brave_kreyu | OOM: All Skate Skellig Dream Magic Weirdness?

His eyes are only closed briefly, until she hits his collarbones and then he forces them open, blinking to clear his vision - he wants to see her, and see what she is doing to him, not just feel it.

She is a vision of beauty and power, and watching her touch him in such a way is nearly enough to send him right off the edge by itself. But he manages to settle, nodding appreciatively as she grazes him with her teeth.

"That...that is good. Very good."

She makes a pleased rumbling noise against his skin, unfurls her wings for balance, and lifts a hand to stroke lower on his chest, tease his nipples as she works over his collarbones some more.

When she feels she's pleased him enough there, her mouth moves down to his other nipple, flicking it with her tongue, testing. Unconsciously, her wings mantle over him. MINE.

She meets his gaze as she takes the nipple in her mouth, slow, and sucks gently. Her hand teases his other nipple, circles it slowly with her thumb.

Kreyu manages to get him to do something he will never admit (not that he feels any shame when it comes to his bedroom habits) to ever doing with another partner:

He begs.

Whines, desperately, his hips rising to press closer to her. Fisting his hands into the blanket beneath them, he forces his lungs to expand in his chest.

"More--.

He has to break her gaze, has to look away, focusing his vision to the ceiling - but it doesn't matter because he doesn't need to see her with his eyes to feel what she is doing to his body, how her mouth and hands are moving on him.

"Please. Please, more."

She stops, makes a soothing sound, as her hand trails down his stomach. "I'll give you everything, Skellig. Everything you want."

"Would you let me taste you when you come, take every drop of your release? I'd like that."

She shifts her body down to where he so desperately wants her and she licks his cock in one long stripe from base to tip. She allows herself a moment of smugness before she grasps the base of his cock with one hand and takes the head of his cock in her mouth.

Her hand strokes and her tongue teases and she watches, to see how he will react.

"You can do whatever you want to me," he mutters breathlessly - sounding slightly delirious with pleasure - as he blinks hard, working to clear the spots from his vision. "Whatever...whatever you want with me. Please."

When she takes him into her mouth, he groans loudly at the ceiling.

That is an echo he can hear, something he can focus on. It helps to solidify his grip on this space, tighten his grasp on what he's feeling, his reactions to her touch.

"Slow...slow..." he pants, still desperate. "Slow. Want this...want this to last."

His words, his tone, his desperation, make heat coil in her gut.

She heeds his desires, goes slow. Slow strokes, slow licks, almost lazy.

She's enjoying this very much, seeing her explorations give him such pleasure.

With her wings mantled over him as they are, he does not feel trapped; he feels safe, secure in this place, with her doing these things to him. Safe, even as he feels the threat of being driven towards madness by her overwhelming power and energy tugging at the edge of his mind and soul.

(He doesn't even care. He knows he should care, but he doesn't.)

He reaches a hand from the tangle of blankets to thread his fingertips into her hair, grip loose, simply seeking to deepen their connection as she pleasures him. Her Karma under his fingers, her heartbeat rhythm flowing through his own veins.

Perhaps something in her understands that he could be driven to madness, instinct or some echo from elsewhere or else-when, because the energy and the power shift slightly when he grasps her hair. The tug is different, transmuting as the energy and power flow back into her, a bobbing up and down on the currents of her power and her energy, rather than something that could do him harm.

He rises and falls in the currents of HER as she strokes him, licks his cock, moving but anchored securely in place. (Safety. He's hers and she won't let him be lost.)

She bobs her head, takes more of him in her mouth, then pulls back again, slow and steady.

Whatever it is that eases the current of Karma flowing between then, Skellig is grateful for it (though he doesn't realize it at the time) and his body relaxes under her touch, tension that he hadn't even realized had grown in his muscles fading as she works her mouth over him.

One by one, his senses return, and he groans happily as his vision clears, blinking rapidly as the haze fades from his vision and his mind. Now he is simply feeling punch-drunk once again, and that he can manage, and he shifts his gaze to watch her.

"If this...if this is death, I welcome it. Is not, I know it...it isn't but...Gods...you..."

Another moan overtakes him and he presses his hips upwards, so very close to finding his release.

She takes as much of him into her mouth as she can and sucks, gently but firmly. She wraps both hands around the rest of his cock, strokes him just the way he showed her.

She wants him to come, wants to have every last bit of his release, his pleasure.

His movements, his responses to her touch become more erratic, his groans become more wanting, his mind desperately seeking to hold out for every last moment possible. It is a losing battle, and he knows it.

Not wanting to hurt her, but needing contact, he pulls his hand from her hair and wraps his fingers around her shoulder instead.

kreyu
my dragon

It is only another brief flurry of heartbeats before his control falters, and he cries out - and although it is not quite as loud or as similar as the shriek of a barn owl, there are definitely aspects of the sound that are Not Human - as he comes undone beneath her, the white-hot fire of pleasure overtaking his entire body, mind, and soul.

Kreyu is not bothered by the Not Human aspects of his cry, she's only pleased that she's made him come undone, given him his release.

She keeps working him until he's completely spent, swallowing his release down without choking. Then she crawls back up his body, presses her face into his neck. She tucks her wings over them both like a blanket to keep him comfortable while he recovers.

Her Skellig.

Recovery is going to take him a moment, after that intense of an orgasm. His breath is ragged in his chest even once she has crawled her way back up his body, and he finds himself blinking away tears from his vision, wetness rimming his eyes.

His entire body is shaking, but her bodyweight against him, her wings tucked over their bodies tangled together, it helps to slow the tremors after a few moments. Once he can move his hands without them trembling, wipes at his eyes before moving his hand to stroke his fingers over her hair.

And because he knows she will feel it in his energy, he speaks.

"M'alright."

(He is not sad, by any means - simply overwhelmed with the ability to Feel, to touch things within himself that he hasn't had access to in longer than he can remember.)

"More than alright."

Kreyu is visibly relieved when he says that he is alright. "I was afraid that I had hurt you, that I was...too much."

"Do you want to tell me about what you're feeling? You don't have to," she adds. "But I would like to know, if you are willing to tell me."

"No, you have not hurt me...far from it." He reaches up and scrubs a his hand over his face, rubbing at his eyes again. "I just have not felt such a strong connection before, when I have been involved with another partner. That was..."

Part of his mind pulls but it is met with only haze and darkness, that tendril of familiarity that he cannot seem to grasp, no matter how hard he tries.

"I have always had to hide my true self. To be free..."

He swallows hard, clears his throat. Moves his hand back to stroke again at her hair, settling his body in as close to hers as he can get.

"Accepted. Acceptance," he corrects himself. "I have not known that feeling in...a very long time. I think my mind has just...forgotten how to react."

"Oh, Skellig. I'm so sorry that you've had to hide yourself," her voice has tears in it. She hugs him tightly.

"You deserved more from them, better," she declares. "As you said I deserved better treatment from a man than being mounted like a cow."

That reply coaxes a legitimate laugh from him, though he cannot hide the tinge of bitterness and disgust as that comment of hers from earlier returns to his mind.

"You are far more deserving of better treatment than being bred like livestock," he assures her. "And you are right - I deserved better also."

Skellig relaxes into her grip, grateful. Safe. He yawns softly.

"Speaking of your treatment...I would lay with you, after we rest?"

"I would like that," she replies, flushing slightly. "Best to rest during the heat of the day anyway, during the Dry season."

She could fall asleep easily, curled up with him like this, and she does.

When Skellig wakes again, the sun is setting, the heat less oppressive. Kreyu is asleep still, curled up with him.

He wakes silently, but somewhat suddenly - his only movement the blinking of his eyes as he adjusts to the lower light in the room, the small fire having only the hint of embers remaining. He can sense that she is still asleep in his arms, so he does not move his body, merely shifts his head to allow both ears to listen closely to what he can hear beyond this space.

voices, somewhat indistinguishable at first. footsteps on dirt and sand. somewhere, a person fetches water from the river, pouring it into a wooden bucket. animals moving from their pens. a child laughing. a stronger voice, yet still hushed, muttering about the violent attack on the raiders, the work of the witch and the demon she summoned to run them off - though some were killed, their bodies left for the scavengers. an infant cries, soothed by a woman. mother? sister? he isn't sure. another chitter of conversation, again about the witch and her demons, laying together in some form of 'ritual sacrifice'...

It is that last part that causes him to huff a laugh quietly, amused.

His laugh brings her up out of sleep, blinking in the dim light. "Something amusing?" she asks, kissing him on the cheek.

"I have been awake a short time, allowing myself to listen..." Barely moving his hand, he motions at his ear, tipping his head before he drifts his fingertips vaguely in the direction of the main part of the village.

"Your neighbors seem to think that I am a demon you have summoned to aid in protecting the village from the bandits...and now that some of them have been killed, we have been performing..." a smirk pulls at his lips. "Dark rituals."

Kreyu is surprised. "You have very sharp ears, to hear that."

She does laugh at the description. "A demon, really?" She rolls her eyes.

Then, she grins. "I have read that sex can be used in magic, though I've no experience with it myself. Rituals for fertility, that sort of thing."

"Though those all involve a man laying with a woman." He DID mention wanting to lay with her, before their nap.

"Magic and sex can most definitely be intertwined with rituals," Skellig says easily. "And it does not have to include just a man and a woman..."

He trails off, not sure if he wants to go down that topic of discussion with her, in this moment when she is pressed against him in such a perfect manner, their bodies a puzzle with two pieces.

"I have been called a demon before...and worse things. I find it more amusing than disparaging. I have learned to pay them no mind, those who do not See." He takes her hand in his, lifting it to his mouth to kiss at her palm. "Though I would hate to disappoint those who would seek to spread such rumors tonight by the fireside."

"Would make sense, there was a great deal of energy in the air between us, earlier."

She shivers when he kisses her palm. "So would I." She flushes. "You need not worry about getting me with child, when you lay with me." She does not want him to worry about that! "And if what the gossips say is true, that a woman hurts, bleeds, when she first lays with a man, I care not." Her expression is determined.

"They likely speak the truth," Skellig admits, his expression softer. He is obviously not a woman, and not experienced it himself, but there have been other sources he has gathered information from. "But I will not just 'take you' as another man might, with no regard for your comfort."

He allows his mouth to wander her fingertips, trailing over her wrist, her forearm, kisses tracing invisible lines over her skin.

"And I...I do not believe my kind is capable of fathering offspring," he adds. "Or at least, I am not. It has not been a concern before, when I have laid with another."

(Granted, many of those encounters were one-night stands. But he would be able to sense a child of his, if one had been born. Part of him just knows this, though he isn't certain of how he knows.)

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