brave_kreyu | OOM: All Skate Skellig Dream Magic Weirdness?

Pleased that she is taking some form of control, he bucks his hips gently against hers when she grabs his ass, ensuring that she is 'reminded' of the ultimate endgame of their wrestling in this bed.

(He would not have her simply believe that it is acceptable, normal for a woman to allow a man to pleasure himself without her consent, without her will to be known. So many men will try - and succeed - to take advantage. He has seen evidence, where he has been called before. So he will do his best to teach her, in this moment.)

"Like it when you touch me like that."

He's not going anywhere.

Kreyu DOES know better than that, the local midwife made sure of it within an hour of her first arriving in the village.

She laughs when he bucks his hips against hers. "Like this?" she asks, shifting her hand on his ass. "Or this?" Her hand shifts from the back of his head to his shoulder blades, brushes through the feathers there.

"Both," he growls under his breath, showing his appreciation by rolling them - carefully, mindful of her wings - to shift so he is on top of her.

(He's never laid with another partner with wings before that his mind can remember, but somehow he just knows how to move them - his hands, his wings, her body, her wings - as to minimize any discomfort.)

"Your hands hold power," he adds, a groan escaping his throat as she winds her fingers into his feathers. "More than you may realize."

Edited 2024-03-26 00:05 (UTC)

"Do they?" she purrs. "Why don't you tell me about the power in my hands, hm?" Her grin is wicked.

One hand caresses his ass and his lower back. Her other hand stays wound into his feathers, searching for places that will drive him wild under her touch. (She doesn't know how she KNOWS they exist, but she does.)

"When you touch my shoulder -- right there -- you send sparks straight down my spine." He lifts his weight onto one elbow, to better angle his groin to grind against her hip beneath him. "Straight down my spine."

She touches the spot again, and he groans encouragingly into her throat, kissing at her skin. "Sends a jolt straight to my cock, makes me want to take you...ravish you for hours. While you touch me...everywhere...with those hands."

It is mostly a tantalizing tease in his voice, but there is an undercurrent of promise, a hint of a 'threat'. And he also laughs.

"Then your neighbors will have no doubt as to what you are up to with your demon."

"I like that idea," she tells him. "Something to aim for once I've gotten some more experience with you," her tone is tantalizing tease too, although tinged with curiosity. "Learn the basics before I start pushing your limits."

She moans softly as he grinds against her hip. "If I kept touching you right here," she teases that spot on his wings, "would you come for me, Skellig? Make that lovely cry of yours and terrify my superstitious neighbors?"

"If you kept at it...I'm sure you could get me to come for you, cry for you...no matter where you touch me."

Something else to aim for, for the future.

She will notice the way he involuntarily shudders every time she curls her fingers just so into that spot under his feathers - his wings attempting to shift, flare, resettle themselves.

Cupping one of her breasts in his hand, he allows his fingertips to tease her nipple, twisting gently while at the same time, sucking at her throat with his mouth.

"Terrify your neighbors."

She moans as he teases her breasts, sucks at her throat. And she can't help curling her fingers just so into that spot under his feathers, just a little more. "Something to try tomorrow, perhaps," she gasps.

"I want you to come inside of me tonight," she tells him, voice low, rough. "Can't have you spending yourself quite yet." There's a bit of teasing in the tone, but HEAT too, want.

Her other hand leaves his back, moves to his other wing to tease a less wired spot.

Something in her words causes part of his brain to slip, his control wavering as the heat of desire rises in his blood, surging into his chest and sinking into his stomach.

"First have to make certain that you've been satisfied properly."

That is more of a threat, less of a tease. So is the kiss that follows as he presses his mouth to hers again, grinding his body against hers, pinning her lightly to the mattress beneath under his weight.

"I look forward to it," she tells him, eyes dark with want.

She laughs with delight into his mouth as he kisses her, grinds his body against her, pins her to the mattress. She's not afraid at all, not of this, not of him.

She wraps one arm around his waist and the other around his neck as she slips her tongue between his lips, teases his mouth.

There is something deeply personal about a kiss, to Skellig.

Perhaps it is the closeness. Perhaps it is the willingness to let go of control of what it takes to stay alive (breathing, oxygen, with his mouth pressed hard against hers) in exchange for finding pleasure. Perhaps it is the fact that he can hear every tiny sound she makes when they kiss, when he touches her, when he moves his body against hers. Perhaps it is the fact that if he chose to open his eyes, hers would be right there, windows to her soul. Her soul which wants him, in this moment.

She can touch him all she wants, bring him to his release with her hands, stroke his feathers or his cock and drive him wild. But when she kisses him...

It is different.

Perhaps she will be able to tell.

He allows his hands to roam her body as much as he can as she kisses him, as he kisses her. Not hesitating to use his wings for balance, to allow his weight to to rest against her - she is stronger than she looks, after all.

She can tell, yes, even if she doesn't know precisely what's going through his head. She kisses him like she wants him, yes, but it's more than that. She kisses him like she LOVES him, because she does. (It makes no logical sense, and she couldn't name the feeling in her soul right now if she tried, but that doesn't make the love FALSE.)

Her hands wander over his body, trying to give him the power in her hands everywhere she can reach. She's stronger than she looks, could take his weight and more if needed.

His wings flare over his shoulders, protectively, possessively, when he feels the shift in her kiss, in her mood. He doesn't quite understand it at the time when it happens, and he certainly doesn't know why, but none of that matters in this place, this fraction of a second in whatever time and universe he's fallen into.

(He wants her, and he only breaks their kiss when it's clear that either one of them needs to breathe.)

He gives her more of his touch - sliding one of his hands between their bodies to seek out the arousal between her legs, fingers grazing over her clit to bring her greater pleasure. He gives her more of his weight to bear, his hips pressing eagerly towards his hand, towards her.

His motions are almost automatic (but not impersonal), muscle memory (how can it be a memory, when he has never been with her before) taking over. This just feels so right, so familiar.

"Yes," she gasps as his fingers graze her clit. Then she starts kissing him again, the sounds of her pleasure muffled by his mouth. The more he touches, the more aroused she becomes. She tries to buck her hips toward his hand, toward him, but his weight holds her in position.

She touches him everywhere she can reach, grasping, teasing, WANTING. It feels familiar, right, as if some part of her has done this with him before.

Up until this point, despite as far as his mind has wandered, Skellig has managed to remain in control of his actions, of his energy and his movements, contain his feelings. But with the surging power that is growing between their bodies and their minds, the Karma pooling around them in her space, he feels himself slip just slightly towards the edge of himself.

(Briefly, he wavers over the borderline of what makes him what, who he is, how he is -- something like you, something like a beast, something like a bird, something like an angel, something like that -- but it is just that. Brief.)

And then he snaps back, his motions slightly startled (hyperaware, not fear) as she rocks her hips against his, moans against his mouth. This is where he is, in this moment, where he wants to be. Where he needs to be, with her.

"Kreyu," he whispers. "I would have you."

"Yes, please," she gasps back.

She knows it might hurt, that she might bleed, she doesn't CARE. (There's also no telling what getting her blood on his cock would DO to Skellig in the moment.)

She trusts him to have her, to please them both.

Trust.

It is a very valued emotion, to Skellig. And he can feel it, coursing through her veins, along with the multitude of other bits and pieces he has been picking up on throughout their entire time together in this place.

He knows she trusts him. He also trusts her. Reaching between their bodies, realigning their hips, pulling her closer, touching her (she's more than ready for him, and the way she moans every time he touches her threatens to push him further towards the edge himself, but he tampers the raw rush of lust and want down deep into his belly) and stroking his fingers over his cock, moving and entering her carefully to allow her to respond, to adjust, to guide him.

Pleasure, pain, want, all of it is natural and he knows she trusts him.

"Slow, please," she asks. It's not PAIN precisely, but he's definitely larger than anything that's been inside of her before and it's a stretch to accommodate him.

She moans. "Going to feel so good once I adjust, but slow."

"Just talk to me," he says, casually - like it is the most straightforward and simplest thing in the world. "I would do whatever you would have me do."

Not wanting to overwhelm her, but also unable to keep from doing something, he presses his lips to her jawline, trailing soft and delicate kisses along the underside of her chin.

"Can take a little more of you," she tells him. "Need a little more of you inside of me."

She laughs. "Just, don't push in all the way at once."

"Not gonna do that," he promises - and it is a legitimate promise. "And I wouldn't, even if I wasn't your first."

He leans his body over her, giving her what she wants, watching her face closely - stopping when she silently signals hold on, need a moment. He lets a hand wander to her chest, fingers lightly caressing her, finding ways to shift her focus to other areas of stimulation and pleasure without being too distracting. A touch here, a kiss there. Slow and easy, almost lazy.

She's responsive to his touches, to him shifting slowly inside of her.

Eventually, he's in as far as he can go, and she moans as he hits somewhere inside of her that sends sparks through her nerves.

She rocks her hips, her body knowing that she's ready for him to move, to thrust in and out of her, if he wants to. "Want you, please."

The self-restraint and the waiting to this point has been mildly taxing on him, but not insurmountable - not when the reward is so very, very worth it.

"You shall have me - all parts of me."

And he wants her - all parts of her. The rhythm he sets is gentle, slow as he moves against her, then coaxes her to move with him, letting her set their pace. It is in some ways, painfully slow (for him), but other ways, it allows him to focus, to feel every part of her body beneath him, her energy moving over him.

She moans as he starts to move, gasps in pleasure. "Feels so good," she tells him.

They move together, her pleasure, her power, moving through his body and back into her. She's warm and wanting under him, around him, full of Light. Eventually, she wants more, needs more, speeds up their pace.

She hopes it feels as good for him as it does for her, right now.

With other prior partners, he has rarely gotten the time to properly explore their bodies, discover the rhythms that run beneath the surface of the skin, find out what exactly makes them tick. Kreyu is different, with her power running between the both of them; he finds it exhilarating and very, very pleasurable.

Matching her wants, he gives himself over to his own needs and desires, exchanging control when it just feels right. An ebb and flow between the two of them.

Words are a struggle, when he's this deep in his head. But he manages to praise her, encourage her, thank her for the way she's making him feel.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject