FLUSTER👏MY👏MUSE👏👏 // accepting
Black would lurch towards the healer, forcibly grasping at her chin to keep Nina's eyes on his own. A lapse of silence, he would brush his thumb over her lips before delicately brushing her hair aside. "Go on and beg," he husked, a devilish smirk creeping along his features. "BEG me to ravish you."
It takes little time for her cheeks to fill to the brim with sunset lighting, brightening her features instantaneously. Her back against a wall, she has nowhere to run, and no way to escape his imposing gaze, and his even more imposing actions. Not a single move is made to reject his touch, the only reaction evoked being that of a flinch.
Not a word is capable of passing by tense lips, any sound immediately silenced by the barest of gestures. Every tiny part is retracted the very second his fingertip glides across, stifling any attempt. Her lips soon form a tight line, refusing to budge. The only noise allowed to exit is that of a soft whimper that she does her utmost to mask. His lack of speaking isn’t without reason; he’s doing it on purpose, and she’s fully aware. The tension rises the longer neither make a move, Ninazu’s heart filling the prolonged pauses with its pronounced pounding. (He can hear it, she knows he can.)
Then, he finally speaks, and that heart leaps into her throat.
❝S-- st-- stop,❞ comes her weak retaliation, desire so heavily folded into her voice that the meek refusal sounds like the blatant lie that it is. Her eyes avoid his, hyperaware that in his vigilance and his acute observation of her, he can see right through her. ❝I... I don’t...❞ The matter drops as quickly as it’s presented, knowing that she can’t get away with such poor excuses. She’s squirming, and all he needed to do was touch her.
With a simple, small action, he’s completely undone her willful denial. Her face is flaring a bright sunset orange, her brows furrowed heavily, her heart chooses to run a marathon, and her lips quiver with indecision and hesitation. Try as hard as she might, she certainly can’t quell the internal struggle he’s just caused. The question rises whether to stand her ground or swallow her pride for the sake of that pesky yearning. She intakes a long, steady breath, and showcasing the tiniest voice she can muster, she drops all pretenses. (Thank the heavens no one else is here.)
❝... Please.❞ A tentative, trembling hand reaches forth to grasp his shoulder, fingers curling and clearly exhibiting her defeat. ❝I-- I need you. M-more than I can say. What-- whatever I need to do, I’ll-- I’ll do. Just, please, t--❞ she nearly swallows the words, tempted to simply turn tail and pretend this was never spoken. To tell him how she really feels is an arduous task; he’ll never let her live it down. But, what else is she to do in this situation? A single harsh swallow and one last push. She can only hope it’s enough -- she can hardly take this humiliation.