[ooc: Warning! SMUT!]

[locks_it_up]

Her place, then.

It's not much changed, because this is the way she likes it, by and large. There's sunlight slanting through the windows, deep gold and warm, because she likes that, too.

It's almost shy, the way she leads him toward her bedroom. The bed's a little messy, red and pink and purple, with a stuffed turtle laying near the pillows.

Comments

[locks_it_up]

Oh, that is supremely pleasant. She forgot how incredibly sensitive those jiggly bits can be.

"Mammary glands are nifty. I kind of like 'em."

The hand twined with his goes to play the back of her knuckles along his ribcage, a breath taken and let out in a contented sigh.

Her eyes focus up and out.

"Baby?"

Her voice is tender, soft like raw silk. Maybe too gentle.

[mnt_raph]

mmm. i suppose. gotta say i like who they're attached to more.

*With that he gives her as close to a full body squeeze as he can from this angle. And as luck would have it, midway through this, he hears the her call to him with a voice that can't possibly be good.*

hmm?

[locks_it_up]

"They do interesting things when handled correctly."

She melts into it, as best she can, nestled against him. Warmth and sweat and his pulse reflected soft back at him through her skin.

Her own heart runs at a rhythm beyond any mortal perception.

"Do you miss it? The shell?"

The mercy of the world hides in between the words.

[mnt_raph]

*Closing his eyes, he takes a breath that he wishes would fill him and replace the doubt. It doesn't. It's just air. So he releases it to be what it's supposed to be. Just air.*

sometimes...i guess.

I mean, there are pros and cons for everything, right? But this? It's what I've always wanted, you know?

*In other times and places, he might close that thought with But it's just not enough.*

[locks_it_up]

Someday, she will have to give him back to her big brother. She knows this. Nothing lasts forever. That's sort of her department, really.

And as for herself... she can feel millions of lives starting and stopping, and she is there for every one of them, at every moment. Someday...

...but not today.

Today, she is curled up with the one she loves.

She smiles softly at him. "I know."

And maybe the memory of this will keep her warm.

She shifts to put her hand on his cheek and her lips to his.

[mnt_raph]

*This might very well be the first time he's spoken these words to another person, and he's quite pleased at the result. There was no scorn. No derision. Just open acceptance and affection. Love is indeed a beautiful thing.

Returning the gratitude in a long, slow kiss that only deepens with time. His hand sliding its way down her body to rest on her hip. Fingers curling around curve. Encouraging her to move. To face him.*

[locks_it_up]

Which, of course, she does. One arm slips around him, fingers resting in the small of his back, the length of her body pressed against his.

She whimpers at the sweetness of it. His hands and his mouth and his body and being loved, the way a woman is loved by a man. It is precious, and she treasures every part of it.

[mnt_raph]

*His knee finds his way between hers. Lifting her leg so it drapes of his hip. His hand rests on the small of her back, fingers outstretched.

He pulls away from the kiss, to press a string of smaller ones along her jaw. Working his way to the soft flesh of her neck. Well placed nibbles that come close to crossing the line between adoration to worship.*

[locks_it_up]

"Ohhh..."

Her mouth near his ear, breath warm. She clings to him, arms and legs wrapped as tightly as she can. Lips and teeth on supremely sensitive skin, and she shivers against him.

More. She wants more. There can never be enough of this.

Her hand makes its way slow and trembling up his back, fingers finding and tracing every scar, remembering how they got there, how she walked with him even then.

[mnt_raph]

*His back arches in retaliation against the slow and trembling assult on the flesh of his back. It only serves to bring the two of them closer together, if that's even possible by this point. And still, not enough.

More. Must have more.*

Harder

*He says before moving his mouth back to hers with a kiss both frantic and demanding.*

[locks_it_up]

Her nails, then, tracing down his back, maybe harder than is absolutely neccessary.

Her teeth slide against his for an instant before warmth and wet and fierce need.

She growls playfully into his mouth. "On your knees, mortal..."

[mnt_raph]

yes ma'am

*A playful smile on his lips.
He untwines himself from her.
Slow sinuous movement. Rolling. Shifting his weight on the leg currently nestled between her thighs.
His eyes never leave hers as his hands ply her knees further apart. Just enough for his other leg.
He kneels before her, but is not done quite yet. Those same hands continue to move. One behind her head, the other to support her lower back. Lifting her. Bringing her closer. To eye level.

Her legs around him. His arms around her. He smirks.*

What would you have me do, Lady?

[locks_it_up]

"Well, one, don't ever call me that ever again." She's heard it from too many people. Not from him. Not ever from him.

Her hands across his shoulders, smiling.

"I'd have you be nice."

A kiss to the tip of his nose. She glances down between them and smiles a little, then looks back up at him, grinning like a kid doing something she shouldn't be doing.

[mnt_raph]

*The hand behind her neck slowly drifts to just under her bottom, holding her more securely on his lap.*

Yes ma'am. Can I call you schnooky-ookums instead?

*Heart racing, skin flush, and yet he still finds time for jokes. For that she shifts and squeezes. His breath catches.*

aren't...are...aren't i always nice?

[locks_it_up]

"For a given value of nice."

She leans over to kiss the underside of his jaw, fingers tracing over his chest, hovering over his heart.

She takes comfort in the rhythm.

Her lips near his ear. "And I meant... on the floor. If you would. Please."

[mnt_raph]

*You can almost see him mouth the words on the floor before the idea integrates into a format he understands. Blushing slightly, which is impressive when he's already quite pink to begin with, he lowers her back to the comfort of the bed, her legs hanging over the side where he has disappeared. Or rather, where most of him has disappeared.

Hands tracing a winding route across her shins, up towards her knees, and over to the outsides of her thighs, ending with one hand on each hip.

A kiss placed on the inside of each knee. His The warmth of his torso on her legs. Warm breath on warmer flesh. Nestled kisses. Languid exploration.*

[locks_it_up]

Now, breathing is not an act that she usually participates in. But she does it now. With great difficulty.

His lips... oh lord. That nose does come in quite handy, doesn't it? The warm sweep of his tongue across the center of her-- it forces a strangled cry from her throat.

She tries to watch him, to see this in action, but it's impossible. There is only this incredible sensation.

[mnt_raph]

*One hand drifts from her hip to the center of her chest. It pushes her down flat on the bed. An action that tells her no watching. The hand lingers a moment, before retreating.

And with that a new sensation joins the fray. Keeping time with the rest of him, as he tries to keep in time with her.

All the while there's one hand making lazy circles on the skin just slightly above her hip.*

[locks_it_up]

It takes quite a bit of willpower to stop her hips from bucking wildly.

Hands and mouth and sweet, sweet rhythm and she tightens around his fingers, her own hands clawing for some sort of purchase in the rumpled sheets of the bed.

She moans in time with what he's doing to her. There's no heaven she can cry to, so she cries his name instead, when she can get her throat to make noises that can loosely be identified as words.

[mnt_raph]

*Every cry from her makes it that much more difficult for him to concentrate. Hearing her like that. Seeing her like this. Spread out before him. Calling his name. It's a good thing he's already on his knees.

He doesn't deviate from his course or his timing. He can't, not with a response this good.*

[locks_it_up]

Her back arches off the bed, and she cries like a thing in pain.

Her head is thrown back, and her eyes, not truly focused, nonetheless land on the stuffed turtle that has sadly been knocked into a corner.

She tries to gasp against that sensual assault, that wet-on-wet and sweet depth, almost touching something deep within her. So very close.

If words make it out, they might well be something like 'you' 'inside' 'me' and 'please.'

[mnt_raph]

*It's just one of those orders/commands that you can't refuse.

There is one final loving kiss, before he rocks backwards, weight shifting from his knees to his feet. One hand maintains its stride, while the back of the other indelicately wipes at his mouth.

On unsteady legs, knees weak at the sight of her, he moves from the floor to the bed. Flesh on flesh, slick with perspiration. An arm bracing himself so as to save her from his full weight.

Slow and gentle, anticipation killing them both, he presses flesh into flesh. Any illusion of control is now lost.*

[locks_it_up]

She tries, again, to breathe.

It catches in her throat.

The warmth, yes, and the slickness of her skin on his, yes, and she can feel the throbbing pulse of him all through her, yes, hard and hot and yes.

She moves with him now, in a dance that she has seen from the beginning, and oh how lovely the steps, moving now with him, around him, fingers splayed over that battered and brief flesh that she knows so well.

The syllables that try to find their way out of her throat are all affirmation.

[mnt_raph]

*It's all her. Every sight. Every smell. Every sensation. All her. He would gladly lose himself in her. In this. It could be almost discribed as pure joy, if not for the driving need for more.

More pressure. More friction. More of those sweet noises that escape from her lips, the ones that sound like his name.*

[locks_it_up]

She takes her time with this. Takes him deep within her, moves her hips in time with a pulse and a rhythm almost as old as she is.

She's shaking, her arms around him, her body pressed against his, and she arches her throat up to moan his name into his ear. His real name.

Oh the depth. Oh. Oh, lord, he's inside of her and moving, moving, and she can feel every inch of him and it's still not quite enough and she strains her hips against his and--

--and they fit. Against all logic and against her brother's book, they fit.

The sound from her throat is like a song. The way her body shudders and the way she tightens around him is the warmest embrace she can give.