@arcanaaa:
Was she still mad at him? The mage considered briefly, mulling over their petty grievance, and for the duration of her ponder Cana couldn’t determine for herself if she was or not. At the heart though, it didn’t matter. The bitter feelings that swelled inside her dissipated, washed, her mind full of clarity.
She didn’t give a damn. She didn’t give one god damn about it all: the fights, the arguments, all that were used to drive the wedge between them, none of it mattered anymore. They were excuses. She knew they were. It was what brought her to him.
She never allowed his presence to envelop her, never allowed herself the simple pleasure to simply enjoy what he was. What he offered her. Now that he stood before her, she felt…overwhelmed.
Possessive
‘Mine.’
All that mattered was him. Here. Right in front of her and within her grasp. It was simply a matter of reaching out and grabbing him for her own.
“Loke.”
Mine. The whisper in her mind chanted hungrily. Mine it said as hands with a mind of their own gripped the silk lapels of his suit jacket. She took small satisfaction in besmirching the fabric before tightening her grip to yank him closer.
Mine!
“Do you know what you do to me….Loke?” she murmured, the words passed close to his lips, barely a breath away from touching each other. A mere kiss away.
“Should I tell you…what it is that you do to me…or maybe…”
Closer.
“–I should show you…”
Closer.
“–hey, Loke…what should I do?”
The air thickened in his surroundings as soon as long legs strolled boldly across the room. No surprise to whom wore those legs, but it was the eyes that drew him away. They were piercing right through him, devouring his very core. It was a hint of fear that tingled his spine, along with the entree of pleasure; served hot. Attention was caught, and stature stood ground as she approached with a purpose.
Fingers coiled around expensive fabric he wore. They tugged with passion as whispers brushed against his lips, teasingly. Knees shook as the intense pleasure overflowed with every murmur she spoke. It was messing with him, and it left the player speechless to her will. It was a sensation of a bad habit being resurfaced. A miracle that he lasted so long without giving in, without revisiting the urge. No matter how many times he stood at her door, he never knocked to be invited in. Stubbornness of a lion, of his pride.
“ You know I was always a visual learner…”
Couldn’t help but smile at his cleverness. A toothy smirk was shown, showing no hesitance. Fingers of his own found their way to her form; gently taking advantage of the parts he missed out on this whole time. By the touches she laid on him, Loke could sense a touch of possessiveness about them. The gripping, the tugging, and hungry in those blue eyes – everything rang for yearning – for hers. that alone was enough for him to give in, taking in the long last passion they once had.
