"Bite down, don’t hold back." / from Gortash :-))
The request causes her to freeze, chilling her much like the stone wall he has her pressed against. Her teeth hover above tantalizing flesh, brushing and grazing but never fully latching on.
She knows he's not some delicate flower, not fine porcelain that will crack with a simple touch. However, he's still mortal, and she's rarely ever gentle with her playthings. So the handful of times they've fooled around, she's been just a tad extra careful not to break him. Because he's more useful alive and in one piece. That's how she always rationalizes it, be it to herself, her father or even the disgusting worm of a butler.
But that doesn't stop the fact that if not with just barest bit cautious, she may lose control whether she wants to or not. The worry that ever lingers in the back of her mind is the more carnal their activities become, the more likely her command over the monstrosity deep inside will diminish — that Bhaal will take retribution on them both.
That doesn't stop the temptation nor does Gortash help to squash it.
Case in point being the way he looks at her from the corner of his eye when she peeks up at his face from the crook of his neck. The spark in his dark gaze. Not to mention the feel of his skin against hers, and the dominating croon of his voice.
All of life is a gamble, never guaranteed another second of breath. So why waste it?
"You should be careful what you say...what you wish for." Ithaca murmurs, waiting for no reply as finally she fully sinks her teeth into his throat. Like needles her teeth puncture flesh, causing beads of blood to form that she licks away while sucking the nastiest hickey she can onto his skin. She can't help but moan as she feels his pulse against her tongue; it makes the taste of him all the sweeter.
The hiss Gortash lets out is like music to her ears, and in turn encourages her to bite even harder, as if she were really going to rip out his jugular. Ithaca's fingers dig into his back, clawing at every inch she can reach. Her legs tighten around his waist as they rock against one another. She can feel herself on the brink, on the cusp of losing herself be it to pleasure or the urge, it's hard to tell.
Without a warning she pulls back, panting. For a long moment she rests against the wall behind her. Her gaze stares skyward as she does so before finally she looks back at him as well as the mark she's left. A blossom of dark purple, almost black, with droplets of crimson still forming and dripping down. The indention of her teeth are very clear as well. It's going to take work hiding that. It looks as if he almost got mauled by a beast.
"You can't be mad since you asked me to do that." Ithaca scoffs, a smug grin forming on blood speckled lips. "A little ice magic will help. That and the back of a hairbrush." Forward she leans to press her lips to the bruised flesh, leaving light kisses.
