Her keenness is rewarded with the unfurling of a smile, tugging at his lips in a way that doesn't aim to conceal the feeling it provokes. With a metaphorical fist of control clenched tightly around what he must to make this work, he opens another, hand held out palm up in offer. He towers over her, not just in height but the broadness of his shoulders. It makes it necessary for him to duck to keep his head from striking the top of the tent she's pitched.
It leaves him stooping almost comically, even as he tries to maintain some level of secrecy from the rest of their campmates. No doubt at least a few of them are entertained at this very moment by it all.
As he catches her gaze, he can't help but contemplate how beautiful she is, a worthy detail to note and that he allows himself to fully revel in now they have uncovered his longing. From the colour of her skin to the tip of her tail, his desire to acquaint himself with the most minute of details cascades over into his headspace like an avalanche. That she puts her trust in him to know where the line is, he will long attempt to sabotage himself before he lets a lick of his other desires touch her.
She's assuming he knows a place, since she's going to follow. It makes her slightly regret not having splurged to book those rooms atop Elfsong, where the scene of the murder of Stelmane occurred.
Then again, she thinks, maybe they can find a nice place here. There are nice places in Baldur's Gate.
"Kinda miss that farm," she murmurs, referring to the one sprawling ruin on the hilltop before arriving to even Rivington. They'd only rested there for one night, and the aftermath of it had been gruesome - that fight against the githyanki in the astral prism, the bitter taste of allying with the Emperor despite realising every single interaction up until that point truly had been a lie... The farm had been nice.
She'll follow him anyway, not a stranger to the way his gaze wandered, raked over her like heated claws. She likes the way he looks at her. Wants to see how that will change, when there's fewer clothes in the way.
Not that her current campsite ensemble leaves much to the imagination. The top part of it especially, dipped low enough that it leaves her cleavage bare from the middle of her chest is barely disguising the ridges that mark her chest, her arms and her back. She hasn't felt itchy under constraints of scratchy cotton in a while though, and so she's not going to ever give this one up.
Loathe to lead her on too much of hike - they get plenty of walking in during daylight hours - their eventual destination isn't the most luxurious he could have found, but it is a step up from hay bales. As much as, between them, they could likely make it further if they don't dawdle, he doesn't want to drift too far from aid should they need it. Not for any other reason than if Ea needs backup, she has it close at hand. Forward planning seems to be the only way he can possibly allow himself this much.
"It was surprisingly dramatic," he eventually offers as their careful steps take them out of earshot of their companions, his icy eyes flicking to her, his grin one of humour. It had been more than any of them had anticipated, and so the idea of missing the place tickles something, darkly amused.
"I don't think we would make it there and back in time. Though at least there would have been more doors and walls providing privacy." His eyes sweep their surroundings - mostly the tall buildings and cobbled streets - out of habit before he returns to the conversation. The only option immediately available at camp is some kind of chapel, and even that has two points of entry. Hardly easy to find space enough to explore each other without the threat of an audience.
"Assuming you are able to remain quiet in certain circumstances?"
What sort of place of worship was this, she'd ask out loud if she had the headspace left to wonder about such trivial things.
But she doesn't. She's quick to exhale, letting out a soft laugh.
And here she thought he'd aim to make her scream his name in pleasure.
She does a full turn about the empty chapel, and comes to stand in front of him.
He does tower over her. Without the horns taken into account, she barely reaches his shoulder, so when she looks up at him, she really looks up.
That, and him asking if she's capable of remaining quiet (when she's sneaking around? You bet. During sex?) -
"That's a very hot question," she finally answers, grazing her teeth over her lower lip. "I can certainly try."
A beat, and Ea's hands come into play at last. She's touched him before - offered aid in battle, patted his shoulder or back in reassurance - but the way she delicately sets her hands over his chest right now different. Charged. "You have my permission to cover my mouth with something if it should become necessary."
Hands. Fingers. Hell, he could silence her with his cock, she would not protest to that at all.
"Are you going to kiss me now, or do I have to earn it?"
Edited (Last question needed an or what.) Date: 2024-08-22 01:43 pm (UTC)
With the doors pulled shut behind them, he could likely stand to check whether there's a way to bolt them closed. And yet it would require stepping away from his tiefling companion, and in the moment she's deciding whether or not she can keep her mouth shut, he drinks in the sight of her and decides he won't take a single step away until they are through.
"With something," he repeats and it isn't a question. The only question he'd had for her to start with had been the word she wished to use if she wanted him to stop. Any following queries he puts in won't need words to give him an idea of the answer.
He barely contains a wholly different kind of urge to tilt his head at her question, as though he's reminded that kissing is something that people enjoy but doesn't yet fully understand it. The blurred memories of his own experience - what he can remember now of what sex was like at the temple - never included kissing. Not as something pleasant. But any shame or embarrassment he may feel at not being accustomed to that kind of shared intimacy, it simply doesn't seem to exist within him.
Large hands attach themselves to her hips, fingers framing her slender waist as her hands settle at his chest. He dips down, though holds off at the last second sealing their lips together, just far enough away that he can still focus on her.
"I will kiss every inch of you until you are begging for more," he promises, his voice a low murmur, those fingers slipping beneath the bottom of her top to search for skin.
It's surely too soon in the night to have her toes curled in her boots, right? Or for the interested flick of her tail, or for the visible way her throat moves around a sudden knot in the hollow of it.
Clearly the charismatic one between the two of them. Because it all works. The hold, the approach - she holds her breath, lips parted in anticipation, and - he stalls again, and all she can think of is how much she'd like to trace that scar bisecting his lips with her tongue.
"More," she breathes out, and leans in to kiss him on the scar. Quick and easy and deceptively gentle. It's a second, not longer, and definitely not enough, so here she is. Begging for more. "Please."
Had he not possessed the level of control required to manage the yearning hunger gifted to him by a god, he likely wouldn't have been able to resist dipping in further. Barely contemplating it as a tease, of source of frustration, his lips quirk into a broader smile as she plants a quick kiss against his scar.
He can feel the difference in sensation, how it feels slightly more numb there but the neighbouring skin feels more sensitive as though compensating. If he thought about it for too long, maybe he'd find it odd that he doesn't remember where the scar came from. Not this one, anyway. The one on his head is a different story.
"Since you ask so politely," he all but whispers, for her ears only, and lifts both hands from her waist. Cupping her face surprisingly tenderly, he stoops down and coaxes her chin up so that he can slot his mouth against hers. Slow and languid at first, steadily building into something more heated as his body responds in kind.
By the time they break for air, his fingers have slipped down between them to tug at the cord holding her top against her frame. It's clear he wants the garments keeping her modest to melt off her until they're pooled at her feet.
She can't help the little moan at the actual kiss, nor the way that her eyes flutter closes. Her hands on his chest become fists grabbing his shirt, as that kiss progresses and by the time they break for air she wants to rip it off.
She takes her hands off him instead to reach behind her and unfasten the complicated mess of straps of her top, and thus make it easy for him to take it off.
Then she gets distracted with pulling at his clothes, her lips finding his scar again, and then his chin, his jawline. "Take it off." She nips at his jaw. "Please?"
Feeling the strength of her conviction line up toe-to-toe with his own, he doesn't wait for her to finish her second 'please'.
He doesn't particularly care if his shirt gets ripped, if her claws try to find purchase at the fabric, as he relies on his strength to rearrange their positions. Without much in the way of warning, he spins her around until she's facing away from him, his hands brushing the shoulders of her top free and not stopping until he's got her bare from the waist up.
His lips find the side of her neck, fingers grazing ribs and ridges until they slide over the swell of her breasts and he steps in closer to press the suggestion of his arousal against her small of her back, just above the base of her tail.
"You enjoy softening an order with a 'please'," he says against the shell of her ear, his fingers squeezing lightly before he turns the attention of his finger pads to drawing her nipples to hard points. What he says isn't a question, simply something he's noticed in their time together. It's fascinating, if not something he's curious enough about to explore. Though for now he's enjoying the feeling of her body framed by his from behind, the warmth of her skin beneath his usually dangerous hands turned adventurous.
She sucks in a soft breath when he turns her around, pure strength pitted against her meagre one - she doesn't offer any resistance, and it doesn't occur to her that she should because by now she trusts him. She entrusts herself in his hand.
And, as a side bar, it's really hot. He's big enough to make her feel small by comparison and sex is the only environment where that sort of thing has appeal. Woe be whoever tries to make her feel small outside of these type of moments; she might clip them, possibly with something sharp.
Her eyes flutter closed, head tilted to allow him access to her neck, every inch of her body coming awake at once. The heat between her legs, the tightness of her nipples, the knot in her throat.
She lets out a tiny whimper of a sound, then bites her lip to silence it. He's affected, she can feel it against the small of her back. The temptation to reach behind her and touch him is there but she is locked in place for the moment by his keen observation.
"Hah - guilty," she admits with a soft laugh, arching to press her breasts towards his hands. The back of her head rests against his shoulder, the bare side of her throat offered to him for more of those teasing touches. "It pays to be polite."
She looks down the length of her body, where his hands are paying attention to her breasts, the view a delicious contrast of colours. He's a canvas of freckles, isn't he? Freckles and scars - is he going to let her map them out too?
Not content with idle hands, she reaches behind her with her right hand, palming him through his pants.
Low laugh rumbling around his chest, especially as a clever hand slips between them and finds the thick outline of his cock, he doesn't mention in this moment how many cues he takes from her. Not just here, but also when they're out in the big wide world together as merely travel companions. No, it has been a little while since he thought of any of their campmates as just people he's travelling with. He's been there with them through their struggles just as much as they've all been there with him through his. A group of people so open to the notion of second chances that they allow a man like him, with a bloody history that outstrips them all, to stay. To be part of their little ragtag family.
"What we will do here doesn't have a place to stand on ceremony enough for politeness," he says and this time it's more of a growl, her attention at his growing arousal drawing more heat out of him.
His hands glide over the ridges of her torso, fingers working deftly at the form-fitting waistband of her trousers. Perhaps it seems unfair that he is unwrapping her like a gift and he is still fully clothed. But that's just part of handing control over to him. His own body is of less interest to him than that of his playmate.
"Though if you enjoy to beg, I would not part either of us from that delight," he adds, lips fastening at the crook of her bare neck in punctuation.
It would've been hypocritical of Ea to judge the bloodstains on everyone's hands, when her own past is marred with it. After all, she had her start in a criminal guild not all dissimilar to the Guild of Baldur's Gate, though Nine-Fingers Keene is a nicer Guildmaster than her old bastard. And how did that end, if not with twenty-years-old Ea poisoning the man who claimed he'd moulded her into who she was, a good spy and an even better killer, after he'd generously taken her off the streets? There's marred history and blood on everyone's hands, is the bottom line. She has made it a point to judge people by their current actions, not their pasts. She's not a stranger to crime, but she knows to recognise when someone's working on improving themselves.
They are a weird little ragtag family, aren't they? (Hopefully she's not expected to call him Daddy in that context, because she might laugh. Might.)
There's the rumble of a growl against her back that snaps her out of those thoughts, and a tremble runs through her from head to toes. What we will do here...
Fuck her, honestly. She lets out a little groan at his lips on her neck, her free hand reaching up to cradle the back of his head. "I'll beg," she promises softly, "you'll find that I'm so easy for it..." A beat longer. "Quiet or begging, darling? How do you want me?"
He switches sides, his mouth latching on to the previously unattended side of her neck as his fingers wiggle the fabric of her trousers down. Enough that the cool air of the disused chapel seeps against her skin where he reveals it. He uses sound as his cue that he's achieved his first goal, waiting for those clothes to hit the stone floor beneath before he's turning her on her heel again. Holds her well enough that she doesn't fall with the way her ankles are lashed together by her pooling trousers.
He barely has time to contemplate how pretty she is before his desire demands more.
Face to face again, he doesn't wait to stake a claim over her mouth as his hands run down the outside of her arms. Eventually they end up at her hips, rocking them forward to bring them flush up against his. He's still contained within his trousers and smallclothes, but the intent and desire is easily felt.
"I want to hear you," he eventually admits as he relinquishes her mouth to do precisely that, ducking down to start trailing kisses across to a shoulder and then down the centre of her chest, sucking briefly on ridges when he finds them. When he gets low enough - and it won't take long - he'll get to his knees, lips and tongue exploring every inch of her ribs and belly that he can see, just like he promised.
Rather than continue to try and touch him in this awkward position, she does them both a favour and undoes the clasp that holds her trousers up over her tail, so when he pushes them down her hips, they go. It's a blink-and-you'll-miss-it move, and she's clearly had the experience with it. (Her sleight of hand is exquisite.)
It's easy to get distracted, assaulted on all sides and all senses by pleasure as she is. She doesn't even have the chance to toe off her boots and shuck the trousers off completely, let alone reach back to touch him again, before she's spun around again.
Her surprised expression becomes one of smug triumph - "You sure love doing th - mmh," - and then all her words get consumed by the kiss. Yes. Perfect. She wraps her arms around his shoulders all so she can pull herself up on tiptoes and kiss him back, hungry and hard.
Speaking of.
"Fuck," she groans as soon as he breaks apart from her mouth, because he is. He's hard and she feels her mouth water with need - there are too many options for what she could do right now, so perhaps it's a good thing that he gets to decide the order of things.
He wants to hear her, so she doesn't bite back the moan that each suck on each of the ridges on her chest pulls out of her. He has no hair she can grab onto, no horns either, so she has to contend herself with giving him all the sounds instead. He drops to his knees, so she can hold onto his shoulders for balance.
Barely works; there's a kiss that he lands on one rib (where she got stabbed last week in a battle against his sister, the scar gone now, fully healed over, but) it sends a spark of something up her spine and makes her knees buckle.
"Gods... your mouth is something," she murmurs, frankly because she couldn't keep that thought inside even if she tried. "I love it."
Those lips pepper kisses across her abdomen as though he's worshipping at an altar, and it doesn't pass him by how much less destructive this kind of worship is. Beneath him, he blindly slips his fingers into the top of her boot, tugging both it and the trouser leg further down her calf until it's bunched at her ankle.
"Lift," he murmurs, pats her foot and chances an icy glance up her body as he prepares to take that boot and half her trousers off for her. It'll make what comes next a whole lot easier.
Maybe it's also easy enough to read in his gaze upwards that he's having a good time too. A hefty dose of fondness mixed in with a lot of chemistry, culminating in his desire to strip her naked and finally get intimately acquainted with her body, no blades in sight. Whatever dark whispers for violence may exist even now in his mind, they are eclipsed by his desire for her pleasure. His desire to enjoy pleasure with her.
And if they don't end up waking the others, it will be a small miracle.
She bites the inside of her cheek when she meets his gaze, lifting her foot automatically on request. Until he slips her boot and trousers off, she doesn't look away from him, so she doesn't miss that hint of a smile on his face.
Good, he should be having a good time. She would like to make sure of it, he's earned himself that.
She sets her bare foot down and raises one eyebrow.
"You like being the one moving my body, don't you, sweetheart?"
There are so many thoughts that fire through his mind at the same time that he momentarily pauses, his gaze meeting hers as his fingers stay at her now bare ankle. She knows his darkness, even if he doesn't share how viscerally disturbing it gets more often than not. The thrill that comes with it that makes him feel broken and whole in the same breath.
He pulls himself back to what remains the most important: she knows him. Knows that he battles it every moment of every day. And so, starting from that base, dark humour presents itself, as though part of him thinks she would enjoy the absurdness of his timing. The rise of an eyebrow to match hers, the twitch of his lips as he decides that if this is what ruins the mood, perhaps it wasn't going to work out anyway.
Her laugh practically gurgles out of her, her hands on his shoulders squeezing him tight. She sees where his mind went, sees him pull back to show her a softer underbelly - the sense of humour, the cute twitch of his lips and that mirrored expression - and likes it.
So much.
"Guess you'd better keep going, then," she whispers conspiratorially. "Wouldn't want to keep you from bragging." She wags her ankle at him, indicating he pull her other boot and pants off the rest of the way, but doesn't this time finish it with please.
There's no attempt to hide the warmth that floods his midwinter eyes as she not only accepts the humour but joins him in it. It feels beyond just a meeting of minds and, instead, as though she chooses to slip her hand into his own. In his peripheral vision, he sees her foot shake to get his attention, fingers blindly switching to that other leg to free her from her confines fully.
"Nobody likes a bragger."
He's grinning though, hands reaching up to rest at her outer thighs as he leans in, mouth pressing a kiss to her now pleasingly naked hip. He works a trail over her belly from one hip to the other, purposely not ducking lower just yet.
She needs to get some credit for managing to stand balanced on one foot for so long, because when he gets rid of her boot and pants she doesn't put her foot back down. Leaves it, toes barely pressed against the top of his thigh, maybe because she hopes he'll kiss the inside of her thigh or the top of her pubic mound, or lower.
So yes, praise her - except apparently nobody likes a bragger, and Ea just snorts at that. She likes a bragger.
"Confidence is hot," she reminds him, then her brain synapses fry a little when his lips land on her hip.
Oh. It lands on her, finally - she's naked. He's not. He's kneeling, and kissing her all reverentially and it's hypnotising. She doesn't know what to do with her hands, or what to do with her feet, all standing on precarious balance trying to get her thoughts unscrambled to form some sentence.
She gets what she wants sooner than he allows her to finish the word 'please'. Her toes against his thigh are a good start, but even as he glances up her body and watches her try to pull some semblance of control together, it feeds into his own arousal.
Much as he hasn't spent a great deal of time exploring his own preferences this side of the nautiloid, he can identify how much he enjoys - despite it being a controversial choice at the outset - people putting themselves in his hands.
A massive shoulder ducks between the back of her knee, opening her legs up for him just a little more and resting her calf at his upper back. Both hands are already bracing her from behind, holding her hips so that she doesn't topple over backwards.
And then he leans in, the kiss he's got reserved for the heat between her legs gentle at first, a threat of something more in the way he purposely peppers affection against her labia and avoids her clit, curious to see how long she can hold out before begging again.
"Oh." She doesn't expect him to just move her leg up over his shoulder, and at this point she should perhaps allow herself to be surprised more often. It has the instant effect of grabbing her by the throat, arousal thick enough she can choke on it. He kisses her gently, sending a shiver up Ea's spine in the instant of skin to skin contact.
His grip on her back and her arse is solid enough that she does not feel in danger of falling at any point, and as her tail snakes around one of his wrists and arm to keep him there, it hits her again. They're here, they're doing this.
"Oh - gods," she breathes out again, one hand moving from his shoulder to touch the back of his head, as gentle as his kisses are. She could hold out longer, but he said he'd like to hear her - so Ea doesn't bite back the soft pants for air, or the whimpered and impatient moans. Her throat closes around the swell of pleasure, but when it isn't enough - and it will not be enough - she lets him know: "You're...such a fucking tease...?"
Hopefully he wasn't expecting a sweet little princess type.
"Eat me out," she asks, and on the tip of her tongue is the need for a name, something to call him. The nicknames she has given him so far are insufficient, so: "Come on, sweetheart, please... Be nice."
If she gets the impression he grins against her most intimate of places, she wouldn't be wrong. He's never considered himself a tease, but if she says so then he'll take the feedback on board as something positive. Regardless of her requests, she seems to be having enough of a good time to convince him of that much.
And then she asks for what he's really between her legs for and he's keen to hear her really try and stifle her responses to having him explore her at depth. He wants to hear her struggle with controlling her response to pleasure and, ultimately, to fail.
On the tip of her tongue is a name he's never been called before, but on the tip of his is her. Her lips part around his attention, his first taste of her sending a bolt of arousal jumping to his cock. He dips his tongue deep enough to lick her out before tilting his head up to finish with a broad stripe over her clit. One that he repeats again before honing in on smaller licks over that sensitive bundle of nerves.
He liked that, did he? She can feel him smiling, and it draws one out of her as well, even as she lets her gaze move up towards the ceiling of this long-abandoned chappel.
She won't have the chance to focus on the holes in the roof, or the chipped paint, and thank fuck for that. Imagine coming here to have sex and it being so boring you fixate on what needs fixing in the construction of the place.
No, he's not boring. The last thing anyone could accuse him of.
So, he grins and she grins upwards, swell of pride for amusing him, and then he licks her open and she forgets her own name.
"Oh, fuck," she moans out, arching enough to cant her hips forward so he can go deeper if he wants to. Please, let him want to. She hasn't had someone's mouth on her pussy in what feels like years now, let alone someone who's become so precious to her.
Her knees actually buckle, her whole weight entrusted to his hands for a split second, because the attention to her clit is - "So good..." She's going to have to keep him, she hopes he knows that.
Hands catching her in the flash of a moment she needs him to, his fingers grip her tight enough there may be hints of evidence later. Much as he'd be more than open for her to straddle his face, here and now they're not completely prepared for it. And giving her a task in itself - try not to fold in half completely - while he lavishes her pussy with attention is a challenge he sets silently.
Hearing her moan does little to dissuade him, even contemplating that there are several people with keen hearing just beyond the door. They are both hot-blooded people, and it's almost amazing that it's taken them this long to find each other in this way.
Even as his tongue sweeps through her folds, as though he's trying to delve deeper inside of her, he's shifting his grip. One hand remains dutifully to support her while the other slips between her legs, fingertips teasing at her wetness - now half her own arousal and half his saliva. Only when his mouth fastens over her clit and sucks do two fingers breach her, pressing into the heat of her body assertively.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-08-22 09:33 am (UTC)It leaves him stooping almost comically, even as he tries to maintain some level of secrecy from the rest of their campmates. No doubt at least a few of them are entertained at this very moment by it all.
As he catches her gaze, he can't help but contemplate how beautiful she is, a worthy detail to note and that he allows himself to fully revel in now they have uncovered his longing. From the colour of her skin to the tip of her tail, his desire to acquaint himself with the most minute of details cascades over into his headspace like an avalanche. That she puts her trust in him to know where the line is, he will long attempt to sabotage himself before he lets a lick of his other desires touch her.
"Then follow me."
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Date: 2024-08-22 09:58 am (UTC)Then again, she thinks, maybe they can find a nice place here. There are nice places in Baldur's Gate.
"Kinda miss that farm," she murmurs, referring to the one sprawling ruin on the hilltop before arriving to even Rivington. They'd only rested there for one night, and the aftermath of it had been gruesome - that fight against the githyanki in the astral prism, the bitter taste of allying with the Emperor despite realising every single interaction up until that point truly had been a lie... The farm had been nice.
She'll follow him anyway, not a stranger to the way his gaze wandered, raked over her like heated claws. She likes the way he looks at her. Wants to see how that will change, when there's fewer clothes in the way.
Not that her current campsite ensemble leaves much to the imagination. The top part of it especially, dipped low enough that it leaves her cleavage bare from the middle of her chest is barely disguising the ridges that mark her chest, her arms and her back. She hasn't felt itchy under constraints of scratchy cotton in a while though, and so she's not going to ever give this one up.
no subject
Date: 2024-08-22 01:10 pm (UTC)"It was surprisingly dramatic," he eventually offers as their careful steps take them out of earshot of their companions, his icy eyes flicking to her, his grin one of humour. It had been more than any of them had anticipated, and so the idea of missing the place tickles something, darkly amused.
"I don't think we would make it there and back in time. Though at least there would have been more doors and walls providing privacy." His eyes sweep their surroundings - mostly the tall buildings and cobbled streets - out of habit before he returns to the conversation. The only option immediately available at camp is some kind of chapel, and even that has two points of entry. Hardly easy to find space enough to explore each other without the threat of an audience.
"Assuming you are able to remain quiet in certain circumstances?"
the sex chapel makes a comeback, nice
Date: 2024-08-22 01:42 pm (UTC)But she doesn't. She's quick to exhale, letting out a soft laugh.
And here she thought he'd aim to make her scream his name in pleasure.
She does a full turn about the empty chapel, and comes to stand in front of him.
He does tower over her. Without the horns taken into account, she barely reaches his shoulder, so when she looks up at him, she really looks up.
That, and him asking if she's capable of remaining quiet (when she's sneaking around? You bet. During sex?) -
"That's a very hot question," she finally answers, grazing her teeth over her lower lip. "I can certainly try."
A beat, and Ea's hands come into play at last. She's touched him before - offered aid in battle, patted his shoulder or back in reassurance - but the way she delicately sets her hands over his chest right now different. Charged. "You have my permission to cover my mouth with something if it should become necessary."
Hands. Fingers. Hell, he could silence her with his cock, she would not protest to that at all.
"Are you going to kiss me now, or do I have to earn it?"
lmfao I have not heard that before but it's spot on
Date: 2024-08-22 02:24 pm (UTC)"With something," he repeats and it isn't a question. The only question he'd had for her to start with had been the word she wished to use if she wanted him to stop. Any following queries he puts in won't need words to give him an idea of the answer.
He barely contains a wholly different kind of urge to tilt his head at her question, as though he's reminded that kissing is something that people enjoy but doesn't yet fully understand it. The blurred memories of his own experience - what he can remember now of what sex was like at the temple - never included kissing. Not as something pleasant. But any shame or embarrassment he may feel at not being accustomed to that kind of shared intimacy, it simply doesn't seem to exist within him.
Large hands attach themselves to her hips, fingers framing her slender waist as her hands settle at his chest. He dips down, though holds off at the last second sealing their lips together, just far enough away that he can still focus on her.
"I will kiss every inch of you until you are begging for more," he promises, his voice a low murmur, those fingers slipping beneath the bottom of her top to search for skin.
no subject
Date: 2024-08-22 02:32 pm (UTC)Clearly the charismatic one between the two of them. Because it all works. The hold, the approach - she holds her breath, lips parted in anticipation, and - he stalls again, and all she can think of is how much she'd like to trace that scar bisecting his lips with her tongue.
"More," she breathes out, and leans in to kiss him on the scar. Quick and easy and deceptively gentle. It's a second, not longer, and definitely not enough, so here she is. Begging for more. "Please."
no subject
Date: 2024-08-22 09:21 pm (UTC)He can feel the difference in sensation, how it feels slightly more numb there but the neighbouring skin feels more sensitive as though compensating. If he thought about it for too long, maybe he'd find it odd that he doesn't remember where the scar came from. Not this one, anyway. The one on his head is a different story.
"Since you ask so politely," he all but whispers, for her ears only, and lifts both hands from her waist. Cupping her face surprisingly tenderly, he stoops down and coaxes her chin up so that he can slot his mouth against hers. Slow and languid at first, steadily building into something more heated as his body responds in kind.
By the time they break for air, his fingers have slipped down between them to tug at the cord holding her top against her frame. It's clear he wants the garments keeping her modest to melt off her until they're pooled at her feet.
no subject
Date: 2024-08-22 09:44 pm (UTC)She takes her hands off him instead to reach behind her and unfasten the complicated mess of straps of her top, and thus make it easy for him to take it off.
Then she gets distracted with pulling at his clothes, her lips finding his scar again, and then his chin, his jawline. "Take it off." She nips at his jaw. "Please?"
no subject
Date: 2024-08-22 10:13 pm (UTC)He doesn't particularly care if his shirt gets ripped, if her claws try to find purchase at the fabric, as he relies on his strength to rearrange their positions. Without much in the way of warning, he spins her around until she's facing away from him, his hands brushing the shoulders of her top free and not stopping until he's got her bare from the waist up.
His lips find the side of her neck, fingers grazing ribs and ridges until they slide over the swell of her breasts and he steps in closer to press the suggestion of his arousal against her small of her back, just above the base of her tail.
"You enjoy softening an order with a 'please'," he says against the shell of her ear, his fingers squeezing lightly before he turns the attention of his finger pads to drawing her nipples to hard points. What he says isn't a question, simply something he's noticed in their time together. It's fascinating, if not something he's curious enough about to explore. Though for now he's enjoying the feeling of her body framed by his from behind, the warmth of her skin beneath his usually dangerous hands turned adventurous.
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Date: 2024-08-23 08:59 am (UTC)And, as a side bar, it's really hot. He's big enough to make her feel small by comparison and sex is the only environment where that sort of thing has appeal. Woe be whoever tries to make her feel small outside of these type of moments; she might clip them, possibly with something sharp.
Her eyes flutter closed, head tilted to allow him access to her neck, every inch of her body coming awake at once. The heat between her legs, the tightness of her nipples, the knot in her throat.
She lets out a tiny whimper of a sound, then bites her lip to silence it. He's affected, she can feel it against the small of her back. The temptation to reach behind her and touch him is there but she is locked in place for the moment by his keen observation.
"Hah - guilty," she admits with a soft laugh, arching to press her breasts towards his hands. The back of her head rests against his shoulder, the bare side of her throat offered to him for more of those teasing touches. "It pays to be polite."
She looks down the length of her body, where his hands are paying attention to her breasts, the view a delicious contrast of colours. He's a canvas of freckles, isn't he? Freckles and scars - is he going to let her map them out too?
Not content with idle hands, she reaches behind her with her right hand, palming him through his pants.
"I can be very polite."
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Date: 2024-08-23 09:36 am (UTC)"What we will do here doesn't have a place to stand on ceremony enough for politeness," he says and this time it's more of a growl, her attention at his growing arousal drawing more heat out of him.
His hands glide over the ridges of her torso, fingers working deftly at the form-fitting waistband of her trousers. Perhaps it seems unfair that he is unwrapping her like a gift and he is still fully clothed. But that's just part of handing control over to him. His own body is of less interest to him than that of his playmate.
"Though if you enjoy to beg, I would not part either of us from that delight," he adds, lips fastening at the crook of her bare neck in punctuation.
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Date: 2024-08-23 10:07 am (UTC)They are a weird little ragtag family, aren't they? (Hopefully she's not expected to call him Daddy in that context, because she might laugh. Might.)
There's the rumble of a growl against her back that snaps her out of those thoughts, and a tremble runs through her from head to toes. What we will do here...
Fuck her, honestly. She lets out a little groan at his lips on her neck, her free hand reaching up to cradle the back of his head. "I'll beg," she promises softly, "you'll find that I'm so easy for it..." A beat longer. "Quiet or begging, darling? How do you want me?"
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Date: 2024-08-23 11:34 am (UTC)He barely has time to contemplate how pretty she is before his desire demands more.
Face to face again, he doesn't wait to stake a claim over her mouth as his hands run down the outside of her arms. Eventually they end up at her hips, rocking them forward to bring them flush up against his. He's still contained within his trousers and smallclothes, but the intent and desire is easily felt.
"I want to hear you," he eventually admits as he relinquishes her mouth to do precisely that, ducking down to start trailing kisses across to a shoulder and then down the centre of her chest, sucking briefly on ridges when he finds them. When he gets low enough - and it won't take long - he'll get to his knees, lips and tongue exploring every inch of her ribs and belly that he can see, just like he promised.
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Date: 2024-08-23 01:23 pm (UTC)It's easy to get distracted, assaulted on all sides and all senses by pleasure as she is. She doesn't even have the chance to toe off her boots and shuck the trousers off completely, let alone reach back to touch him again, before she's spun around again.
Her surprised expression becomes one of smug triumph - "You sure love doing th - mmh," - and then all her words get consumed by the kiss. Yes. Perfect. She wraps her arms around his shoulders all so she can pull herself up on tiptoes and kiss him back, hungry and hard.
Speaking of.
"Fuck," she groans as soon as he breaks apart from her mouth, because he is. He's hard and she feels her mouth water with need - there are too many options for what she could do right now, so perhaps it's a good thing that he gets to decide the order of things.
He wants to hear her, so she doesn't bite back the moan that each suck on each of the ridges on her chest pulls out of her. He has no hair she can grab onto, no horns either, so she has to contend herself with giving him all the sounds instead. He drops to his knees, so she can hold onto his shoulders for balance.
Barely works; there's a kiss that he lands on one rib (where she got stabbed last week in a battle against his sister, the scar gone now, fully healed over, but) it sends a spark of something up her spine and makes her knees buckle.
"Gods... your mouth is something," she murmurs, frankly because she couldn't keep that thought inside even if she tried. "I love it."
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Date: 2024-08-23 03:51 pm (UTC)"Lift," he murmurs, pats her foot and chances an icy glance up her body as he prepares to take that boot and half her trousers off for her. It'll make what comes next a whole lot easier.
Maybe it's also easy enough to read in his gaze upwards that he's having a good time too. A hefty dose of fondness mixed in with a lot of chemistry, culminating in his desire to strip her naked and finally get intimately acquainted with her body, no blades in sight. Whatever dark whispers for violence may exist even now in his mind, they are eclipsed by his desire for her pleasure. His desire to enjoy pleasure with her.
And if they don't end up waking the others, it will be a small miracle.
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Date: 2024-08-23 04:27 pm (UTC)Good, he should be having a good time. She would like to make sure of it, he's earned himself that.
She sets her bare foot down and raises one eyebrow.
"You like being the one moving my body, don't you, sweetheart?"
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Date: 2024-08-24 03:50 pm (UTC)He pulls himself back to what remains the most important: she knows him. Knows that he battles it every moment of every day. And so, starting from that base, dark humour presents itself, as though part of him thinks she would enjoy the absurdness of his timing. The rise of an eyebrow to match hers, the twitch of his lips as he decides that if this is what ruins the mood, perhaps it wasn't going to work out anyway.
Does she trust him?
"I have a lot of experience with moving bodies."
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Date: 2024-08-24 04:58 pm (UTC)So much.
"Guess you'd better keep going, then," she whispers conspiratorially. "Wouldn't want to keep you from bragging." She wags her ankle at him, indicating he pull her other boot and pants off the rest of the way, but doesn't this time finish it with please.
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Date: 2024-08-25 10:11 am (UTC)"Nobody likes a bragger."
He's grinning though, hands reaching up to rest at her outer thighs as he leans in, mouth pressing a kiss to her now pleasingly naked hip. He works a trail over her belly from one hip to the other, purposely not ducking lower just yet.
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Date: 2024-08-25 10:27 am (UTC)So yes, praise her - except apparently nobody likes a bragger, and Ea just snorts at that. She likes a bragger.
"Confidence is hot," she reminds him, then her brain synapses fry a little when his lips land on her hip.
Oh. It lands on her, finally - she's naked. He's not. He's kneeling, and kissing her all reverentially and it's hypnotising. She doesn't know what to do with her hands, or what to do with her feet, all standing on precarious balance trying to get her thoughts unscrambled to form some sentence.
All that comes our is, "Please."
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Date: 2024-08-28 07:25 am (UTC)Much as he hasn't spent a great deal of time exploring his own preferences this side of the nautiloid, he can identify how much he enjoys - despite it being a controversial choice at the outset - people putting themselves in his hands.
A massive shoulder ducks between the back of her knee, opening her legs up for him just a little more and resting her calf at his upper back. Both hands are already bracing her from behind, holding her hips so that she doesn't topple over backwards.
And then he leans in, the kiss he's got reserved for the heat between her legs gentle at first, a threat of something more in the way he purposely peppers affection against her labia and avoids her clit, curious to see how long she can hold out before begging again.
comes our? /sighs at self
Date: 2024-08-28 09:35 am (UTC)His grip on her back and her arse is solid enough that she does not feel in danger of falling at any point, and as her tail snakes around one of his wrists and arm to keep him there, it hits her again. They're here, they're doing this.
"Oh - gods," she breathes out again, one hand moving from his shoulder to touch the back of his head, as gentle as his kisses are. She could hold out longer, but he said he'd like to hear her - so Ea doesn't bite back the soft pants for air, or the whimpered and impatient moans. Her throat closes around the swell of pleasure, but when it isn't enough - and it will not be enough - she lets him know: "You're...such a fucking tease...?"
Hopefully he wasn't expecting a sweet little princess type.
"Eat me out," she asks, and on the tip of her tongue is the need for a name, something to call him. The nicknames she has given him so far are insufficient, so: "Come on, sweetheart, please... Be nice."
<3
Date: 2024-08-28 10:25 am (UTC)And then she asks for what he's really between her legs for and he's keen to hear her really try and stifle her responses to having him explore her at depth. He wants to hear her struggle with controlling her response to pleasure and, ultimately, to fail.
On the tip of her tongue is a name he's never been called before, but on the tip of his is her. Her lips part around his attention, his first taste of her sending a bolt of arousal jumping to his cock. He dips his tongue deep enough to lick her out before tilting his head up to finish with a broad stripe over her clit. One that he repeats again before honing in on smaller licks over that sensitive bundle of nerves.
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Date: 2024-08-28 10:46 am (UTC)She won't have the chance to focus on the holes in the roof, or the chipped paint, and thank fuck for that. Imagine coming here to have sex and it being so boring you fixate on what needs fixing in the construction of the place.
No, he's not boring. The last thing anyone could accuse him of.
So, he grins and she grins upwards, swell of pride for amusing him, and then he licks her open and she forgets her own name.
"Oh, fuck," she moans out, arching enough to cant her hips forward so he can go deeper if he wants to. Please, let him want to. She hasn't had someone's mouth on her pussy in what feels like years now, let alone someone who's become so precious to her.
Her knees actually buckle, her whole weight entrusted to his hands for a split second, because the attention to her clit is - "So good..." She's going to have to keep him, she hopes he knows that.
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Date: 2024-08-28 12:42 pm (UTC)Hearing her moan does little to dissuade him, even contemplating that there are several people with keen hearing just beyond the door. They are both hot-blooded people, and it's almost amazing that it's taken them this long to find each other in this way.
Even as his tongue sweeps through her folds, as though he's trying to delve deeper inside of her, he's shifting his grip. One hand remains dutifully to support her while the other slips between her legs, fingertips teasing at her wetness - now half her own arousal and half his saliva. Only when his mouth fastens over her clit and sucks do two fingers breach her, pressing into the heat of her body assertively.
one hundred icons of just his mouth, eh? i see you, villain
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