Monologue Of Zelda Alternate Ending

There is no going back now. It is muddled, but somewhere Zelda knows this. Were she asked, she would say she did not want to go back. Gathering her courage, she drapes her leg over him, straddles him and lets him take in the sight of her where she sits. He looks tense and follows the curves of her neck and chest with his eyes. His fingers trace the same path until the find the laces of her trousers. Loosening them, he tugs her shirt free.

She lets him pull it away and hopes her blush hasn’t crept below the collar. She wears nothing underneath and worries at what he will find there. She worries her training has made her too hard, but Ganondorf’s fingers linger over the new muscle, traces them gently as if he wants to learn every inch of her.
She pushes at his robes, pulls and tugs until it pools at his ankles and then she draws herself up again to kiss his laughing mouth. Their tongues meet, her breasts pressing into his chest, skin at last, at last caressing skin. She lets her fingers wander, feeling the shape of him under the palm of her hand. Ganondorf groans in her ear and it’s like lightning down her spine. She shifts to alleviate the desire, the need, the hunger clawing at her. “I-I want,” she says but he stills her with his hands on her hips.

“Patience, Zelda. I will give you exactly what you want.”

He sits up, settling her into his lap, and pressing warm wet kisses along her jaw and down her neck. She can feel it now, like the dull thrum of a heartbeat, a delicious ache between her legs with every swipe of his tongue. Zelda tilts her head back, because she wants more, craves it like air. Ganondorf’s pace is an agonizing one, slow and steady while he tastes her, drinks deep of her, savors her. His hands, still at her hips, slide down her thighs, stops to cup her damp folds. He teases her with slow, gentle strokes of his fingers, until he thinks Zelda might come apart in his arms.

“Please,” she whispers, voice too raw to be recognizable, “Please, I