Chapter 8: Jean

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Diluc smelled warm and comforting, like logs popping in a fire, with a slight tang of alcohol. Probably the Dandelion Wine he had drunk at the tavern, but right now, Jean had other things on her mind.

Other things, like how close Diluc and her were. He was panting slightly, braced on the countertop, between her legs. Jean was fully aware of how messy her hair was, and that she probably looked like an Anemo Samachurl had beaten her up with mini-tornadoes, but she couldn't find the energy to care.

Diluc had stopped tantalizingly close to her lips, and his eyes were focused on them with such an intensity that it took Jean's breath away. He was stopping, giving her the choice, whether she wanted to stop now.

So close, so close, so close.

Jean leaned forward and put her mouth on his.

Diluc groaned and pressed his warm, solid body against hers. Skies, he was so close, and this shirt he was wearing was driving Jean crazy. She ran her fingertips over his arms, up his shoulders, to cup his face.

They were moving together at a feverish pace, lips and tongues and teeth. Diluc's hand pulled Jean's hair out of its tight ponytail, and he fingered the blond strands. 

His head dipped lower, moving up the side of her neck. Diluc's soft mouth found that perfect spot right behind Jean's ear, and she tipped her head back and moaned. 

"Mm, finally found the right spot." Diluc murmured against her skin. Jean couldn't find the energy to reply. 

"D-Diluc," she whispered, voice hoarse and rough. Jean moved even closer, pressing her entire body up against him. She couldn't get enough, would never have enough. A sizable bulge pressed against her, and her breath was taken away by how large he was.

"Say my name again, Jean." The sound of her name from his mouth, while his fingers were dancing up her waist and on the inside of her thigh, was more than enough.

"Diluc," she moaned, not caring who heard. Diluc made an appreciative sound and skated his fingers up the inside of her thigh.

"Is- Is this okay?" He asked, a slight tremor to his sandpapery voice. Jean was surprised by how gentle he was being.

"Of course," Jean said, burying her face against his crimson hair. His fingers slipped inside her pants, dipping into the slickness he already found there.

"So wet for me already, Jean." Diluc whispered against her mouth. "Are you always this wet for me?" Jean nodded quickly.

Diluc's fingers stroked her, again and again and again, until Jean exploded. It hadn't taken much to bring her to this point, as she came on Diluc's countertop. 

What she wasn't expecting was the look on Diluc's face as he stared at her. His eyes were wide like he had just witnessed a holy miracle. 

"Master Diluc, I-" Jean began, but she was cut off by a knocking on the door. 

Diluc opened the door to find Elzer, who had just finished up some paperwork late, apparently. 

Jean waved at him awkwardly. Diluc sighed and closed the door.

"Sorry about that, I wasn't expecting him so late. You know how Elzer is, always working so hard. Just like someone else I know," Diluc added, smiling softly at Jean. It was more than she could bear.

"I-, I should go, too. It's getting late." Jean smoothed herself out, avoiding Diluc's eyes. She was worried that she would find regret in his eyes, or the signs of a mistake. If he regretted doing this, Jean didn't know what she would do. 

"Jean, wait, I-" Diluc began.

"I really have to go, it's late." Jean grabbed her coat and dashed out the door.

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