Characters/Pairings: Inara/male client
Disclaimer: Firefly doesn’t belong to me.
A/N: Written for kink_las for the prompt “fetishes.” I got kicked out of the round for this, because it wasn’t very fetish-y, though I think it’s still very pretty. I was going for a goddess fetish.
Summary: Inara gives her clients something no one else could.
They came to her because she was beautiful.
The notes from the lute soared, echoing against the delicate woods and metals, softening against the rich silk hangings. It set the mood she desired, heightened the anticipation, making everything more special
Because she was above and beyond anyone they’d ever had.
Inara smiled as she set the instrument down, seeing the answering bliss on his face as he relaxed against the plush cushions. The cup of tea, half-finished, lay cooling on the table. All his attention was on her now, on every movement she made.
She could give them perfection.
His eyes were dark as he watched her robe fall away, sliding sleekly over her skin.
And here, her clients were safe. There was no pressure to have an avant garde specialty, so they could regale their friends with sordid tales of what they asked of their Companions. They did not have to give up on dreams and settle for less, not with her.
No scar marked her skin, no blemish to mar her beauty. Her hair was thick and rich under their hands, her body responsive, her hands graceful, and his pleasure, all-encompassing.
Inara had known and cared for her sister and brother Companions that tantalized their clients with leather, with silk, blindfolds, fire and ice, fine foods, feathers, or anything else plucked from the secret heart. But her own specialty was none of those.
“Please…” he whispered. “Please, let me.”
She knelt at his feet, the warm water dripping back in the basin from where she’d let it fall upon his flesh. A shake of her head, and he lay back, watching her with hungry eyes as she dried his feet and hands with a soft cloth. Now he was sanctified, prepared inside and out. He was worthy to touch her now.
Inara rose and gracefully stepped backward, knowing the candles were haloing her in a golden glow. A beckoning motion of her finger and he was in front of her, head bowed. Smiling beatifically, she lay a hand upon his head. She was not here to command him.
“I love you,” he gasped, cradling her in his arms. Inara felt him mold himself to her, crying out as she set them both soaring. It was just the revelation he’d come to find.
She was his goddess, and he’d come to worship at her altar.
And her congregation was vast.