OOM All-Skate-Skellig

[brave_kreyu]

(OOC: Warning for adult content, mild drawing blood and tasting blood.)

Kreyu has rooms at Milliways, and the one suited to her human shape is relatively modest. There are a few pieces of her hoard scattered about, carved wooden mementos, wall hangings, a jeweled hand mirror.

The bed is large enough for several people, because even in human shape she tends to sprawl, and covered in a blanket in deep green.

Comments

[27_53]

Navigating the bar was easy enough - even without wearing his coat, Skellig paid no mind to those patrons who might have let their gaze linger a moment more than what would be considered polite - the opinion of others is the last thing on his mind, currently.

His soul is practically humming with electricity at this point.

Once Kreyu has closed the door, and her attention returns to him, he (respectfully, carefully, this is her nest and he is a visitor) closes the short distance between them. His voice is low, and polite - but definitely not entirely innocent.

"I would request now, that you repeat that."

[brave_kreyu]

"Gladly" she purrs. She closes the last distance between them, kisses him softly.

She wraps an arm around his waist, light, not wanting him to perhaps feel trapped.

She's gentle, but she WANTS, will deepen the kiss after a little while.

[27_53]

Skellig is more than willing to let her lead him; he responds to her arm around his waist with a hand at her hip, closing the last bit of distance.

And while is typically the hunter, the predator - he does not feel trapped - even with the knowledge that she is infinitely stronger than he could ever dream to be. When she deepens the kiss, his wings flare just slightly, almost protectively (over them both) as he responds in kind. His heartrate (already higher than any standard human) surges beneath his skin.

She is good at that.

[brave_kreyu]

She likes the feeling of his hand on her hip. "Would you like me to be wearing less?" she asks, voice low and breathy.

She can feel his heart racing almost as if it were her own. Her wings flare a little, meet his. She's never done THIS with feathered wings before.

[27_53]

"Please." It is both a request and a response, rolled together into one. Wanting.

Never taking his eyes off of her, and because fair is fair, he takes a half-step back to distance them, reaching for the hem of his shirt. It is easily somehow removed, clearing his wings without difficulty. His feathers rustle as he adjusts. His skin is pale, bone structure slightly more prominent than that of an average human male, his collarbones well-defined. A few scars litter his torso, evidence of old injuries long-since healed; a black-ink tattoo wraps around his right bicep, a random tribal design which holds no true meaning.

[brave_kreyu]

The shadows wrapped around her dissolve with but a thought, leaving her entirely naked. There is only one scar visible from the front, part of a long healed gash that just peeks over the top of her left shoulder. It is longer when viewed from the back or felt with the fingers, the line curving down between her shoulder blades. Someone cut her down with a sword, once, from behind. Someone she trusted that she shouldn't have.

"You are lovely," she says, and means it. She steps close, runs her fingers over his collarbones, his scars, the tattoo.

[27_53]

Skellig laughs as her fingertips brush over his skin. Her touch is practically like fire to his senses. His hands fall to the curve of her waist, his lips finding the space at the underside of her jaw, where the curve trails towards her ear.

"I am now overdressed." He grumbles, playfully, into her skin. "You are stunning."

[brave_kreyu]

She tilts her head to give him easier access to her neck, her throat, to let his lips go where he wants.

"I don't know about that," Kreyu replies, "But I could help you take the rest off?" She places both hands on his hips, caresses through fabric.

That...might be more tricky than she's expecting. Guess who's never run into the concept of zippers or buttons as clothing fasteners before?

[27_53]

His fingers are in much better shape than they were a few hours ago, the long-standing damage of his arthritis and decades of malnutrition having been melted away during the time he spent working them through her feathers.

"Would like that, very much."

Skellig keeps his hands close to hers, moving them backwards away from the door. While she may have the advantage of shifting shadows...he still has to untie his boots. He drops back to sit on a low bench near the bed, pulling her with him onto his lap.

The boots can wait another moment. He wants to let his mouth find hers again, first, his fingertips tracing upwards along her spine to her shoulders, to where her wings meet her body.

[brave_kreyu]

She follows him eagerly, glad to be pulled onto his lap. She kisses him, hungrier this time, WANTING. But he startles a pleased gasp from her when he runs his hands along her spine to where her wings meet her body. Her wings twitch where they're folded against her back, like they want to open.

She's trying to at least start to get his pants off, but the fastenings are giving her problems. She gives up after a bit, moves to stroking his chest and stomach with her hands instead.

[27_53]

Skellig shudders when her hands skate along his stomach, breaking the kiss only to growl under his breath, slightly breathless - she is a good kisser, and he is appreciative of it.

"M'still overdressed," his voice is thick, husky. "Fix that...I will fix--"

He contemplates their options quickly, his eyes darting throughout the room. They fall to the bed - that incredible bed - and he nods towards it. It is only steps away, but like this he silently dislikes the idea of having to break physical contact with her.

"--go, for a moment?"

[brave_kreyu]

She chuckles softly. "There go my attempts to look smooth, damn fastenings."

She slides off of his lap, but her right hand keeps contact with him as long as she can. He's not the ONLY one who doesn't want to break physical contact.

She eases herself onto the bed, being careful of her wings, but she doesn't take her eyes off of him.

[27_53]

"They are fickle."

It has been quite some time since another being has looked at Skellig the way that Kreyu is looking at him, but he doesn't break her gaze as he brings a foot up, fingers working easily to swiftly untie his boots. First the left, then the right.

This is much easier with healed hands. He will have to thank her properly, for that.

His socks hit the floor next, before he stands, his own wings flaring once more as he stretches, fingers working at the button and fly of his jeans, then his boxers. Everything hits the floor in a heap, kicked aside to deal with later.

And then he stalks after her, crawling carefully onto the bed at her feet. Respectfully. After all, this is her nest, and even though he deeply wants, he will still seek permission to come much closer.

[brave_kreyu]

She reaches out a hand in invitation. "You can come as close as you please," she tells him. "I would like you to be closer."

Her voice turns husky. "And I think you would like to touch and taste me, hm?"

[27_53]

The grin that crosses his face in response is answer enough, reaching for her outstretched hand - fingers interlocking with hers - as he crawls closer, moving his way ever-so-slowly up her body, his skin barely grazing hers.

"One of the ideas I had."

And there are more, but he will get to them in a minute. First, he's going to take the lead and 'properly' kiss her, to thank her for how his hands feel, for how his whole soul feels.

He might be a bit adrenaline-drunk, but he doubts she'll complain.

[brave_kreyu]

She shivers delightedly as his skin grazes her, eyes darkening further with desire.

The kiss feels good, and she's hungry for anything he wants to give her with the kiss. She returns the 'proper' kiss, seeking to both feed his hunger for her and to make him hungry for more. Her legs wrap around him, run up and down in teasing ways.

[27_53]

His physical form is lighter than a typical adult human of his size (hollow bones), but he's still solid, especially when he wants to be. The way her legs wrap around him? Definitely encourage him moving closer, seeking greater skin-to-skin contact.

she is alive and he is alive and this is real and it has been much too long

One hand of his releases hers and slides lower, his fingertips finding their way to the curve of her ribcage, the small of her waist, the swell of her hip, the smooth skin on the outside of her thigh. His mouth wanders also, his lips seeking her jawline, her earlobe, the hollow at the base of her throat.

He nips, there, lightly. Testing, to gauge her reaction.

[brave_kreyu]

She moans in pleasure as his hand and his mouth move. She presses into his touch, pushes herself toward his mouth as it wanders.

When his fingertips find their way to the outside of her thigh, she shifts, parts her legs more in invitation.

Her breathe catches when he nips the hollow at the base of her throat. "Feels good, when you do that," she tells him, voice thick and husky.

Her free hand wanders up his side, across his back, seeks sensitive places on his wings that she groomed so carefully earlier. He's likely to get a little...ruffled.

[27_53]

His wings have 'suffered' much worse than the attention she is carefully paying to them now; he sucks in a breath, an involuntary groan hitching tight in his throat when she hits a particularly 'wired' area of his feathers, along the edge of his shoulderblade.

"More of that," he grumbles into her skin. His mouth has sunk lower, lips pressed over her heart. He can feel it beating beneath the surface of her skin, and it encourages him to continue his explorations.

It is less of a request, and more of a command, this time. (Though if she keeps up with it, she'll likely have him pleading.)

His fingertips continue seeking, following her invitation, along the inside of her thigh, then further still where he knows his touch is definitely wanted.

There are going to be feathers everywhere, at this rate.

[brave_kreyu]

She's happy to oblige him, hand working over that sensitive area along the edge of his shoulderblade, teasing, stroking, rubbing sensitive places. "I can take orders well," she replies, mischievous and wanting him to make that groan again.

"Do you like the taste of me?" she asks, breathless, husky, when his lips are still pressed over her heart.

His fingers feel good between her legs, and she moans. He can surely feel that she's getting wet with arousal already as she shifts her body so that his fingertips rub against her clit. Her wings twitch under her, then half open of their own volition.

There are going to be so many feathers, feathers everywhere! Like a flock of pigeons exploded.

[27_53]

"Gods, yes."

A shudder runs hard down his spine when she shifts against him, his fingers pressing into her. There are sparks at the corners of his vision, even with his eyes closed. He has not had this much Light in his blood in forever, and it makes it difficult to focus. But not impossible.

His attention shifts to just what he's doing to her with his hand; thumb circling her clit as she presses towards him, wanting. He adjusts his posture on the bed, lifting his weight onto an elbow, to allow his mouth to wander lower, lips and tongue chasing a sheen of sweat towards her navel, teeth grazing her hipbones.

And then he pauses, and looks up at her. The look in his eyes is entirely dark, wicked, and a little bit of a smug smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth, because he's pretty sure he knows the answer already.

"I would taste more, if you'd allow it?"

[brave_kreyu]

He's probably entitled to be a bit smug, because her eyes are dark with want, and she shivers at his question. "Please, taste as much as you'd like."

Her grin turns a little wicked. "Sometimes, the hero devours the dragon instead of the other way around."

[27_53]

Skellig laughs at that comment, though it's a bit breathless, panting softly as his lips are still paying close attention to the patch of skin over her hip. "Not a hero. But..."

He places one last -for now- lingering, delicate kiss to that patch of skin. "...what the dragon wants..."

His hand shifts to her hip, pinning her lightly in place on the bed, as he ducks his head lower and replaces the earlier attention his fingertips were paying her inner thigh with his lips. His voice is but a whisper against her flesh.

"...the dragon gets."

And then he tastes her, as desired. As they both desire.

[brave_kreyu]

Oh, OH, that feels good. A low, involuntary, groan is pulled from her as he begins to taste. Her free hand buries itself in his hair, mute encouragement to keep doing what he's doing. She strokes his scalp with her fingers, but it's hard to concentrate on anything but what she's feeling.

There will be plenty for him to taste. Her wings snap fully open as she moans in pleasure, feels it building, winding tight toward a release.

"If you keep doing that," she gasps out. "I'm going to..." but the words break off into an inarticulate sound of pleasure as he does SOMETHING with his tongue.

[27_53]

When she speaks, there is a brief second where a fragment of his brain considers - he is tempted to stop, to lift his head and meet her gaze, and ask if she would prefer he switch methods.

But then her wings flare, her fingers tighten in his hair and her words splinter off, and he has his answer.

Do. Not. Stop.

Repeat as necessary until the goal is achieved. And right now, his goal is pleasuring her. Her essence is running through his energy; she is intoxicating like this, and he is deeply enjoying making her feel this way.

And when her fingers tighten in his hair, he can't help but groan. He likes that, very much.