( rafayel is a revelation, a collection of mysteries, heartache, and a glimmer of joy amongst the unknowable ocean of impossible depths. in this moment, she feels closer to him than she ever has, feels as if she can unravel him and know his thoughts, to figure out what makes him tick.
his hands are warm, searching, setting every sense alight as he explores. there are scars from endless fights and long-forgotten memories, so many of them faded into the canvas; but others can still be felt, and she can't help a surge of self-consciousness whenever his touch brushes them. still, she buries it, distracted by the way he tears up the lace. )
Raf —
( the chide is half-hearted at best, breathless and filled with longing, her gaze hungry and lidded. she gasps, squeezing tight and tensing when she feels those elegant, beautiful fingers push inside of her slippery-slick cunt. she grips him tightly, as if she's been afforded something she's long been craving, and she shivers, leaning down with flushed cheeks, her other hand curling in his hair.
she slips her hand down, down, unzipping and freeing him from the confines of his pants, and is suddenly reminded of that time he'd been in heat, how he'd craved touch, and she nudges her nose against his so she can claim his lips to kiss him, heated and wanting. )
No. They're not enough. Oh — ( she's nearly slurring against his lips, enthralled by his skill. ) Please... deeper. You're so close — ( then, a soft little smile. )
Give me both, tonight. Do you — do you need to be in the tub...?
[ in moments like these, he's never quite sure what kiyomi is thinking of? is she thinking of him? does she desire him as much as he does? even with their bond, he isn't sure if what he feels are really her emotions, or if his own are simply consuming him; making it impossible to discern where his starts and hers begin. but, he likes teetering on that line; his urges uncontrollable, and even now he doesn't realize how much he wants his lips on hers.
the way she tightens around his fingers makes him feel a natural rise of heat. he feels it in his breath, and the way he draws his mouth so closely against her skin. he breathes right against her ear, as if perpetuating exactly how much he needed her. almost as if he's begging her.
her reactions are enthralling. it's almost as if she knows exactly how to incite his appetite— from the way she draws in a breath to the way her back arches. when she meets him in another kiss, he returns with equal fervor. his tongue swirling against hers as his half-lidded eyes looks down at her throat, eagerly watching to see if she swallows every bit of his spit down. his fingers enter in and out of her with a quickened pace as his thumb rubs up against her clit with each motion. he can barely make out her words between their heated exchange, and only when he pulls his lips away does he speak: ] Deeper... Is it here? [ his fingers are obviously teasing her, even stopping just shy of reaching the places she likes the most. ] Or here? Your Highness is so picky. [ sudden roleplaying aside,
his eyes do seem to twinkle with a bit of surprise at her following words. but, he does release something between a pained huff and a laugh. ] Oh, so you think I can wait that long? [ he says this, even while they both know he'd give into her every whim. ]
( she thinks of him, only him — but the man before her is blurring, like an image out of focus from time to time. in a heartbeat, she catches the briefest glimpse of a mirror image of him, pearls and jewels on his cheeks and tears in his eyes. in another moment, another rafayel, clad in garments and inscriptions she doesn't understand.
she blinks, and he's back again. artist, painter, lemurian. an impossible, beautiful creature who is as mysterious as he is passionate, and she can't shake the feeling that she's known him for much, much longer than their first meeting. and she can't shake the awareness that he's holding himself back, just a little.
but then it all melts away in the haze of pleasure he brings her, his skillful fingers rubbing against her sensitive clit as she swallows his spit, chasing after him again and seeking more. it's erotic, tasting him on her tongue, craving him with every breath she takes. a string of saliva keeps them bound, just for a few moments, but she's swept up in his words, in the memories that ripple, unbidden, like a disturbance in a lake.
in another life, she hears him say the same thing, your highness, and she winces at the memory of a black flame and endless golden sands, except instead of sadness, her rafayel's eyes are warm, kind, and full of desire. her chest throbs, painful, and her hand comes to rest over her rafayel's heart, feeling the heat of their bond flutter and come alive. )
Here, ah —
( no, she's grinding down on him to distract herself, slick and slippery from all his teasing. but with the last of her self control, she pulls away from him and firmly tucks him back inside of his pants. it's torture, but it'll be worth it. probably. )
The beach is just outside. ( she tells him, clipped and raw from questioning her own life choices. ) C'mon, let's go. It'll be worth it, I promise.
[ as they exchange kiss after kiss in a heady, intoxicating state, he's long forgotten her suggestion the second it leaves her lips. her presence was much like the single drop of water in a very full cup; where a single sigh from her lips were enough to break the surface tension and cause everything to overflow. his emotions are all over the place, caught between the past and present. one thing is for sure and it's that the present gradually overtakes all his thoughts.
his heartbeat is erratic, and he can barely catch his own breath, as he tilts his head slightly, angling it just perfectly for his teeth graze her lower lip. her touch is so feathery soft against his chest and yet it rises and falls almost exaggeratedly, as if showing how much effort he exerts in just staying semi-lucid.
his wrist suddenly stops as he feels her warmth pull away from him. his fingers still glistening with her essence, he draws it up towards his own lips for a moment. letting it settle on the tip of his tongue, before he draws it back towards where she puts his own arousal away.
she can probably almost hear the way he's holding back just by his voice. ] But, you were enjoying yourself so much. [ (spoiler: so was he, and this absolutely sounds like a complaint) still, he does release a soft sigh as he grabs her thighs and lifts her up in his arms. ]
You know I can't say no to you... [ laughs...
it's honestly, a little uncomfortable with how aroused he is, but he supposed this was the benefit of living on your own artificial island. at least there wouldn't be prying eyes. though, he can't deny loving this adventurous part of her. ]
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no subject
his hands are warm, searching, setting every sense alight as he explores. there are scars from endless fights and long-forgotten memories, so many of them faded into the canvas; but others can still be felt, and she can't help a surge of self-consciousness whenever his touch brushes them. still, she buries it, distracted by the way he tears up the lace. )
Raf —
( the chide is half-hearted at best, breathless and filled with longing, her gaze hungry and lidded. she gasps, squeezing tight and tensing when she feels those elegant, beautiful fingers push inside of her slippery-slick cunt. she grips him tightly, as if she's been afforded something she's long been craving, and she shivers, leaning down with flushed cheeks, her other hand curling in his hair.
she slips her hand down, down, unzipping and freeing him from the confines of his pants, and is suddenly reminded of that time he'd been in heat, how he'd craved touch, and she nudges her nose against his so she can claim his lips to kiss him, heated and wanting. )
No. They're not enough. Oh — ( she's nearly slurring against his lips, enthralled by his skill. ) Please... deeper. You're so close — ( then, a soft little smile. )
Give me both, tonight. Do you — do you need to be in the tub...?
no subject
the way she tightens around his fingers makes him feel a natural rise of heat. he feels it in his breath, and the way he draws his mouth so closely against her skin. he breathes right against her ear, as if perpetuating exactly how much he needed her. almost as if he's begging her.
her reactions are enthralling. it's almost as if she knows exactly how to incite his appetite— from the way she draws in a breath to the way her back arches. when she meets him in another kiss, he returns with equal fervor. his tongue swirling against hers as his half-lidded eyes looks down at her throat, eagerly watching to see if she swallows every bit of his spit down. his fingers enter in and out of her with a quickened pace as his thumb rubs up against her clit with each motion. he can barely make out her words between their heated exchange, and only when he pulls his lips away does he speak: ] Deeper... Is it here? [ his fingers are obviously teasing her, even stopping just shy of reaching the places she likes the most. ] Or here? Your Highness is so picky. [ sudden roleplaying aside,
his eyes do seem to twinkle with a bit of surprise at her following words. but, he does release something between a pained huff and a laugh. ] Oh, so you think I can wait that long? [ he says this, even while they both know he'd give into her every whim. ]
The tub might be kinda...
no subject
she blinks, and he's back again. artist, painter, lemurian. an impossible, beautiful creature who is as mysterious as he is passionate, and she can't shake the feeling that she's known him for much, much longer than their first meeting. and she can't shake the awareness that he's holding himself back, just a little.
but then it all melts away in the haze of pleasure he brings her, his skillful fingers rubbing against her sensitive clit as she swallows his spit, chasing after him again and seeking more. it's erotic, tasting him on her tongue, craving him with every breath she takes. a string of saliva keeps them bound, just for a few moments, but she's swept up in his words, in the memories that ripple, unbidden, like a disturbance in a lake.
in another life, she hears him say the same thing, your highness, and she winces at the memory of a black flame and endless golden sands, except instead of sadness, her rafayel's eyes are warm, kind, and full of desire. her chest throbs, painful, and her hand comes to rest over her rafayel's heart, feeling the heat of their bond flutter and come alive. )
Here, ah —
( no, she's grinding down on him to distract herself, slick and slippery from all his teasing. but with the last of her self control, she pulls away from him and firmly tucks him back inside of his pants. it's torture, but it'll be worth it. probably. )
The beach is just outside. ( she tells him, clipped and raw from questioning her own life choices. ) C'mon, let's go. It'll be worth it, I promise.
no subject
his heartbeat is erratic, and he can barely catch his own breath, as he tilts his head slightly, angling it just perfectly for his teeth graze her lower lip. her touch is so feathery soft against his chest and yet it rises and falls almost exaggeratedly, as if showing how much effort he exerts in just staying semi-lucid.
his wrist suddenly stops as he feels her warmth pull away from him. his fingers still glistening with her essence, he draws it up towards his own lips for a moment. letting it settle on the tip of his tongue, before he draws it back towards where she puts his own arousal away.
she can probably almost hear the way he's holding back just by his voice. ] But, you were enjoying yourself so much. [ (spoiler: so was he, and this absolutely sounds like a complaint) still, he does release a soft sigh as he grabs her thighs and lifts her up in his arms. ]
You know I can't say no to you... [ laughs...
it's honestly, a little uncomfortable with how aroused he is, but he supposed this was the benefit of living on your own artificial island. at least there wouldn't be prying eyes. though, he can't deny loving this adventurous part of her. ]