To truly delight in the touch of another is a rare thing. Or rather, a more accurate statement would be that his lioness, Mizuna Namikaze, and all her her flawed perfection was the first to capture his attentions in such a fashion. The first woman who he finds himself greedily seeking more of in each moment they share, for as fleeting as these moments are, there is no such thing as enough of her touch. When he is away, he is starving for the feeling of her soft lips against his own, and the grace of her fingertips across tracing his jaw, the calm of eyes that painted a million lies. A million lies, and his very own truth.
When after weeks he had been without this woman in his arms, without her touch, without the tantalizing scent of her perfume--so long without her, when he finally holds her once more in his arms, he wishes nothing less than to devour her. For each to claim the other as their own, to brand that truth onto one another’s skin, and find their honesty on tongues that so often wove lies like silk.
The bite of her nails down his back, leaving painful ribbons of red in their wake was entrancing to him now, as was the way she arched under him when his teeth found her shoulder, welling liquid rubies from such perfect skin. Each would be marked in a trinity of reds, blues, and purple. Where tooth and nail lovingly sank into flesh, and fingers gripped tight enough to bruise, not wanting to risk the other leaving once more too soon. To leave such marks, so even when so soon the lion must leave his lioness, the proof that what they had was true would be worn on the flesh for days to come.
But such vicious passions between the pair, fades to a softer touch when both are left breathless. Mizuna’s lips upturned in a playful smirk as her delicately lethal fingers trace gentle circles between Takami’s shoulders. Takami’s own fingers brush softly along her rubs and chest before they find themselves carding through silk-like golden strands.
Her voice graces the air with a comment that causes the diplomat’s cheeks to heat, and his chest to rumble with a soft laugh, his forehead rested briefly against her own. Of course, this woman had his heart in his hands, and just so he knew that he held hers. For this, each could ruin the other. But for all their savagery, and all they were, they did not. It would be another lie to say they found humanity within themselves in the presence of the other. But they found something, something which allowed themselves to lay here with honest smiles, and affections that were perhaps the only truths either had known in years.
