HER MOUTH WARM, INVITING ; ALL FOR HIM TO DEVOUR! such a beautiful thing, to watch how the sun itself can bend, to surrender ... even with all the steady, undeniable presence of it. the beat of the golden heart is elevated when her body shifts against g'raha's own, her thighs straddling over his, as he sits upon the bed &. the warrior has found her purpose upon his lap. fabric has been abandoned when it started to feel like something insulting, when two bodies that have yearned for one another through space &. time can be pressed close like so, without anything in-between.
her hands map the muscles of upon his shoulders, his back, ... the shift of them matching the heat of the kisses that are induced with the fire alight within the champion herself. every inch of him has already been mapped, &. burned into her memory that taunts so beautifully even during waking hours. every touch she gives is worship ; every touch still speaks of the knowledge of how long they have both waited for one another, &. now, the sun seeks to devour, to love him into flame.
so greedy, can even the golden heart of the hero be, when given the right to reach for something selfish.
a soft sound escapes into their open mouthed kisses as she feels g'raha shift underneath her touch so, ... one hand upon the small of her back, the other underneath her thigh, bringing her closer, still. no distance, no distance, no distance, their hearts beat. ... tension exists somewhere in her muscles still, from the aftermath the towers of telophoroi's still woven in her ; like a weapon manifested unable to realize that for now, there is a moment to breathe.
he sees it, of course he does. there is not an ounce of her that he would not know ... so woven, are these two souls, even across every impossibility. not even the stars themselves can manage to stand upon their path.
suddenly, the grip of his tightens ; a pleasant sensation that makes another breath get caught in her throat ... but once he shifts their places, when her back meets the soft mattress underneath &. his body hovers hers, ... all without their lips never abandoning one another, ( because of course, he would have known the precise angles to pull such a move. ) the very breath is exhaled then, so sweetly, as for a moment her eyes open ... golden hues' glow brighter now, emotions running high! her lush lips swollen from the hunger of their kisses, ethereal expression ruined &. dazed. there is a question there in her gaze, but she already feels the way his mouth trails to her neck, lips &. tongue announcing their worship of her skin, while she feels the graze of teeth here &. there, just enough to make claim, to leave proof for them to know, he was there.
@eternalswind : let me take care of you.
INTENTIONS MADE KNOWN ; IT IS BOTH A PLEA &. A DEMAND. because he sees, he knows. her head tilts against the pillow, giving him more room to roam, to touch, &. she feels the claim being made. a pleased sound leaves her lips, soft as the dawn yet holding something of that enchanting darkness in it. her back arches slightly, yearning, yearning, yearning. ( impatient, are we, hero? ) the way his mouth travels lower, collarbone, chest ... all maddening in the sweetest way. her hands move to the back of his neck, the other to the red of his hair, fingers curling there once with one kiss, then by the other, a gentle caress of his ear that she has learned will reward her with a sweet sound of his own.
there always exists the instinct to be the one that moves, &. it is her body reaching for that instinct. her body speaks the words as they brew atop her tongue, about to speak of the fact she wants to take care of him all the same, to plead to let her taste his skin once more ... ❝ g'ra— ❞ but then, his mouth finds the place where she aches the most in this moment ; the wetness of her, warm, ready. her back arches from the mattress from the contact of his lips, leaving such a worshipful kiss there. her breath breaks on his name, mouth ajar from the sound of it. then, came his tongue, as he tasted once more how sweet even the most lethal, ethereal thing can be.
every argument she had died upon her tongue, right then.
her hand moved to his hair then, fingers curling in it in a tug of someone needing to hold on. ❝ g'raha ... ❞ his name, like a prayer itself as his practiced tongue swirled. her hips shifted, adjusting to the rhythm he gave, ❝ so good, ❞ it came out breathless, wrecked. ❝ you are so good for me. ❞