasm hits out of nowhere, her thighs sealing around his head as she arches and writhes. Dimitri doesn't care, leaning further in as he devours her. She can suffocate him between her thighs for all he cares. He sucks in a breath once she finally releases him to flop bonelessly onto the chaise, sated for a moment, but it's not long before the potion takes hold of her again, and she looks over at him pleadingly.

"Would you like more?" Dimitri asks politely as he rests his hand on her thigh. If he keeps his demeanour businesslike, there may yet be hope for him to get through this with his sanity intact.

"Not enough..." Byleth mumbles. "Inside...I need you inside…"

Yes, yes, yes. "I'm not sure that's wise," Dimitri says, turning his eye away before the sight of her spread pussy and waiting hole can overpower his better judgement.

Byleth actually growls at him and tugs on his hair. "Inside," she insists.

Dimitri grunts and grits his teeth against the pain, ignoring the wave of aggression and arousal that rolls through his body at such rough treatment. "If you wish," he says, though his voice comes out less even than he would like.

Remember, this is for Byleth, he tells himself as he gets to his feet and begins to fumble with the laces of his trousers. For Byleth. Don't take more than you need to. Byleth rolls herself onto her hands and knees to present herself to him, bracing herself against the chaise's arm as she looks back at him over her shoulder with half-lidded eyes. His palms itch uncontrollably, desperate to press bruises into her soft, unmarked skin as he rams himself inside her. For Byleth, he repeats, more firmly this time, as he positions himself behind her.

He gives himself a few gentle strokes as his hand wanders over her curves, his touch almost innocent at first as his fingers creep under the hem of her thin slip. His palms smoothing over the soft arc of her rear and down into the dip of her small waist, ruching the fabric up as he goes. They both let out desperate little noises when the blunt head of his cock nudges her open as he prepares to slide himself into her.

Byleth makes a frustrated noise and wiggles her hips at him. "Hnng...what are you waiting for?" she says. "Give it to me already."

He can't resist such a pretty invitation. Her teeth set into her lower lip when he grabs onto her waist with both hands and shoves himself into her hard. "Oh, goddess," he says without meaning to. She's wetter than she's ever been before; the tight, slick grip of her pussy is perfect, sublime, clamping down on his length and pulling at him like it's trying to suck him in. His fingers grapple onto her, undoubtedly leaving marks as he teeters at the edge of a sort of frenzy.

"Sorry," he says dizzily once he's returned to himself. "That was a bit rough."

Byleth chuckles breathily, stretching herself out on the chaise so he can better admire her figure. Something twinges inside him. "I like rough," she says. "Go ahead and ruin me with that fat cock of you--mmmph!!"

She yelps, clearly caught off guard when he draws back, only to shove his way back in with savage force. "Is that so? If you're so eager to get ruined, I'll oblige you," he hears himself say as his hand lands between her shoulder blades, forcing her down onto her elbows as he ramps up his pace. He's thrusting into her brutally hard now, and he's dimly aware that he ought to be treating his wife with more respect instead of fucking her like a whore, but whatever seems to have taken control of his body seems to care less about that and is mindlessly chasing release, drunk with power at the sight of his beloved submitting so utterly to him. Byleth doesn't last long against such a relentless pounding, coming with a long, loud wail. Dimitri soon follows her over the edge, pulling her tight against him as his cock twitches and fills her up with cum.

He trembles as he comes down from his high, pulling out of her to assess if he's done any damage. Her waist is absolutely covered in angry red imprints of his fingers, and there is a distinct impression of teeth on her inner thigh where he had bitten her, but she seems no worse for wear as she regains her balance to and rolls over on her back.

"Er... I'm sorry about that, my love," he says. "I have no idea what came over me."

"Again," Byleth says. "Harder."

"Harder?" Dimitri says, a blush rising on his cheeks. "I'm not sure if..."

Byleth climbs impatiently into his lap. "I said...harder, damn it," she growls. "I don't want...to be able to walk tomorrow."

Her lips descend on his before he can protest, rough with desperation. Dimitri finds himself leaning into the kiss before he can stop himself, sucking and biting her lips with ravenous hunger. She wants it, the hungry voice whispers as his tongue prises her lips apart, darting in and out of her mouth like he's fucking her. Give her what she wants. Tear her in half. Dimitri grunts and tries to back away, appalled at such a violent thought, but Byleth seizes him by his ponytail before he can get far, forcing him to deepen the kiss. Dimitri groans, fighting desperately to hold on to control and succeeding somewhat until Byleth lets out a frustrated whine and grinds her wet slit against his cock. A desperate, strangled noise sounds in his throat, and before he knows it, Byleth is on the chaise beneath him, caged between his arms as she blinks up at him.

Her lips curl into a smirk as she seems to realize that she's gotten the better of him. Oh, he's going to have to punish her for that. "Take me to bed," she says.

"Don't think you can order me around," Dimitri says sharply, resisting the urge to laugh at the shock written on her face. "Ask me nicely. You're the one who's desperate."

Byleth opens her mouth, no doubt to issue a cutting remark, but she falls silent when his hand wraps gently around her throat, looking monstrously large against her pale, slender neck. Her eyes widen, her expression caught halfway between terror and arousal when he tightens his grip, not enough to injure, but certainly enough to threaten.

"Shall I relieve you?" Dimitri asks, relishing the way her green doe eyes look up at him as she nods demurely at him.

"If you want to come, you have to do everything I say," he says teasingly.

Byleth nods again, only to go still when his thumb begins to stroke her neck, applying gentle pressure to the hollow of her throat. "Use your words, my dove," he says.

Byleth swallows, her throat bobbing under his thumb. "Anything," she says, her voice a lot less demanding now. Usually, his attempts to tell her what to do are met with disdain and sometimes insults, but she seems eager to play this sort of game today. "Please…I need you...anything you say."

Dimitri's grin is all teeth. "Call me your Majesty," he says. Byleth only blinks dumbly at him. "Byleth…" he begins, then he tries again with more authority. "Byleth, your king is speaking to you. Do as I say."

Byleth trembles. "Yes, Your Majesty," she says weakly.

Dimitri chuckles, a dark rumbling noise that has Byleth's thighs rubbing together, spreading the wetness of her arousal between them as he gets to his feet. Byleth's gaze goes to his still erect cock where it juts out from his unlaced trousers, her tongue darting out to lick her lips hungrily. Dimitri's cock twitches in response.

"Can I still suck you off?" she asks. Dimitri fixes her with a stern look. "Your Majesty," she adds quickly.

Dimitri pretends to consider her request, brushing her hair away from her face to get a better look at her flustered, red face. "Go on then," he says.

Her mouth is on him at once, almost catching him off guard. He groans deep in his throat when he feels the head of his cock glide over her tongue and into her hot, wet mouth as she sucks him off. His hips buck into her, eager to bury itself deep inside her and Byleth moans approvingly, stroking the part of him that won't fit into her mouth to encourage him to fuck her. Dimitri acquiesces, grunting as he eagerly pumps his cock into her mouth. Byleth eyelashes flutter at him as his length disappears into her, her quiet moans vibrating along his length as he fucks her throat.

"Oh, goddess, that's so good," Dimitri hisses through clenched teeth.

Byleth hums happily, bobbing her head along his length as fast as she can go, swallowing him down as though her life depends on it as her free hand reaches around to stroke his balls. Dimitri shudders, his cock pulsing and twitching as it prepares to spill inside her, but Byleth clings to him when he tries to withdraw, driving him further in, so he's forced to come in her mouth. Dimitri grunts as she continues to suck him, happily swallowing each new rope of cum as it comes out of him, only releasing him once she's sure he has no more to give.

Dimitri stumbles groggily backwards, but unsurprisingly his erection doesn't subside at all. In fact, he might want her even more now. Byleth gazes up at him, licking her lips and looking smug to have had such a reaction from him. He snatches her up into his arms, crossing the room in a few long strides and nearly tossing her into bed in his eagerness to get at her. Byleth makes a noise of surprise, thrashing inelegantly to get free of the sheets as Dimitri hurries to pull his clothes off. His elbow tears open the collar of his shirt as he tries to pull it off over his head, but he hardly cares about something so stupid, distracted by the promise of a wet and oh so willing hole to bury himself in and the image of Byleth's firm, curvaceous, fuckable little body completely limp with pleasure and pliant in his hands. Byleth doesn't seem interested in torn shirt either. Her gaze is fixed on him as he crawls onto the bed, her thighs parting invitingly as he climbs over her, trapping her between his elbows as he presses their bodies together so she can feel his weight. The head of his cock bumps against her inner thigh as he takes himself in hand, leaking precum as he lines himself up with her entrance and she trembles. The eyes looking back at him are almost entirely black now, deep bottomless pools of desire, wanting him, needing him to fill her up and stretch her and ruin her.

Maybe he can indulge himself in her just this once.

***

Byleth struggles away from him when he puts his hands on her, retreating to the far corner of the bed.

Dimitri frowns. "Is something wrong, my star?" he asks. He is aiming for gentleness, but his voice comes out hoarse and hungry and not gentle at all.

"I want to be on top this time," she says.

Dimitri narrows his eye at her. "Who's in charge here?" he says.

"You are...Your Majesty," Byleth says stiffly.

"Exactly. Now come back here," Dimitri says. He reaches for her, only to have his hand smacked away. "Ouch, that was a bit uncalled for."

"I want to be on top," Byleth insists.

"I'll decide when you get to be on top," Dimitri says, but Byleth doesn't bend, folding her arms and looking away petulantly, even as a combination of his seed and her arousal runs down her thighs. Dimitri grins inwardly, pleased to see that the potion hasn't stripped away any of the bullheadedness that makes her so attractive to him.

He tries to shuffle closer without her notice, but she only darts away from him, which must be quite a feat in her lust-addled state.

"Say I can get on top," she says, panting now. The potion's effects must be catching up with her again, working to ensure his victory in this particular battle of wills between them.

"I won't," he says.

"I'll run from you."

"If you do, I'll have no choice but to chase you," he assures her.

Byleth scoffs. "You're not near fast enough to catch me."

"I'm more than fast enough when you're like this," Dimitri says, his eye narrowing dangerously. "You won't get far. And when I catch you, I'll be sure to give you something useful to do with that smart mouth of yours."

Byleth whimpers, clearly struggling to resist the effects of the Furoris and the magnetic pull of his voice. She looks so enticing as she chews on her lip and wriggles as she wars against her own body that Dimitri decides to have a bit of mercy on her.

"Very well, I'll let you on top," he says, rolling over onto his back so she can mount him. "But don't ask again."

Byleth hurries to do as he says, climbing into his lap with an unusual amount of coordination for someone in her condition. His eye follows her, drinking in every detail as Byleth climbs up his body until her cunt is lined up with his cock. She takes it in hand, biting her lip as she lines him up with her hole, but she has hardly pressed the head in when he stops her with a firm hand on her wrist.

"Don't just shove it in. Take a moment to appreciate it, won't you?" he says. "Ah, I know. Why don't you tease yourself a bit first?"

Byleth bites her lip shyly, which is quite adorable when combined with her thoroughly debauched appearance. Her entire body is flushed and rosy, her hair stands out wildly around her head, tumbling over her breasts and shoulders. He grunts as the head of his cock sweeps through her folds, collecting wetness, circling and tapping her sensitive bud, just barely dipping into her hole before starting the pattern over again. Byleth whimpers and looks at him pleadingly, silently begging his permission to sink down on his length. She's never looked more beautiful.

Dimitri lunges at her, catching her off guard as she lands on her back in the pillows. His lips latch onto her nipple, handling it perhaps a bit more roughly than he ought to with his tongue and teeth as he mindlessly bucks his hips at her. They are both so covered in slick and cum that he can slip into her easily but only fits himself about halfway in before Byleth begins to struggle and press her hands into his shoulders.

Dimitri releases her breast reluctantly and raises his head to look at her, although his lips and tongue are itching to return to her nipple. "What's wrong, my love?"

"What happened to me being on top?" Byleth asks. She's trying to look imperious, although she trembles when he chuckles darkly at her and wraps his thick fingers around her hips, framing her perfect pussy on both sides.

"I changed my mind," he says.

Byleth's face goes into a little pout. "But I wanted to..."

Dimitri acknowledges that with a nod and then pushes into her, admiring the way her face pinches, and she struggles weakly against him as he slowly impales her on his cock once again. Her insides are wet and gummy and accept him readily, which is why he hardly bothers being cautious as he might usually be as he fucks into her with considerable force. She seems to have forgotten about demanding to be on top now, but Dimitri decides to oblige her anyway, rolling them over so she is perched on top of him, though she can't quite move on her own with his hands on her hips. Byleth squirms, her eyes rolling back as his cock reaches deeper inside her, and she gasps as he guides her into a rhythm she seems to like with his hands on her rear, helpless to do anything but cry out and rake at his chest with her fingernails as he forces another orgasm out of her. He follows soon after, imprinting new bruises on her as he forces her down onto his length so he can empty himself in her as deeply as possible as her walls squeeze and pulse around him. She slumps over onto his chest when he releases her, taking deep, heaving breaths for a moment before raising her head to look at him accusingly.

"You lied to me," she says.

"I did no such thing," Dimitri replies. "I only changed my mind."

"Changing your mind once you've got what you want is almost as good as a lie," Byleth says.

"I suppose you are the moral authority on such things, being the archbishop," he says. "Very well, Your Grace. So I am almost as good as a liar." His hand lands on her ass to encourage her to sink down further on his still erect cock. Some of his cum is leaking out of her, and he wants to make sure it all stays inside her where it belongs. "What are you going to do about it?"

***

"Fu-fuck," Byleth gasps as the head of his cock presses into her. He can feel himself stretching her as he pushes his way in, her warm wet walls taking the shape of his cock and hugging every inch of him. He growls under his breath as his head spins, his teeth sinking into her breast hard enough to make her cry out. Her noise only urges him on. He withdraws until only the head is inside before shoving himself back in brutally hard. Then he does it again, and again, his usual caution thrown out of the window in favour of delivering a ruthless, feral fucking.

Byleth loves it, moaning freely as he rearranges her insides. Her legs lock around his waist, ankles pressing into the small of his back in an attempt to keep him inside every time he thrusts into her. Dimitri ignores her, hammering as hard as he can as his mouth abuses her breasts, laving her pebbled nipples with his tongue, decorating the supple, pliable flesh with love bites and the angry red imprints of his teeth. Her next orgasm wracks her body with pleasure, her walls clamping down on him bitingly hard as she rocks her hips against him and cries out. Dimitri's hand claps over her mouth, muffling the noise as he continues to rut into her, drawing her orgasm out even longer. Bright light fills the room as her crest flares to life, and all the marks and bruises he has inflicted on her thus far vanish in a shower of particles. Dimitri frowns at the destruction of all his hard work, but he's forced to empty his load inside her when her cunt won't stop twitching and milking him for all he's worth. His hips press into her hard, levering her hips up as he paints her insides with ropes of sticky cum.

He stills for a moment to catch his breath, but he's soon thrusting into her again with just as much intensity as before. His face presses into the crook of her neck, drunkenly inhaling her scent as his focus narrows until nothing exists beyond the snug embrace of Byleth's womanhood along his cock as he sloppily thrusts into her. Byleth plants her heels into the mattress to give herself enough leverage to meet his thrusts with her hips. Dimitri disapproves of that. He wants her to come by his hand and his only. His thrusts turn short and vicious, putting a stop to her movement as his hips flatten hers against the mattress, sinking into her deeper than ever as his cock squeezes in between the cleft of her thighs as well as her cunt as he rocks into her. Byleth wails, arching and kneading him with her hips as she comes. Her pale, elongated neck is simply begging for a bite mark, and his tongue flicks out of his mouth, wetting his teeth before sinking them into the vulnerable flesh at the junction of her neck and shoulder. Byleth cries out hoarsely, going rigid as she tumbles into another orgasm.

"Goddess, you're so sensitive," Dimitri rumbles, nuzzling her neck as he continues to drive into her. "And you take me so well, my beloved. What am I to do with you? I'm so utterly weak for you."

Byleth only groans. The potion has her fully in its grip now, and she has little interest in exchanging words with him unless it's to beg for release or to demand that he fuck her harder. Dimitri smirks at her, his pace growing rough and graceless as he reaches his peak and spills himself inside her yet again. Some of his cum leaks out of her around his cock. She's quite full now, and his cock no longer enough to keep her plugged on its own.

"Ah, my apologies," Dimitri says, pulling out of her and watching interestedly as more cum leaks out of her. "I may have overfilled you a bit."

Byleth grunts at him as he leans over the edge of the bed to retrieve his discarded shirt. "Let's get you cleaned up and then get back to it, shall we?

***

The darkness beneath the bed’s canopy illuminates briefly, throwing deep shadows onto Byleth’s face as the Crest of Blaiddyd blazes over Dimitri’s head. Byleth makes a little noise, although Dimitri can’t tell whether it’s from pain or pleasure. He’s not even sure she can distinguish between the two anymore. Light flashes again as Byleth’s Crest goes off next, seemingly being fed by his own power and healing whatever damage he had just inflicted on her.

Dimitri’s face is pressed into the side of her neck, jaw clenched tight as he takes her from behind. He thrusts into her with force that sits right on the edge between pain and pleasure, seemingly unconcerned that Byleth is holding onto the sheets to stop herself from being shoved over as he tries to satisfy his hunger. It’s not enough, though. One of his thrusts hits particularly hard, and Dimitri slips out of her as she is knocked flat onto the mattress. Dimitri makes a disgruntled noise and reaches for her, dragging her back over to him by her ankle and nudging her hips up just enough to make room for him to slide back inside her.

“Dimitri, wait, I…” Byleth says dizzily, but Dimitri gently shushes her and kisses her temple before cramming his length inside her. Byleth squeaks, her head lolling over to one side as his arm winds around her body to play with her clit. His fingers slip between her folds, thoroughly coating themselves in her wetness as they stroke her.

“You’re holding out on me,” he says as he thrusts into her, not even bothering to withdraw himself fully anymore before forcing himself back into her wet, sloppy cunt. The gentleness is completely gone from his voice now, replaced by an angry growling tone that usually only jumps out in the heat of battle. “Let me see you come.”

“I can’t!” Byleth protests and she probably thinks she means it. He’s made her come more times than he can count at this point, but he’s greedy and wants more. Byleth struggles, trying to wriggle away from his unforgiving thrusting and his curious fingers intent on savaging her clit with pinches and rough strokes. But there is nowhere for her to go with Dimitri is hunched above her to prevent her escape, firm and unyielding as stone.

“You can,” he says. “Don’t be difficult.”

Byleth only whimpers, thrashing against him as his fingers pick up their pace, pinching and abusing her clit in time with his thrusts. She pants, and arches, throwing her head back as she succumbs to the fire in her veins despite herself. Dimitri licks his lips, modifying his pace to hit her with short, choppy strokes, amused by the way her voice goes wobbly and staccato as each one lands. Sweat drips from his nose to the back of her neck until, at last, he comes with a guttural groan. His eye pinches shut as relief floods his body, his hips grinding and rocking weakly against her ass as he fills her to the brim. Goddess, why had he ever thought this would be a bad idea?

***

Dimitri leaves off stroking himself and turns his head to look at Byleth with his good eye. She lays with her face buried in the cushions, hardly moving except for her deep, steady breathing, but she's beginning to stir. Her skin is shiny with spit and sweat and decorated with hickeys and faint red impressions of his teeth as the sky is decorated by stars. She's a mess, but a beautiful mess, his greatest work to date. Cum leaks out of her and into the duvet cover, reminding him vaguely of the Derdriu style cream-filled buns the cook sometimes serves for tea.

As if on cue, the little bell by the door jingles, which can only mean that it's dinner time, and one of the servants has come up to bring them food after they've been missed at lunch. Dimitri groggily tries to recall how long they've been sequestered in their room as he hauls himself into an upright position. "By the door, please," he calls, reluctantly parting himself from Byleth's warm, pliable form.

There is no response that he can hear, but once he puts on his robe and hurries across the cold floor to the door, he finds a cart with a platter of food under a cloche cover. Byleth is fully awake and out of bed by the time he returns with the cart, though she uncharacteristically ignores the tray of food and stares hungrily at the tent in his robe instead.

"Again," she says once he draws near.

"You should eat something first," he says, offering her a little plate of bread.

Byleth smirks. "If you say so," she says, undoing his sash so that his robe falls open. Her small hand strokes the length of his cock, sending a shudder down his body as her thumb spreads silky precum across the head. He pulls her to his chest, unable to help himself, melding their lips together in a searing kiss that is all teeth and hungry tongues. Byleth blinks dizzily when they part.

"You said you'd do anything I asked," he says, pushing the plate at her again. "Eat. There's water for you as well."

Byleth pouts and looks away, rubbing her thighs together impatiently.

"Shall I feed you?" Dimitri suggests.

That gets her attention. Dimitri chuckles at her eagerness, pulling the food cart up beside the chaise longue and seating himself. He stops her when she tries to nestle in beside him, patting his naked thigh when she looks at him with confusion.

"Sit here," he suggests. "It'll be easier for me to feed you that way."

Byleth nods, allowing him to guide her to him with a firm hand on her hip. She sighs when his cock slips back inside her as he arranges her to sit in his lap, letting her thighs fall open so he can stretch and fill every inch of her. Dimitri's groan reverberates through both their bodies, but he wills himself to stay on task, tearing off a piece of bread and offering it to Byleth, pressing it to her lips so she can eat. For a moment, Byleth looks like she wants to refuse, but at length, her mouth opens, and her lips wrap around his fingers as she takes the bread.

Dimitri can't help but press into her just a bit, imagining those lips around his cock instead of his fingers, but he manages to tamp down on the urge to rut himself against her like an animal. Impatient as he is, he can at least wait for her to finish eating before he takes her again. He tears off another bit of bread and feeds it to her, absently stroking the bulge his cock creates in her stomach with his free hand. Byleth begins to lose interest in the bread, her lips and tongue playing with his fingers more and more suggestively as she continues to eat from his hand.

"You're meant to be eating," he says sternly.

"Tired of eating," Byleth complains. "Want you."

"You can't have me if you don't eat," Dimitri says.

Byleth only scowls at him over her shoulder. "Fine," she says smugly. "I'll get myself off."

Her hand goes down to her womanhood, where she's spread apart on his cock, pinching and rolling her clit between her fingers in a fair mimicry of his own technique. She shudders and moans out loud for his benefit as she plays with herself, her pussy squeezing around him in a manner that can only be described as inviting. Dimitri snatches her hand away before she can continue.

"Don't do that," he hisses.

"Why shouldn't I if you won't," Byleth shoots back.

Dimitri snarls at her, his forehead pressing into the back of her neck as his hands hook under her knees, tucking them up against her chest to spread her even wider for him. He growls as he feels himself slide even deeper into her, the head of his cock kissing her cervix. Byleth makes a concerned noise and struggles.

"What's the matter, my dove?" Dimitri asks, pressing a sweet little kiss to the side of her neck, even as his fingers curl into her thighs.

"You're...going to tear me in half…" Byleth whimpers.

Dimitri chuckles darkly. "Isn't this what you wanted?" he says in her ear. "You told me to let the beast out. You don't want to play now that he's here?" Byleth trembles. "You're going to take whatever your king gives you like a good little queen, aren't you?" he presses.

She cries out helplessly and strains against his hands as he fucks himself up into her, slick leaking out of her again and coating his cock and balls. "Hmmm, beautiful," he croons against her neck, planting a kiss just beneath her ear. "You are so beautiful like this, my love, all spread out and desperate for me to take you." He punctuates his sentence with another kiss, another thrust. "Please, you shouldn't trouble yourself. I won't hurt you." Her head falls back against his shoulders as he begins to fuck into her in earnest, pressing himself into her as deeply as he can manage as he drags her up and down his length. "I'm going to take such good care of you."

***

At some point, he thinks that Byleth may be about to tap out when she starts crying. He levers himself up to assess the situation and check her for injuries, only for Byleth to raise her ass in the air so he can see her dripping folds. "Again," she says, breathless. "Again. Again. Harder."

Dimitri's hands are around her waist in an instant, holding her steady as he arranges himself behind her to press his length up against her opening. "Harder? Are you sure?" he asks, although he's already made up his mind to fuck her senseless. "Aren't you worried about being able to walk later?"

Byleth pushes her hips back against him, unconcerned. Her wet pussy slides up his length, and she is so wet that the head of his cock just barely slips into her on its own. She gasps and arches, coming hard when Dimitri's hands tighten around her, holding her still as he squeezes himself inside her and stuffs her full. Her pussy is utterly conquered and resistless now and accepts his cock in whatever way he sees fit.

"You're coming so well for me," Dimitri observes.

Byleth doesn't answer, squeezing herself around him in a silent demand for him to fuck her again. He bucks his hips forward, driving into her with all of his considerable strength. It must hurt, but Byleth happily takes everything he has to give her, pushing back against him as he thrusts into her and filling the room with the lewd noises of their coupling.

"How many times must I tell you not to move," Dimitri growls, forcing her down by collaring her neck. Byleth only looks back at him defiantly and rutting back against him, plucking at his tenuous grip on his sanity.

"If you're so eager to get fucked harder, let me oblige you," Dimitri says, his voice growing rougher with each word. He pulls her backwards to meet his next thrust, grinning approvingly when she cries out and trembles in his hands.

Her pussy tightens around him again, massaging and squeezing him for all he's worth. He truly doesn't mean to do what he does next, but his cock seems to have grown a mind of its own, and it can't resist the temptation to force its way into that hot, tight channel. His hands grip her by the hips, fingers digging into the vulnerable flesh, raising her knees off the bed as he angling her pussy just so that his thrusts reach the deepest part of her. Byleth moans, long and loud, utterly uncaring of who might hear. He might ordinarily be embarrassed by the noise, but today a savage urge seems to have taken hold of him. He hopes the entire castle hears them; he wants everyone to know that Byleth is his and no one else's. The thought has him spilling inside her yet again, although curiously, it's not as much as before.

He pulls himself out and flips her over, intending to mount her again, until he notices her pretty pink slit perfectly on display for him, wet and puffy and glistening invitingly at him. Byleth groans and struggles weakly when he forces her legs apart and clamps his mouth over her sex. Her pussy makes slick, juicy noises as he runs his tongue over her folds, sucking and attacking her clit, flicking his tongue in and out of her wet, open hole. Byleth moans and explodes, her hips buck desperately against his face. He extricates himself from her grip instead of helping her ride out her orgasm, dragging her over to him and shoving his cock back inside her before she can recover. She writhes and screams to high heaven, forced over the edge again when he starts fucking her sensitive cunt. He comes as well, though not without difficulty, his body seized in full-body shuddering orgasm with a hint of pain.

***

The effects of the Furoris are beginning to wear off, and Byleth is starting to get more than a little groggy. Dimitri is still hard, though probably less aggressively so than before. It's probably been around a full day now, and people are probably beginning to miss them at some meeting or other. Dimitri finds that he doesn't care much about his court and their silly meetings just now. Nothing matters outside of Byleth and the warmth of her mouth and pussy and the warm, dark den they have made for themselves inside the thick velvet canopy of their bed. Byleth awakens groggily from her nap and reaches for him, and he leans into her touch, meeting her lips with a languid, devouring kiss. He is too tired for his previous vigour now but is still not quite satisfied.

Byleth climbs into his lap, and he guides her onto his cock with a gentle hand on her ass. Byleth seems to have overcome her previous reticence about trying to come now and greedily accepts orgasms in whatever form he gives them to her. His arms go around her, holding her warm body against him as he plants his heels into the mattress to give himself enough leverage to thrust up into her. Byleth reciprocates as best she can, his name falling from her lips in quiet, mewling cries that stroke his ego and spur him on faster. Byleth's walls flutter weakly when he comes in her, and when her hands sneak down to her clit to finish the job, he doesn't bother to smack her hand away. He watches hungrily as she touches herself, doing little more than continuing to thrust into her to help her reach her peak. Byleth pants, her face pinching as she spreads her thighs to force him in deeper, and then comes with a weak, shivering cry and almost at once, Dimitri is rolling them over into their next position. He throws her legs over his shoulders and leaning in above her until her knees nearly touch her ears.

"You should have seen your face just now, my love," he says, looking at her through heavy-lidded eyes.

"Mmm," Byleth says sleepily.

"Would you like to come again?" he asks.

"Mmm," Byleth says again, reaching down to position his cock at her entrance. He takes that as a yes.

***

Byleth is barely clinging to consciousness now, though she still squirms and whimpers almost piteously whenever he hits a particularly sweet spot inside her. He is lying behind her now, his front pressed so tightly against her back that her body heat causes him to sweat. One hand grips her thigh, holding her legs apart so he can enter her that way. He thrusts into her slowly but firmly, still erect but almost too exhausted to move. Still, he's determined to see this all the way through to the end, too habituated to the endless cycle of fuck, come, repeat that he's fallen into to stop until he's satisfied. He already feels the familiar tension low in his stomach starting to reach its height, about to unleash another orgasm on him.

"Ugh. Byleth I'm--" he doesn't have time to get the words out before he comes, this time in small weak spurts that don't compare to his previous ejaculations. His hand trembles as he lowers Byleth's leg, feeling utterly spent. He feels vaguely confused at that. How is he so weak that he can no longer support a woman's leg? Byleth usually weighs next to nothing to him. He soon gets his answer when, miraculously, he feels himself starting to go soft. He almost wants to cheer, though he has no energy left to do anything other than withdraw and flop down on the bed next to his wife. His mind spins and floats, at perfect peace for once.

Byleth looks over at him, confused as to why he doesn't continue. Her mouth opens in dull surprise when she catches sight of his limp cock nestled between his legs.

"We...did it," she says, clearly too tired to muster any real excitement. "How do you feel?"

"Amazing," Dimitri says with what little lucidity he has left. "We should try to do that more often, don't you think?"

Byleth grunts and nuzzles into his side, which he takes as approval. His last thought is of Derdriu-style cream-filled buns as he slings an arm around her and drifts off into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

***

Dimitri refuses to see anyone the following day, insisting that they spend the entire day sleeping and snuggling. Byleth starts off feeling heavy and somewhat battered, but the soreness and bruises fade as the day passes. By midday, she feels entirely normal, although she is hungrier than she has ever been in her life. When Dimitri comes in pushing another platter of food, she sits up in bed and starts devouring it at once, tearing straight into a loaf of bread with her teeth before wolfing down an entire chunk of cheese.

"I see becoming queen hasn't done anything for your table manners, my dove," Dimitri teases as he lays down beside her in his dressing gown.

"Hmph," Byleth says haughtily. "I'm not your queen. I'm the archbishop first, you know."

"Oh, are you certain?" Dimitri says, his smile grows wider. "Is that why you so enjoyed calling me Your Majesty the other day?"

Byleth flushes and flicks a crumb of cheese at him, only for him to catch her by the wrist and plant a chaste kiss on her hand. "My apologies, Your Grace," he says, looking up at her through his eyelashes. "Perhaps I can do something to earn your pardon?"

His hand begins to smooth up her inner thigh, and although they have been snuggling together all day, the contact leaves heat in its wake. "Are you really…" she says disbelievingly, her eyes scan his body before landing on an unmistakable outline in his robe.

"Hmm," is all Dimitri says. His hands creeping further up her legs to her sex, where he finds her still wet. Byleth gasps and lets her legs fall apart when one of his thick fingers sinks into her.

"Is that a yes, Your Grace?" he says, his voice rough with arousal.

Byleth can only manage a nod as he punctuates his question by slipping another finger into her. Dimitri crawls closer. His lips brush against her womanhood for a moment before he buries his head between her thighs to beg for her forgiveness.

***

Dimitri decides not to return to his duties through the end of the week. This is terribly selfish of him, of course, but Byleth insists that he deserves the chance to be selfish once in a while, and he allows himself to believe her. He starts to regret his several days long holiday when he returns to his study to find an absolutely massive stack of documents waiting for him at his desk, some of them bearing unpromising red tags. It is late when he finally makes his way back to the Royal Chamber to find Byleth practising faith magic spells in the antechamber.

They take a late supper together in comfortable silence until Byleth speaks up. "Everyone's been looking at me rather oddly lately."

Dimitri's head snaps up from his food, his eye narrowing dangerously as he asks, "Is someone troubling you, my love?"

Byleth laughs, a sweet, melodic noise that sets him at ease at once. "No, nothing like that," she says. "My father always used to say that there's no privacy in a castle. After the other night, they're probably wondering if I'm pregnant."

Dimitri's hand falters with his fork, driving it too hard into his meat and bending it in half against the platter beneath. "Ah," he says, trying not to sound too hopeful as he reaches for one of the spares. "Are you?"

Byleth isn't fooled by his act. "It's a bit early to tell, don't you think?" she says.

"Ah, of course, of course," he subsides. The room goes quiet again as they return to their suppers.

"I've noticed that we haven't seen a repeat of the Furoris incident since that night," Byleth says after another long pause.

A blush rises on his cheeks as he takes her meaning. Ever since he had satisfied himself that first night, his stamina had reduced to almost normal levels. He still wants to indulge himself in her every day, of course, but at least his body has learned to be reasonable. "Ah," he replies. "You mean I haven't been as...effusive."

"That's one way of putting it," Byleth says with a smile.

Dimitri feigns interest in his food so Byleth doesn't see his pink face. "Well, I suppose that I had just a lot of frustration to let out that night," he says.

"That makes sense," Byleth agrees. "What do you think will happen when I return to Garreg Mach, and we have to be apart for a month or two? Do you think your libido might return to how it was before then?"

"That definitely seems likely," Dimitri admits. "Is something the matter?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just that I was hoping to find a use for this," she says. To Dimitri's surprise, she slips her hand between her breasts and retrieves a phial of pink liquid. He doesn't need to be told what it is. Furoris. "I bought two of them just in case, although we ended up not needing the extra one. I didn't want to waste it since it was so expensive, but if I really am pregnant...Well, I hear it's not safe to consume this sort of thing when you're with child."

"Ah. In that case, it's probably best that you don't take it," Dimitri says. Although he is a bit disappointed to learn that there may not be any more magically fueled romps in his future, it's a reasonable concern.

"I won't," Byleth assures him, setting the potion down on the table in front of him with a bright smile. "Though I was hoping you would."

Dimitri blinks but reaches for the bottle. Tiny pink rose petals swirl around inside like a magical mist. "Well," he says, uncorking the potion. "I suppose it would be a shame to waste this."

Byleth winks at him. "Bottoms up."