Witchlight

Realm of Kaeleer => Ile de Paon => Rosnay Island => Topic started by: Aramis Dupuis on June 19, 2019, 10:15:10 PM

Title: Afternoon Snack [cw]
Post by: Aramis Dupuis on June 19, 2019, 10:15:10 PM
Fresh air was a welcome relief after being cooped up in his windowless, tightly sealed shack all day. Even with heavy scent cleansing, nothing could replace the feel and smell of freely moving air. The sunlight on his skin, the sounds of the coast, the little movements of the trees -- it all added to the centered feeling that had built up in him, a quietude he felt in his bones.

Breathing deep, feeling the steady expansion of his chest, his lungs, the taste of the air, Aramis passed a hand once more over the locks on the door, securing them a second time, before he began his walk back to the main house. He swept casually around himself for whatever might be lurking in the bushes, attention snagging and then falling away from things without urgency or intent. He was relaxed, and it felt amazing. Several of the cats that haunted their cove perked up at his passage, cautious in their partial domestication but used to the passive acceptance of his attention.

In the kitchen he washed his hands perfunctorily, looking over his arms and shirt again. He wore an apron and gloves in the shack, typically, but sometimes there was something he missed. A smudge, a speckling. Or he'd take his gloves off and get messy - those days he spent as much time cleaning himself as prepping the meat.

Satisfied there was nothing he could see, Aramis dried his hands and scratched the chin of the one beast that dared to hop up on the counter. It was one of the cats that stuck around the tree shadows of his shed, and he took it into his arms with ease, aware of the eyes at his back.

"Good afternoon," it was still relatively early, but lunch had surely passed. He leaned back against the lip of the sink, deciding against affecting a smile, and tilted his head instead, the cat purring beneath his hand. "Busy day?"
Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Pella Labeau on June 22, 2019, 08:44:47 AM

"Aramis." Dark lashes sweeping past her husband to the beast in his arms, Pella lifted an eyebrow in surprise. It arched near the outer corner rather than the inner, a broad, black wing. Picking up a towel, she wiped the counter clean of invisible paw prints, the act bringing her close to him and his pet.

"No more than usual, really." Towel left beside the sink, Pella ran a finger along the cat's skull. In her stomach was a stone. In her heart a tremble. With Aramis she felt a measure of caution that did not exist when she dealt with his younger brother. Emile was fierce temper, but it passed quickly. He was predictable. Aramis was not.

The cat purred beneath his touch, but its eyes were doubtful as Pella stroked it. Fingertip gentle in its caress. She knew the look. And the feeling behind it. Experienced much the same herself. And like the cat, Pella came close to the people who made her feel that way. "They're more bold with you. I've never seen one in the house before." The smell of meat attracting them.

Did it all smell the same? Pella wasn't sure. She tried not to know, much less to smell, what went on in Aramis' private place. But she knew Nora had taken to feeding the beasts scraps. Had helped the girl clean the scratches on her arms and hands. In silence, of course. Pella did not speak to Nora anymore. Should have stuck to her original plan in the beginning.

Nora did not exist unless Pella was forced to recognize her presence. And currently Emile lived in that same space. On the fringes of Pella's perception. Places where they could not get close to hurt her. "Did you have plans for the afternoon?" She asked him, chin near his shoulder as she looked up at him.

Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Aramis Dupuis on June 25, 2019, 10:25:19 PM
Eyes on Pella's eyes, eyebrows, mouth. Jaw, shoulders, wrists, hands, feet -- expressive parts of people. The parts people forgot about in the heat of the moment, when they spoke with emotion, the parts that broadcast nerves and anger.

Aramis tended to give the people who he lived with the benefit of not actively trying to peel them apart tick by tick, both because it helped delineate them from marks and because it got boring. Pella had the advantage of living with them long enough that she was familiar, that whatever he'd picked up from her had been based on duration of proximity rather than the animal need to successfully capture someone. You had to be good and quick to skin a person like that, after all.

He watched her draw closer, faint amusement at her caution warming his chest. It would never cease to fascinate him how the people who knew him - really knew him - acted around him versus those that did not. He wasn't going to change, after all, and Aramis didn't consider himself that different in how he acted in public and how he was at home. It could amount to a different vest and glasses, and he did like to use those for reading the ledgers. Maybe a sort of purposeful politeness that got a little blunter in the halls of their home, but really, it wasn't like he was wearing a necklace of human fingers. Maybe he should, just to stir the pot a bit.

One finger against the cat's head, and he watches it, curious. He was partial to cats because they could be independent little menaces, but they could be affectionate too, and Aramis appreciated that freedom. He could spend as much time as he desired interacting with them only for them to up and leave him, when normally it was him getting bored and making a strategic exit. But how did Pella regard them? Nora? Emile likely didn't care or didn't notice, benefiting from there presence mostly in that they had very few pests around their home.

"Just this one." Although if there were several that looked the same he might not know the difference, or care. Pella in his peripheral he ran his knuckles against its cheek, feeling the curve of its jaw as it turned against him, directing. "I think one is enough. They don't need to be getting ideas." Sometimes, if he was in a particular mood, it was annoying to have them wandering around the path to the house. Having more than one inside was a change he didn't feel keen to entertain.

Gaze back to Pella's face; eyebrows chin mouth nose eyes running together into an expression. Close, she was close. Not unusual. Like a cat, he thought. Close, despite her caution. What went on behind her eyes?

No way to know that, not in any way Aramis knew. Those weren't secrets he could peel away.

"No," he replied. He was calm and settled and wonderful, no itch beneath his skin to drive him on. Maybe he'd read, or see to some of the laundry. Something repetitive and monotonous. And cleaner. "Do you have something in mind?" Likely, and probably some form of retribution for some slight or another on Emile's part. There had been an argument recently, hadn't there?

Aramis didn't particularly mind moving to the beats of his family's drums. Often enough he orbited their little dramas, content to watch the byplay and stand stolidly next to whoever needed a comforting shoulder. For his own manner of comforting, of course. Maybe she needed furniture moved again.
Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Pella Labeau on June 29, 2019, 08:27:34 PM

"Yes," Pella agreed solemnly. Unsure if she could fully tolerate having the one in the house. They were good mousers, and handled the snakes tolerably well too. But they were also dirty creatures. Walking across counter tops and burying their shit in her flowerbeds. "One is more than enough." If not too many.

She found herself irrationally jealous at the easy way he pet the cursed creature. Mindlessly, even. And it was irrational because Pella was certain that all she had to do was press against him and ask, and she could get similar treatment. He always tolerated her moods well. Not that she often inflicted many of them on him, especially not those less pleasant.

"They already think they own the yard. No sense in letting them think the same about the house." That was Pella's domain. Grown and decorated at her discretion. She had been there first, the stamp of her time in its walls apparent across them. Sharing it with men and women was one thing. Pella would not share it with animals.

Testing her theory, Pella pillowed her head against his shoulder and let her body relax into his. Her own fingers joining his, she gave the cat a hesitant stroke down its back. "I've a free afternoon." No need for her in any of the villages. The other women gone swimming. Emile gone diving, Pella assumed without actually caring where he was. And Aramis asked so nicely.

"Maybe a walk. We haven't gone on one in a while." She liked listening to the sea and the birds. Long walks helping to clear her mind so she could think. And Aramis was always restful company when he wasn't the thrilling sort. Fanning the ember of quivering, terrified lust in her stomach.

Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Aramis Dupuis on June 29, 2019, 11:45:59 PM
"Indeed," he agreed. If Nora found out he'd gotten one in the house Aramis was confident she'd lobby for it to stay. At least, he thought, Pella would be in his corner against that idea, should it ever come up. He wouldn't be letting them in his study or his shack, after all, because those places were his. The cats could have the grounds, the structures were for resident who would appreciate them.

Her weight settled against his side, head at his shoulder. Warm, soft. Stable, in a way Aramis appreciated, but wasn't sure if it was something people typically regarded in the people they let get physically close to them. He knew Emile liked her - and Nora - for other reasons, more intimate ones, but he had always been more needful of those simple parts of their presence: natural, human heat, the sound of their breathing, the solidity of their weight. Real.

In that moment with him, they made him feel real.

He tilted his cheek against the top of Pella's head, watching her hands, the way the fur depressed around her skin as she pet the cat. Moments spent just breathing, soft and silent. As calm as his bones.

"A walk then. It has been a while," he said eventually, shifting to hold out the arm not supporting the cat, that she might take it. Loud steps in an empty house as they left, Aramis unceremoniously dumping the cat at the back door and engaging the physical lock rather than a Craft one.

"How have you been?" Safer, to have Pella lead the conversation. He could speak of his own activities, but it invited more dram than he typically cared to deal with. It was always hit or miss whether his conversational partner would be inspired to terror or repulsion, or both, and none of those were things that he appreciated. Better to let her dictate the tempo rather than to rehash the actions of the morning and have to curb their outing early, unwilling to entertain her emotions over his own serenity.
Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Pella Labeau on July 07, 2019, 07:55:38 AM

Pella relaxed against him. Cheek to her hair all the encouragement she needed. All the acceptance she wanted. Fingers curling around his arm before her hand spread to his back. Soothing circles drawn on the muscle there. Mimicking, almost, the way she pet the cat with her other hand. A quiet moment spent listening to the purring of the filthy beast.

She could almost see why he and Nora liked them.

"We've both been busy." Pella excused them both, taking the arm he offered her. House forgotten before they ever made it outside. She laughed when he dumped the cat outside, and leaned into him as they left the porch for the path down along the trees. Door locked behind them with a key so that Nora could get in while they were gone. If she hadn't lost hers, or forgotten how to use it.

"I've been just fine, Aramis." Adjusting to a new body in the house. Everything in need of refitting to accommodate Nora'd presence. From recipes to space. Little things people didn't think of when they brought a whole new person home without any warning. She made no mention of the recent fight. Emile was not someone she wanted to speak of just then. He annoyed her greatly.

"And what about you? You've been hiding a lot lately." Fingers looped around his wrist, Pella ran her hand over his shoulder, palm cupping his collarbone. Kneaded the muscles at the base of his neck while she pressed her cheek to his arm. Elusive, reclusive husband. Pella loved him for his quiet. Was tormented by his strangeness. A horrible mixture of fear and wanting.

"Oh. Look." Knuckles brushing his jaw to turn his head. A peacock appearing through the trees. He spread his tail wide and cried out warning at their approach. "They make the worst noise." It always sent chills down her spine.

Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Aramis Dupuis on July 08, 2019, 04:28:26 AM
Pella intrigued Aramis, in a different way than the other women, or even his marks. It wasn't something he felt necessary to tell anyone; he acknowledged it and moved on. But there was always an edge to her that the other women lacked, either because they chose to ignore the parts of him they found unfavorable, or those parts were their soul focus.

He wondered at the duality of himself in her eyes, and why she came so close to someone she could have just as easily avoided.

"It's good you're well," he replied. At least she reported herself as well. There had to be some modicum of truth to it, at least, because Pella knew about as well as Emile how much Aramis disliked lies. If there were something she felt she couldn't deal with on her own and didn't want to take to Emile, Aramis expected it to be brought to him. If she had it in hand, pr preferred to not have him involved, that was her choice. He expected her to be honest, as much as it mattered.

In return, Aramis would be honest too. It was that kind of game, after all.

"Most recently in the shed with a mark." He said, toneless. Affecting any kind of emotion about it was both unnecessary on his part, because it was a fact, and often times a poor choice with conversation partners, because it often came off wrong. "Before that, I can't say I was good company. Better to be apart, then." Aramis had always had a dishearteningly quick slide into cold anger when it felt like he'd been kept wound up too long, and his fuse grew shorter and shorter the longer he kept from working toward soothing it. It was why he preferred to go hunting for wayward fishermen rather than pick a slave at market, but sometimes needs must. The end result was often the same, after all -- Aramis' bones settled in his skin and his private stores gained their pound of flesh. Or two.

Following the touch of her knuckles, Aramis' gaze went from where he'd had it pointed ahead to better avoid obviously not looking at her, to the peacock in the underbrush. "I agree. A shame that they're appealing to look at. Otherwise I think they'd be better welcome around the house." Maybe as a replacement to the cats, although he wasn't quite sure which vermin they'd be best against. Perhaps the cats were a better choice.
Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Pella Labeau on July 16, 2019, 07:44:45 PM

It made her skin crawl. As if it would shed itself for Aramis' perusal, which made Pella feel all the more uncomfortable. Beneath that sick twisting in her stomach was a hard, hot knot. Snakes coiling around it, making her fingers flex on his arm. "I'm glad you're feeling better, and back with us." Though Pella cared very little about the others at that moment.

She was glad he was back with her.

Pella did her best not to think about what happened in Aramis' shed. Or before it. Murder happened often among the Blood, that was not the driving force of her discomfort. It was what came after. How? Why? She was curious but terrified sick of knowing. Pella was glad for the distraction the bird made. Tail feathers glossy in the light. Aramis warm beneath her touch.

"They're supposed to be a good omen. Favored by the Darkness." She turned, letting her breast brush against his arm in invitation. "There is a priestess quite famous on Corlay for the number of them that congregate around her temple." Feathers rattling, the peacock wailed again, gaze a sharp glare he turned in their direction as a few hens came out from under the fronds he had strutted out of. Pella laughed.

"I think we're interrupting." She told Aramis, smile turned to his shoulder as she nudged him away with her body. "The cats probably keep them away." Fingers spreading against his palm, Pella tipped her face toward him and smiled. "Where to, since we've been so rudely cut off from our meander." Somewhere quiet, the brush her chin on his shoulder suggested.

Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Aramis Dupuis on July 26, 2019, 12:38:28 AM
Slanted gaze down again, interest brushed by her mixed emotions and her actions. Emile would prod, he knew, if he inspired that same nuance, those layers.. Perhaps he could play into it, add into Pella's little turmoils over him. Her edges were as familiar to him as Emile's in that way one can know a person and maybe never know all of them.

Aramis had places within himself he preferred to keep in the shade, even if he knew what lurked there. He allowed a quiet hum of acknowledgement, unwilling to press, or ask after that flavor of truth. He imagined Pella liked to keep him in much the same way he kept is knives. Sharp, and within reach.

"I wonder what she feeds them," and if that had anything to do with their number. Aramis wasn't a particularly devout member of the blood, unless one considered his shack a temple and the table within an altar. He'd never bothered much with the Darkness and, beyond the Jewels he wore, he couldn't say the Darkness bothered much with him.

But Aramis was no Priest, and preferred not to speculate about that which he didn't know. Better to leave such things to Pella and the other Priestesses, since she had the inclination. 

Pella against him was curious. Two days ago he might have snapped, or not entertained her presence at all. So much more volatile. Now, he let himself be guided, followed the press of her direction as easily as a palm leaf on the surf. Easier now, to give when he had taken. And taken.

Warmed by the memory as much as by the ease of Pella's smile, his answering one wasn't forced for all it was smaller. Softer at the edges, easier to tuck back away. "Maybe the cats are our good omen, then." He didn't imagine he'd be able to tolerate their calls at all odd hours. Looking down at her, fingers curling to brush against the backs of hers, Aramis wondered what satisfaction she gained from him in moments like these. She wouldn't be listening to the bird if she weren't out on their walk, after all.

"Closer to the sea, I think," no matter his dislike of falling into his second skin, the water still called him, calmed him. And there were several grassy overlooks that he favored for their exact ability to ut him beside the ocean but not in it or the sands.

Gently, always gently with their women, Aramis lead them on, carefully around the birds and down one of the game trails. "Unless you'd prefer the water? Or the house," A bit late to ask, admittedly, but perhaps she'd rather not be alone in the trees with him, no matter how softened he was or how inviting her closeness. Gentle and cautious, gentle and cautious, and it would so ruin the mood if he somehow inspired a drama.
Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Pella Labeau on August 04, 2019, 07:46:56 AM

Pella looked up, feeling his eyes shift toward her. She imagined it was the same sort of prickling sense that made little animals freeze in their tracks when predators came near. The corner of her mouth rose coyly, dimpling the crease of her cheek. "Naughty apprentices, maybe." The joke more nuanced in Aramis' presence. The humor dulled and the threat of such a possibility honed.

There could have been more than one. Pella had never asked if he'd learned such habits from somewhere. Some questions were not meant to be asked, their answers not wanted to be known.

Her fingers tightened their hold on him in answer to his smile. They were rare treasures, these smiles. Different from the little masks he slipped on to keep others from worrying. He mirrored back their expressions while hiding whatever went on inside. Rarely turning the brunt of his temper on them. Not that Pella minded its bite. It made these moments all the sweeter, and kept her terror sharp in her belly.

"Maybe they are. Its a pleasing thought." Just as the pads of his fingers over her hand. The simple gesture drew Pella in. Captured her to his side in full, soft submission. The bridge of her nose drawn down the path her chin had taken across his shoulder. "To the sea then." Wherever made him most happy and comfortable. Pella followed him with a smile, a little backwards glance at the peacock who rattled his tail at their passage but otherwise ignored them. Content to tend his hens, who he ushered out into the feeding ground.

"No, this is perfect." It could have been anywhere, and it would have been just right for Pella. Aramis so rarely gave like this, Pella clung tight and treasured the moments. Always careful not to spoil them, unless spoiling them would heighten the fun for both of them. But she always took her cues from her husband, and knew he read hers like a book. He was very good with people that way. The why making her spine tingle and her lips part.

Lips she brushed against his jaw when they reached the place he had chosen. Why here? Surf crashing in her ears. Spray leaving salt on the air, and his skin. Tasted by the very tip of her tongue. "Beautiful spot, love."

Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Aramis Dupuis on August 20, 2019, 12:39:00 AM
One brow ticked up, smile hardening at the edges before smoothing out. Best not get into the nitty gritty comparisons there. The more vague Aramis allowed his activities to be the better off everyone was. "Indeed," he allowed instead. He didn't doubt that the lady Priestess had the power to mince a man, or, at least, someone in her employ who was capable.

Better the cats than some more dangerous neighbor, or something invasive and demanding. Like other Blood. Aramis cherished the ability to shed social niceties at the border of the property; having close living neighbors would drag against edges that he prefered to keep separate from his home.

As they walked, something fit unevenly in Aramis' mind. Gaze flickering down to the top of Pella's head before going back to the path as they navigated the reaching flora. Pella liked games, at least in as much as Aramis understood it. Her nearness to him was a game, her interactions with Emile and Nora were games, things to satisfy some gnawing thing in her. Perhaps what they fed was something not dissimilar to what lived in Aramis, for all the rules between the two were different. But it was rare that she approached without a desire of some kind, a task needing doing. Some little tally, a mark, to be stitched into a situation later for the best effect. What that was would depend on how she used it, when it was brought up.

He mulled it over. How best to divine her layers, to see what sort of path she walked. It rolled around in his mind like one of Emile's pearls. Perhaps it was even about Emile himself, after the incident that had brought him to transport the curio. He knew that Pella knew he was unlikely to make any kind of move against Emile, save for providing whatever advice he felt Emile might be receptive to. Curiouser and curiouser.

The hillock had been cleared, to a degree, because Aramis appreciated the ability to gaze down at the sea in the distance, and the grass around them long but undisturbed because animals didn't like him, generally, and tended to avoid the places he allowed himself to frequent. A blink, to conjure a blanket for their sitting, fronds bending beneath it. "It pleases me," he allowed. Any place free of people and without irritating noises tended to, but he had his preferences.

Waiting until she was seated before following, Aramis folded down beside her, legs crossed at the ankle, palms back to support himself. Not looking at her, but the trees, the distant figures of birds. He didn't feel that there was any particular emotion to convey, and would rather not put her on edge by simply staring. It was only serviceable if he wasn't caught at it, after all, and there would be little hiding something so blatant  at such short a distance. This would be a game of nuance. "What pleases you today, Pella? Surely there are more important matters for your attention than sitting in the jungle." The with me he left off. Some might say there was very little between Aramis and the beasts of the wild, after all.
Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Pella Labeau on October 05, 2019, 08:55:19 AM

A clever trick. Too often it seemed people forgot what they could carry. Or what they should. Cabinets filled with bits and bobbles but nothing useful or needing. Not in Aramis' case. Blank spread deftly over green fronds that bowed beneath its weight. Made into cushions as she eased her body down onto a corner. Feet tucked neatly behind her, so that her thighs and calves made a pleasing shape.

Pella had no doubt that in Aramis' cabinet were all the little tools needed for a days work, whatever that work might prove to be. Blades for prying open shells. Blades for prying open people. Blankets just like this one for rare moments just like this one.

Chin to her shoulder, Pella looked out at the blue-green swirl of the sea. White froth blending into the darker colors of the depths. Nearly invisible shadows moving beneath the waves. She let her hair fall across her face even though he was not looking. Let her back arch and her lids grow heavy. Refusing to be spiteful against what appeared disinterest, Aramis' eyes drawn elsewhere. Watching the bird adorned tree tops as she watched the see.

A studied sort of ignoring.

She moved when he spoke however, a hand fitting into the cradle between his shoulder blades. Fingers following the curve of his spine downward. "Pleasing you pleases me today." Weight rolled onto her knees so she could kneel half behind him. Thumbs tracing muscles upward, she kneaded gently, carefully. Letting her hair brush the back of his arm. The ends curling around his elbow.

"Have we not earned some leisure and rest?" The question put into the air near his ear. An eyebrow he couldn't see sweeping upward in question. Each of them working for the best of the group. The front that hid their rookery. Bold, Pella kissed his shoulder, palm spreading low across his back. "The others find time to dive off for playful swims. Let us have this." Let them have each other. Alone in a place no one would hear or find them.

No help should things go terribly wrong. No interruptions if they went terribly right. Just the sea at her back, the jungle at her front. And Aramis, a strange combination of both.

Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Aramis Dupuis on October 14, 2019, 11:19:09 PM
Her proximity, the shift of her weight on the blanket, the change in the air -- his gaze knifed to the corner of his eye, eyelids relaxing. Lowered, almost demure. A half step closer to an edge he rarely showed the house. Jaw flexing he refused to still, to react as the hungry-thing in his chest liked to. Easier, like a sigh, to smother it away now.

It pleases me not to wade too deeply into this, he thought. Too easy, perhaps. If his desires were hers, then Aramis knew better the angle she moved from.

"Is that so," he stated, turning his head toward her while his eyes lagged behind. He could almost feel her lips against his skin, and then they pressed against his shoulder. Brave. When he did at last look up at her their closeness did nothing to shake his focus. He turned more fully, sliding onto his hip, knees curling toward her, propped up by one hand, feeling the glide over fingers down his shirt. The opposite came to rest on one slender forearm, closing the circle between them. Her skin was soft, and he ran his thumb in a lazy sweep over the hair there. Below was the firmness of her muscle, of bone, of blood and vein and sinew.

He was closer to a living person than he'd been in days.

Aramis let himself have plenty. Maybe too much, sometimes. But what was the reward when there was no risk? His allowances may some day come for him, but likely not from Pella. "And you would let me take my pleasure, then? Indulge in rest and... leisure?" It rolled over his tongue like a sweet, looking up through his eyelashes at her. There was no pressure in this at least. No tightness in his skin that made Pella look like anything other than Pella. No way to communicate that, though. No way to say that he wasn't... hungry, without acknowledging the shadow that hung around his throat.

Pella was typically sound. Aramis trusted his ability to stop, adjust, adapt around his own limitations. He didn't quite know about her, though. Bravery could only shield so much.

"How generous of you," he murmured, fingers tracing up her arm to her elbow. Warm. Solid. Present. That, more than anything, was a comfort. Too frequently it felt like the only real thing in the world was him.
Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Pella Labeau on October 17, 2019, 04:14:24 AM

Pella made a soft sound of assent. The air around them changed. The salt spray of the sea taking on a tang as his focus shifted from the green horizon to the outlook they say upon. To Pella. So knife sharp she felt it slide across her skin, prickling warning that did not cut. Or stop her lips from resting against his shoulder.

That really drew his attention. Pella looked up to find his eyes on her. Dark shadows full of promise beneath his lashes. Pella just couldn't tell what that promise was. Had she gone too far? Taken too much risk? Each encounter was like a gamble. A game. The stakes her very life. It made her lips curl upward, smile half hidden by his shoulder before she pulled back. Aramis following her retreat by filling the space she emptied with his own body. Turning into her.

Touching her. Hand a gentle vice around her arm that twisted her stomach into a knot. The sweep of his thumb drawing that same knot tight and low until it was a warm weight at the core of her. At the base of his spine her fingers curled. His shirt clutched in her fist to hold him there with her as gooseflesh broke out across her skin and tightened the tips of her breast.

"I would." Her voice was rough, as if from disuse, or from the spine tingling way her drew out the word leisure. Twisting its meaning.

Pella's hand swept his cheek, slowly so that she didn't pull her arm from his grasp, or seem to fight his hold. She did not want to lose the manacle of his fingers. Tongue wetting her lips, she could feel her own pulse in her throat. So swift like a birds she thought it might flutter away. Easing deeper into the circle of their bodies, Pella let go of his shirt. Her hand following the path of his arm this time, up and up until it cupped the place she had kissed.

"I must admit some selfishness." She added meekly. But the rest of her was bold. Breasts brushing against him as she leaned in farther to kiss him again. This time on the lips. She lingered gently as her fear grew heavier and warmer. Sank deeper and spread farther until it was more lust than anything else. Opening her lips over the corner of his mouth so her tongue could dart free and taste the mystery of him.

Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Aramis Dupuis on November 20, 2019, 09:47:32 PM
The draw of his shirt fabric. The minute movements of her eyes, her face. So close in their intimate little bubble. Taught, like the string of a bow. Maybe there was only this, this give and take of touches. Maybe there wasn't some deeper motive. Sometimes Aramis liked this game too, if the cost was only in the present. Easy to give if he received something he knew not how to ask for.

Her reactions were pleasing, made the edge of the hungry thing fade further, slide seamlessly against other, lesser desires. Eyes tracked the lick of goose flesh over her arm before moving up, across neck and collarbone, over jaw. Back to eyes, and the prickle of not-quite-knowing, the little tremors of anticipation. Maybe it was him, skin drawing a touch tighter at the roughness of her voice. Feeding into that curiosity that said press here, harder, where it's tender, that made throat and cheek so appealing.

It was the thing in him that liked her caution, even as he found it amusing. He allowed the touch of her hand across his cheek, allowed himself to turn into that palm, the corner of his mouth against the joint of her thumb. Attention to her mouth then, the flicker of her tongue over her lips. A familiar desire, tempered by a familiar face, to press his mouth against flesh and taste the salt of human skin.

Aramis had decided long ago that this was something he could enjoy, in the right way. Bodies were capable of so much, some unintended. What Pella saught of him was... able to be accomodated, to a degree. Aramis was accustomed to it. And Pella felt nice. Good, even.

Warm.

Her kiss was warm too, soft despite its pressure, the space between them negligible. A distance spanned by fingers, his opposite hand coming to rest at the curve of her hip, soft as a ghost. His breathed a laugh, almost silent, kept close between them. "Then I must admit a lack of surprise." Everything Aramis did was selfish, himself weighed against everything else.

Beneficial of some to be considered his when those weights were balanced and measured.

The hand at her hip drew up, up, up, fingers tracing over fabric fold and wrinkle, coming up inside their circle to draw across collarbones. Up, the column of her soft, sweet neck, to rest in mirror of her own hand, the tips of his fingers just against the fall of her hair, the curve of her skull. He scraped his nails lightly, gently, against the skin there, back and forth. Contemplating action, following the slide of her tongue. So different, her intent and his.

"Tell me, Pella, he said, turning into her, check to cheek and eye to eye, one eyebrow hitching up, almost sardonic. He felt the edges of his Green and allowed himself to relax into it, relax further, let himself slip his own tongue free and taste her back. "What selfishness have you?"
Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Pella Labeau on February 23, 2020, 08:40:29 AM

How much of her did he see? Her every intention? Her every motive? Did he know the way her fear coiled longing and her longing stretched out into fear? Was there no surprises left for him? Maybe it did not matter. Pella did not know. She was not a hunter the way Aramis was a hunter. Or even Emile. She did not stalk. Did not see prey in people.

Pawns, mayhap. But not people.

He did not retreat. Hand sliding over her hip in a touch that teased and taunted. Felt more in the way her dress fabric shifted against her skin. It traveled. From her hip to the curve of her waist. Counted her rips as it rose and shifted between them to trace the hard edge of her collarbones. Over her fleet footed pulse and around, beneath her hair.

The weight of it pressing him closer. Silken fall swaying as he drew nails across her skin and allowed her to taste him. The dryness of his lips, and the pungent flavor of his mouth. The corner of his not-quite grin as hw drew away. High boned cheek to cutting cheek bone. His eye like a beast watching her. But he only teased. In that way that made her spine tingle.

"Just a wife's selfishness." She crooned, fingers stroking his chest. Mouth opening beneath his, fingers finding the gaps to allow her beneath the fabric to the skin beneath. "It is a small but greedy one." The words were traced the words against his cheek. Sliding closer. Slipping a knee over his thigh and her arm around his neck. So she could lean in. Test her body against his the way she had tested his flavor.

"Aramis." His name was a prayer. Or a song. Whispering him closer as she sucked the stubble rough skin of his throat into her mouth. Chase me. Take me.

Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Aramis Dupuis on February 26, 2020, 12:48:45 AM
"Oh?" Teeth, then, just an edge, just the firmness of them. Like a threat, but not quite. Not when he didn't have to be. Not when there were better uses for teeth and tongue and mouth. "Just?" Silly Pella, to think herself just. Nothing of his was just. He liked this heat of theirs, this closeness. Something easy, like the press of his lips against her cheek. He indulged, and did it twice.

The trace of her fingers through fabric, under fabric, on skin. Heat that followed, spooling, warm. Heat to drown the hungry thing and wake a different ache. Heat that ran from each touch, down, coiling in, tighter, tighter. An answering tightness in his groin, the stretch of his pants. Slow, but present. Never quite able to break ahead of thought, never quite unattached from watching her. Her knee slid across his lap, her arm around his neck. The headiness of her weight driving his jaw to flex. Close, almost enough. Surrounded in the scent of her, flush and warm. Almost, almost.

"Mm," her mouth on his throat, warm and moist. Her touch, leading, his attention pinned to it. Here, now, her. This game, theirs.

Mine, mine, mine.

One hand at her hip, thumb stroking, fingers spread wide; the other drew from nape to chin, guiding up, leveling them. That thumb dared to brush her bottom lip, to draw, slightly, and trace from one corner to the other. Silly wife. "Pella," he murmured, edged with the idea of teeth. Not a reprimand, almost a reminder. Present. Rougher. This game, her. His. "What does my wife want?"
Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Pella Labeau on March 22, 2020, 08:34:30 AM

Danger, danger, danger, Pella's heart fluttered. More, more, more, her body quivered in answer. Stomach a hot stone dropped into water. Loosing steam through her body that heated her blood and made her skin feverish to the touch. Skin she pressed to his skin. Fingers slipping through his shirt.

Skin to shirt to shirt to skin. It was maddening.

But his lap was so welcoming. Whatever beast lived in him, and not the creature of his second skin, but that other thing that set him apart, it did not mind. Pressing into the hand at her hip, Pella straddled her weight across his lap. Knees to his thighs, untroubled by the spongy grass and bead like stones they crushed beneath them.

What care did she have for those when his hand drew their faces even. Circling her neck to tip her chin upward. Thumb tracing her lip and chasing shivers down her spine. Slowly, she opened the front of his shirt. Eyes searching his face. Did he notice? Did he care?

"What she always wants. Her husband." Him. Aramis. The husband she had chosen, not the one who had stolen her from the sea and her people. Hips rolling forward, Pella spread a hand across his chest, and curled another over his ribs. Thumb catch between her teeth. And then her lips as she sucked it gently into her mouth. Eyes never wavering.

Sometimes it was like looking into the Darkness. But Pella never knew what she would see looking back out at her.

Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Aramis Dupuis on March 29, 2020, 05:45:50 PM
The heat reached a steady simmer, a thrum of intrigue and desire that followed his pulse. Gaze locked on her own, Aramis tracked the little movements of her pupils, the muscles around her eyes. He couldn't quite silence it, but he could come back, later, to the memories of her satisfying weight in his lap and turn each over in his mind.

For now, the present. Her roaming fingers, not quite asking, but hesitating a fraction all the same. A subtle change in temperature at their final decision, fabric parting. A flush of warmth, a prickling in his sternum. His wife. There was something of his hungry shadow that craved it, too, her attention. Maybe more partner to his caste, something not to be fed too frequently either way. But, tempered, he could let himself take it. Allow it to be given.

The heat in him rose at her affirmation. The security of her in his lap pleased. The press of her teeth to his skin had his eyelids drooping in a languorous blink. Surprise and curiosity flickered. A back-of-his-molars feeling, like when his own prey was within his grasp. Diminished slightly when she took his thumb further, tension in his belly drawing tighter instead. The less dangerous of the two. But the desire to bite was still there. To consume, if not wholly. Later, maybe.

"Mm," he breathed. Hand on her hip, steady, he leaned back, legs straightening out beneath her has he did so. Careful only to jostle her toward his spear, rather than away. The movement extracted his thumb from her mouth with a little pop, and he brought the digit to his own lips to flick his tongue out and taste the moisture there. Spread below her, curls fanning into the grass beyond the blanket, he found he wasn't displeased by the image of her astride him. Something else for later.

"And how would she like him?" He rumbled. His free hand found her leg, the curve of her thigh through her dress. Breathing momentarily not filled with the scent of her to hush things best kept from the 'bedroom'.
Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Pella Labeau on April 11, 2020, 07:00:54 AM

Some people rode their craft like a wave. Pella had heard them talk of it. But she had truly ridden waves. Body sea sleek and swift. Lifted high and the crushed down. Her craft had never tried to drown her.

Neither had Aramis, but still Pella thought she could drown in him like the sea. Be crushed without thought or remorse. Devoured, even. And it made gooseflesh spread across her body. Made her skin sing where he touched her. Or she touched him.

Following him downward by leaning forward. Pella stretched her hands across his bare chest and hovered over him. Almost, but not quite falling, like the forward swing of her hair. The dark tips brushed the backs of her hands while she curled her toes beneath the hem of her dress and tugged it from between their bodies so she could settle deeper in his lap, with just the rough fabric of his pants between them.

Centering herself, Pella cupped his hips with her knees, toes pointing to his calves. Letting go of his chest, she shifted her weight back again, settling into his lap as she stroked the side of his face. The warm flesh of his cheek and the prickling hair of his face. "As often as she can have him." Pella laughed, reaching up to twitch her dress from under his hand.

She wanted that feeling too. Warm hand to bare skin. She wanted it all over, which was why she tipped her hip back. Searching for the length of his spear beneath the press of her body while opening the front of her dress. It gaped, shoulders falling down around her elbows, opening to reveal the high, dark points of her breasts, and the flat expanse of her stomach. Navel like a shadow at its center.

Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Aramis Dupuis on April 14, 2020, 01:07:10 AM
The shade of her was unique. Aramis was not often on his back, and never with women. Something Pella might find appealing, if he ever decided to tell her. He found the perspective wasn't displeasing, and marked it as another thing to return to. The brush of her hair over exposed skin, light as a ghost, narrowed his focus. The scrape of her nails. The flex of her rib cage. The pull of muscle to inhale and be that much closer.

Her dress lifted over her knees, and there was a flash of shadowed warmth that matched her weight in his lap, over his spear. The pull of his pants was an intriguing barrier, one he didn't vanish. Her hand across his cheek. Familiar in shape and texture, warm. He turned his nose to the inside of her wrist, pressed his lips there in the shadow of a kiss. Let her palm hide the corner of his mouth as he gazed up at her. Fabric parting, sleeves shrugged down her arms, and Aramis as witness, took her in with hungry deliberation. The sweep of her collar bones. The slope of her breasts. Her dark nipples tightening at the change in temperature. The prickles along their soft undersides. The space between them.

His hand was around her wrist before his eyes got past the smooth skin of her sides and the sweep to her stomach. "Ch," he chided. He set her hand aside, brushing the backs of his knuckles against the soft skin where pelvis joined hip. His thumb brushed across dark curls.

One eyebrow lifted, the rest of his expression stilled. "No small clothes, wife?" He let mild amusement soften him, tried to smooth the ripples of disquiet. "Was this your plan?" It would be better to pretend it was, even if he brought a lie out of her. He didn't want to throw his brother's name as a pall over them, aware of how tremulous their little bubble was. Aramis had kept himself as ignorant as possible of what Emile did with their wives, and if it was something he had asked of her - it sat uncomfortably. Darkened the hungry edge into something less pleasant.

He rose up toward her, as though pulled by a string. Opposite hand to the nape of her neck, thumb behind one ear. He pressed his forehead against her sternum, breathed deep the warmth of them, the scent of her. Tried to smooth the edges of himself back down.

Eyes tilted up to look at her from his new angle at her chest. Gaze unblinking, caught in deliberation, aware of the edge of his own teeth and their particular weight. He allowed himself to taste the skin there instead of pressing his teeth against her. Debated running his hands through her hair, or palming the opposite breast, thumbing lightly across the nipple. Instead he left them as they were, fingers at her nape brushing her hair, the thumb below stroking over curls, steady in its rhythm. He could wait.
Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Pella Labeau on May 03, 2020, 06:15:43 AM

He had secrets in his eyes, this husband of hers. Never an open book, even in love play. They darkened his warm brown eyes like shadows. Pella was torn between wanting to know, and clinging to ignorance. Aramis was wild. Wild and wicked in a way that did not rampage or flash.

It was something in the teeth behind his kiss. Lips pressed to her skin. Eyes on her body with a hunger that made her stomach coil. Hot anticipation warring with foreboding. His fingers circling her wrist made the muscles of her stomach flutter, the skin rippling with the movement.

Pella's lips parted. Wanting or fear? Could it not be both that tightened her nipples and drew her hips across his lap? A soft sigh dashed past them when he touched her, her freed hand curling near her knee. "Let's call it a hope." She breathed, rocking, faintly, into the pressure of his knuckles.

A flash of terror as he rose toward, Pella' languid gaze flared into something wider and more aware. But Aramis did not bite, or even pinch. He just grasped, cradling the back of her neck to keep her steady. Thumb a pleasing stroke between her legs that fanned her arousal higher than her fear. Crooning, she stroked his hair, smiling as he tipped his face toward her, framed by her breasts.

She kissed his forehead and rolled her hips after his thumb. Fingers more eager in his hair. Stroking rather than petting. Fingertips pressed into his back as she slid them along the muscles hidden there. "Ah, love." Her arms lifted her breasts as she curled her hands through his hair, knuckles skimming the back of his skull. Pella bent to kiss the crown of his head before arching to offer him more.

Breasts, pelvis, all the placed in between. Shuddering with a little gasp when his thumb slid over a fresh spot, a shock of pleasure rippling through her.


Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Aramis Dupuis on May 05, 2020, 10:27:48 PM
Not quite the affirmation Aramis had wanted, but better to have it all the same. It was only them, and he could sooth away the edges inside by focusing on her instead. On the curve of her shoulders revealed by her dress, the fabric drooping further as she shifted. The play of her hair against her neck, the shadows of her eyelashes, the hollow of her throat.

Perhaps he would return to more than just memories, later. The idea felt heady, like relaxing into the Green. His Pella, caught and catching all at once.

The suspended fear in her was intriguing, heady in its own way. Not distracting, at least not to Aramis. Her shifting drew his attention back down, watching the small hairs rise across her skin. The drag of her fingers had him responding in kind, prickling lines that followed her nails across his scalp. Eyes closed at the touch of her lips to his brow, back and shoulders curling slightly at the passage of her fingers. The shirt fabric was a hindrance, so he vanished it.

The hand at her nape flexed, nails to skin for a heartbeat before the flat of his palm followed the curve of her back, supporting her arch. Lips tracking a ghost trail of kisses to the peak of one nipple where he held it between his teeth. Thumb pressing more firmly, he sought the dampness of her while he debated the ties of his pants. A flicker of Craft to loosen them, pressure slightly abating, and a breath of satisfaction let free in his chest. A hum with a hungry edge.

*If it pleases you,* he sent as he traced her nipple with his tongue. She could call it whatever she wanted. Aramis would call it a plot, and deal with it later.
Title: Re: Afternoon Snack [cw]
Post by: Pella Labeau on May 09, 2020, 08:09:04 PM

His skin was warm. Smooth in a way that wasn't soft. Too rich in texture to be compared to anything other than what it was. Bare flesh beneath her fingers. Skin catching at skin until the friction turned to silken gliding. Warmth turning to heat. Fingers flexing as his nails dug faintly into her neck, then relaxed.

A palm to guide the curve of her spine. Breasts like offerings on an altar. Pella sighed as he breath tickled the peak of her nipple, her fingers flexing hard along his shoulder blade as his brought his teeth to bare. A cry strangling her throat. Not of pain. He didn't bite, not really. Just reminded her that he had teeth, when Pella needed no reminding.

Clutching at him, she rode the teasing flat of his thumb. Hips chasing the tip of pleasure to be found on it. "It does." She promised him, voice low as she swallowed a moan. Pella cupped the back of his head, pressing him into her breast. She settled deeper into his lap as well, searching for something more to grind against.

Pressing into his thumb until his hand was caught between their bodies. Her own hand slithered between their bodies, tangling with the laces of his trousers before slipping between them and his skin. He was both softer and coarser here. Moaning, she tugged at his hair, wanting to taste the flavor or her skin on his tongue. To swallow it down while she wrapped her fingers around the base of his spear.

Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Aramis Dupuis on May 10, 2020, 12:25:09 AM
Humming warmth rose higher and higher with each pass of her fingers, flowing out along his shoulders, up his neck, down his spine to his groin. Fingernails and knuckles, the resting weigh of her in his lap, the different texture of her nipple against his lips and tongue. Points of contact that split and narrowed his focus. Points of contact that let him relax further, sink deeper into his flush hunger. He wanted his wife. His wife wanted him.

And she would have him, he thought, even the edges and the shadows. It would be Aramis' game to see where she would flinch and where she would push forward.

Her sounds felt amplified, pressed so close. The expansion of her ribs fascinating against the palm at her back. So much skin, free for him to explore. He wanted to track the fluttering muscles of her chest with his mouth, ignoring her insistent fingers to lick and kiss below her breast. He resisted her for a beat, curious, hungry for her response.

But her fingers around his base were another consideration, and he weighed his desires, finding one wanting.

His mouth followed his eyes, from breast to collarbone, collarbone to throat before his lips met hers. His eyes stayed slitted open while he helped her ease his spear form his pants, breathing out through his nose at the release. Blood humming, he rolled his hips up toward her, teasing her with his nearness.
Title: Re: Afternoon Snack [cw]
Post by: Pella Labeau on May 10, 2020, 07:49:14 AM

It made her stomach flutter. A tickle that teased beneath the weight of her breast. Not a place often touched, much less kissed. But behind the tickle was warmth. The skin there was sensitive, flinching at the touch and then pressing in closer. Pella made a small sound, half sigh, half gasp, and curled a thumb over his ear.

His mouth finally came up. Working its way up her body as she worked her fingers around his spear. Flesh puckering where he kissed it, he left a trail of gooseflesh and wanting until she could finally lay her mouth over his. Rewarding him with a long, skillful stroke.

"You're a wicked man." She chided, mouth hungry over his as he teased her. Girth and length measured even though she knew him so intimately already. But she liked the way her palm molded over the tip of his spear. The way his testes sat heavy in her fingers. The taste of his tongue as she sucked it behind her teeth. Her arousal mounting until it was a living, dripping, writhing thing that rocked her body into his.

With a frustrated sigh, Pella shook her arms free of her sleeves and vanished the weight of fabric that ringed her waist. Her kissing grew more hurried. Mouth like a ravenous beast. Breasts thrust against his chest as she angled their bodies just right. Her toes digging into the grass as she tried to fill herself up on Aramis.

Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Aramis Dupuis on May 12, 2020, 01:42:54 AM
Her touch was so novel, always. Aramis might remain distant form the network of their house, an orbiting presence, but Pella was the only one that saw this of him. The one best suited to show his toothy edges.

The drag of her fingers over the shaft of his spear, nails through course hair, the sensitive, twitching skin of his sack; it was almost a threat in itself, if not for the way she kissed. No guarded aggression behind her teeth, even with his tongue in her mouth.

Dress gone, Aramis' arms tightened around her, caught between caste instinct and heated ache. He knew they were tucked away, hidden, safe. He knew. But her bare skin to the air was vulnerability, and his hands flexed over her back and hip, knees drawing up to slide her closer. He bit her bottom lip as he drew back from their kiss, tugging in reprimand for her pushiness before nosing across her throat.

"And you're an impertinent wife," he said against her skin. Impertinent and impatient. It was tempting to tease her further, push farther, but he hadn't the patience. Following the slope of his thighs, boot soles to the ground, he rolled his hips up and pulled her down in one. His hands slid up beneath her hair to hold her still while he adjusted, pushing up in little involuntary rolls until he could reign himself in. Breathe. Stroke his hands down her sides in steadying sweeps to rest on her hips.
Title: Re: Afternoon Snack [cw]
Post by: Pella Labeau on May 30, 2020, 07:47:37 AM

"Impertinent!" Pella narrowed her eyes in play-anger at him. The sting of his bite a reminder that tightened the thread of fear that ran through her arousal. Drawing it taut and taunting. A sharp counter point to the sweeter heat of desire. It made everything more focused. More real.

Licking the place his teeth had scored, Pella leaned into his hands. Hands that clutched and pressed. Her body easing down as his rose up. Aramis' fingertips and forearms like a guide. Here. This way. Down, farther, bodies sliding together with minimal friction. Pella sighed against his temple, eyes closed as she rested her cheek against the crown of his head. Held still while he adapted.

While she adapted. Arms needy as she wrapped them around his shoulders, holding him close while he filled her up and then topped her off. The scent of crushed grass and sweat mingling with the musk of arousal, which smelled similar to the salty sea tang on the air. But it all came back to the sea eventually. They'd been born to it.

Sweeping kisses across his forehead, Pella moved as he released her. Hands traveling down her body, which rose upward between them. Slowly, knees holding the earth down. Thighs twitching as they lifted her body. Then down again as the weight of his palms settled over her hips. Rolling beneath his fingers so she could feel the way they fit together.

Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Aramis Dupuis on June 18, 2020, 01:19:20 AM
"Mm" it started below, his ribacge and ground out, rocks tumbling over sand. Desires melted together, merging into skin, soft, warm. Slick heat and the familiar-unique taste of her.

Menace of a woman, of a wife, indeed. Her breath and then lips across his brow, her arms around his shoulders. Her scent, mixing with the sea air. Salt, skin, sweat - and beneath his grazing teeth, her blood, pumping faster and faster. The hungry flutter of his heart smoothed out, teasing the edges of the shade of him. He leaned up, dragged his mouth against her throat. He pressed the ridge of his teeth against her throat.

Desirable. And Aramis was not one to deny himself his desires.

Hands at hip and shoulder he pulled her closer, pulled them down. Palms over elbows, down flanks. Fingers teasing hair, and Aramis could have stayed there, like that, for far longer than Pella would allow. Even as the change in angle had him hissing between his teeth, pressed from hips to chest and pinned by her, as much as he would allow.

Blinking up at her, eyes heavy lidded, he brought a palm up to rest against her cheek, fingers curling back behind her ear. "Impertinent and deviant." He concluded. "What should be done with you?" His thumb traced below her eye, hips rolling up in a slow drag. Several images floated through his mind, fingers, mouths, teeth, tongue. Pella, spread out below him in much the same way he was then, hair tangling in the grass. The press of her against his chest was grounding and freeing, as warm as the rising rush of his Green as he relaxed into it, letting it hang over them like a fine mist. Deterrent and reminder. 
Title: Re: Afternoon Snack [cw]
Post by: Pella Labeau on July 11, 2020, 07:07:13 AM

He was the comfort of a fire. Warm and soothing. Something to be drawn to again and again in spite of the danger it posed. Fire warmed, it fed and protected. But it also burned. Bites the singed, rages that destroyed.

With Aramis it wasn't all Jewels and Caste that threatened. It was something other. Deeper and darker than even his Green. But he was also comfort. And desire.

The rush of skin prickling need that followed his hands down her body. That chased her hips upward and drew them back down again. Back arched, breasts high. Body singing where they touched and twinging where they parted. The air too moist to dry the bead of sweat that slid down her spine.

Pella looked at him, the blunt edge of his nail blocking his lips from her view. The way his thumb rested beneath her eye made her stomach flutter. "Anything you want." Every you want, her body promised, muscles tightening reflexively. Clinging to him in a way Pella could not clutch at him during an average day, even though sometimes she wished to.

Fingertips brushing his thighs, her toes caught strands of grass as she moved over him. Drawing pleasure up the length of his spear and then down it again. Slowly. So nothing was missed and everything was felt. Breath catching as she teased him, and herself.

Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Aramis Dupuis on July 22, 2020, 12:49:47 AM
Aramis breathed deep, focusing on the prickle of grass against his naked shoulders rather than the alluring, demanding press and slide of Pella. The heat of sex warred with the cooler, toothier parts of him.

The parts Pella poked, prodded, stroked into restlessness at the same time as he tried to guide those edges away from her. What would she say, after all, if he whispered his passive dreams to her? How he imagined how her flesh tasted, tender and red? That even then the bristles and the teeth were closer than she might like, and farther than he normally held them.

That these same parts encouraged a hand across her back to grab the curve of her ribs, to brace her and him as he rolled them, sliding free of her heat as he bent his knees in the follow through to hover above her.

Again, an angle not displeasing. Her hair spread in the grass, the change in shadows, the play of sun across her skin. The facsimile of secrets spread across her in the shape of leaves and and light. Someone more artistic might have described her a feast. Aramis had no such delusions; he knew how long Pella would last, bite for bite. His, bite for bite, greater than any meal and likely never enough if he were to really start.

"Oh, Pella," he murmured, eyes flickering over the soft sweep of her neck. Palms to wrists, thumbs stroking the curve where all her lines came together. "You wouldn't know where to begin if I asked."

Because the reality of it was always so different than the idea. Perhaps Pella would not regret his rule against bringing his outside activities into the family forum. Perhaps it would not go amiss to start taking bites out of the trophies that furnished their house. Perhaps he would start with her.

Slowly, gently, eyes half lidded and mouth soft, Aramis brought one of her hands to his lips. Guiding her fingers, using them to drag down, pulling his bottom lip with them, exposing the soft, shiny inside. "Perhaps I won't." The Green was so warm. So easy to lean into. To think Pella and mine, and let his fingers drift from hers. Easy to slide down her body, drawing swirls and loops, following with his mouth. Not quite kisses, not quite bites, teeth present but guarded. The smooth, thin skin at the junction of pelvis and hip fascinated, but he turned his attention up the naked planes of her instead. "Perhaps I'll just... take."
Title: Re: Afternoon Snack [cw]
Post by: Pella Labeau on July 25, 2020, 06:48:02 AM

Her heart beat fast. Pella had seen rabbits before. Dapple furred creatures that hid in the shadows of the trees. Nora was especially good at spotting them, pointing out their wide, liquid eyes watching them. Pella noticed more the way their noses moved, and their sides heaved.

She imaged they felt the same, she and those rabbits. Hearts beating too fast. Bodies full of adrenaline. Even a shared fear that made her back arch and her stomach coil as Aramis rolled them, pinning her now to the ground. Her muscles strained against him, flight rushing through her body.

But desire turned escape into longing. Pinioned her shoulder blades so that her breasts were thrust toward rather than away. Fingers curling in her palms. "I wouldn't?" She asked him softly, eyes a different soft of liquid than a hares. Maybe he had forgotten between this time and the last just how skilled a lover Pella was. It made her smile.

While his teeth made her tremble. The knot in her stomach drawing taut and cold as the glossy underside of his lip exposed the violent eruptions of his teeth from his gums. Is that what he wanted? What he dare not ask? To devour her down like some luckless creature? A rabbit in a snare, perhaps? But what a delightful snare. Breath catching, Pella squirmed, stroking his face as he released her to...

To what? To nibble his way across her body until it trembled. Just like a frightened creature in the wild. The juncture of her thighs so wet the slid against each other without friction as she squirmed. Hands stroking his hair and shoulders as she flinched and writhed beneath him. Fleeing his teeth but always returning for more.

"There!" She gasped, shamelessly, body bucking against his mouth when it covered a particularly sensitive spot. Oh Mother Night, he was both trial and reward. The monster who frightened her at night and the man who saved her.

Title: Re: Afternoon Snack
Post by: Aramis Dupuis on July 30, 2020, 03:55:43 AM
He had had an intermittent fascination with preserved beetles, butterflies, and small animals when he'd been young. In a lull between trapping, when food and marks were given the same consideration, and he had had to weigh saving against an empty stomach. The island's wildlife was varied and interesting, but meat and feathers and unblemished shells sold, and marks bought food that lasted, clothes with room to grow, shoes and books and things to better a life.

So he'd practiced, pinning butterflies, beetles, small birds. Pella reminded him of them, the way he'd had to handle them so, so carefully to keep all those tiny bones in skin that felt too thin, gossamer wings that ripped at the slightest touch.

He could part her skin from her flesh as thinly as a grape's. Drawn back, mouth pressed against the curve of her bent knee, Aramis watched his own fingers stroke over the crest of her thigh and then out of sight. Again and again, disturbing the fine hairs there.

"No, my heart," he said against the tender flesh beside his mouth, "you wouldn't." And that was a test of... faith, perhaps, that Aramis would rather her not fail.

There are some bars that will always be too high.

Instead he falls back toward her, hands coming up under her legs to hold her hips, nosing along the seam of her hip, the curls of her hair, until he found the moisture between her thighs with lips and tongue. Sweet, almost, like Pella was almost sweet.

He took his teeth to the point of her, teasing there, too, before moving away, nipping the skin to the side, kneeling to force her legs forward, to part around him. "But here is not were I would start."