brave_kreyu | OOM All Skate Skellig Dream Magic Weirdness -Part Three

"I am a very rich man," he says, voice light. "For out of all the treasures in this room...the greatest is right here beneath my hands."

He skates his fingertips over her belly, her ribs, her waist. The tone of his voice shifts a little darker, possessive (but not greedy) and full of desire, gratitude. "And it is all mine."

And he intends to claim it here, let no one question just what energy will remain in the echoes of these walls for those who may stumble upon this hidden city next. He coaxes her leg over his shoulder, ducks his head to kiss at the inside of her thigh, before his lips and tongue move to where she really wants him to be - her arousal between her legs, working her eagerly towards ecstasy.

"Yours," she confirms. "Your mate."

The sounds he drags out of her when he puts his mouth on her arousal are loud, wild, primal things. He can feast, glut himself on her arousal, her pleasure, as he kisses, licks, sucks gently on her clit. So many sensitive places to touch, to rub, to tease! And if he thrusts his tongue inside her like his cock, he'll make her buck against his mouth, pull such sweet whimpers of pleasure from her, have the taste of her all over his tongue.

He can tell she's close, feel her body quivering. Just a little more, and she'll come. Or he could back off, make this last longer...

As much as he would gladly hear her cries of release echoing through the empty space of these vaulted ceilings, he knows that the pleasure will be even greater multiplied if he backs off, allows her to relax slightly.

"Should remember to breathe," he mutters, wickedly as he pulls in a shaking breath, lifting his head from her body, smirking up at her. His fingertips skate patterns along the inside of her thighs, the tops and sides. "Wouldn't do for me to pass out in the midst of devouring you..."

But his attentions do not return to her clit or her arousal - instead he shifts his focus to other parts of her body, crawling his way back up over her, his wings wrapping closer around them. He's actively teasing her now, drawing out every touch, keeping things featherlight and tantalizing, not giving her what he knows she wants of him. He can sense her 'frustration', and he plays off it, his lips just barely grazing the curve of her breast, taking care to avoid her nipple.

She writhes under him, WHINES in want, when he just barely grazes the curve of her breast. "Tease," she gasps. "Going to drag it out, next time I have my mouth on you!"

"I am simply catching my breath," he 'protests', laughing against her skin. His tongue flickers over her nipple, eliciting a groan from her - he'll give her a little of what she wants of him. "Love it when you get wound tight like this, every touch of mine creating sparks."

His mouth wanders to her other nipple, then moves higher, tongue tracing that echo of a scar she has not yet gotten, teeth grazing her collarbones, lips settling in the hollow of her throat. His eventual goal is her mouth, so she can wrestle with him in an effort to 'ease' her frustrations, but he takes his sweet time in getting there.

Also as a 'hint', he presses his cock against her thigh, moaning happily at the contact - he wants to be buried within her, but not yet, there is still more pleasure he will coax from her first.

At her lips, he hovers, pausing so very close but not kissing her. Waiting to see what she would do.

For all that he's on top of her, that doesn't mean she can't pounce again! She seizes his mouth, her kiss deep, hungry, as she rolls them over, mindful of his wings. Once he's on his back, she rubs her entire body against his, growling low in want.

She shifts her hips a little, makes his cock rub between her legs, across her arousal. Yes, that's better!

That was NOT at all what he was expecting her to do, but it is a welcome surprise, evident by the way his laugh shifts to a deep, throaty groan of want.

Even with her now in 'control', he can still play the part of the tease.

"That's what you want from me, is it?" He gasps, playfully. "To sit astride me, like the Queen once did here in her chambers with her King? To claim me...and all this treasure, this hoard as yours?"

Dragons like treasures. And there are many in this room.

"Yes," she growls, sucking and licking at his throat. "Will, ALL mine."

Her grin turns wicked. "After mate claims me, wrapped in his wings."

She rubs his cock across her arousal, hips bucking. "So close, NEED. NEED to come."

She sticks her fingers inside of her self, slicks up his cock with her arousal. Then, she rubs her arousal against his cock, and rubs, motions getting faster, wilder, until she comes with his name on her lips! The cry echoes in the space.

His senses briefly misfire when she comes, his hearing overwhelmed by the rapid-fire beat of her heart in her chest and the echoes of his name from her lips, reverberating off of all the varied surfaces in the room. But it only takes a moment for him to recover.

He'll let her catch her breath, of course, his hands supporting her body as she presses against him.

But he's kissing her as much as he can manage without depriving her of oxygen, because he also needs. He knows inwardly they just 'discussed' mounting him, claiming him, but plans are subject to change - once he's refocused enough, he easily flips them back over, settling her body beneath his with his bodyweight pressed against hers, regaining 'control'.

Words are still failing him, so kisses will have to do instead. And his wings, which he has brought up higher, covering her, shielding her from the prying eyes that would seek to see them in this private space.

Kisses will do just fine! She meets his passion with her own, wants to sate his NEED.

She laughs in delight when he flips them back over, her grin wicked.

And his wings, OH his wings. She feels protected, safe, with his wings like this. And his feathers brush against her skin, teasing, soft, delicate touches.

As he told her earlier - so rarely has he been free to show his true shape and form to others, let alone with a bedpartner. So the feelings of safety and protection do not only transfer to her, but also to him.

(And there is something erotic and arousing to him about that desire for safety being fulfilled, that he never knew he craved so greatly until he found himself wandering in the desert.)

A thought strikes him, which he did not consider before - and may already have broken unaware, his mind hazy with lust. "Is it safe to speak your name, among these treasures?" He asks, peppering her jawline with his lips. "I would not wish to put you at risk."

She has already called out his name, and he has no qualms of it, for he is an unknown.

"It is safe," she tells him. "It will be a century at least before he is flesh again, years after that before he remembers who he is. I will take steps before we leave, and time will do the rest for us."

She would be glad that she is giving him what he craves, even if he only learned of that craving recently.

"And greedy though I may be, we can not carry off ALL of these coins. That's what acquaintances with a dislike of Heka are good for." Her expression is mischievous, wicked, gleeful.

"Good." He is grateful that they will both be safe, mostly for the fact he would be very unhappy (and likely do something stupid in her defense) if Heka should try to come after her again.

Skellig kisses her cheerfully.

"We could always make repeat trips," he suggests, though he knows that they will likely get 'plenty' from this excursion alone. "Though we would have to find better places to hide things. I will have to work on that once we return home."

Home. It is a comforting thought.

"Ensure my greedy dragon is well satisfied," he continues, allowing his hand to slip lower on her body, teasing between her legs with his fingers - she is already wanting him and ready for him, but he just wants to be certain before he would lay claim to her.

"You are so very sweet," she tells him. The idea of him helping her tend her hoard is an attractive one.

"Mhm, yes," she gasps. "So greedy for you, all of you." Her body arches toward him. "Greedy for your pleasure, for you to claim me."

"Wings feel so good, on my skin. Soft, teasing."

"I have noticed that you seem to enjoy it, when I am a bit of a tease."

Her arching towards his fingers, the tremble in her thighs is enough encouragement that she is wanting more of him; he shifts his body to settle between his legs, replacing his fingers with his cock and pushing inside of her.

He is more than a bit of a tease, as difficult as it is to move ever-so-slowly until he is buried fully in her, lingering in place as he forces his own lungs to settle, his heart to calm down. His wings shift closer, touching her in more places, her upper arms and hips.

"My beautiful dragon," he whispers, lips on her mouth. "My Kreyu."

She laughs. "A bit, yes."

She sighs in pleasure as he fills her. "Hm. Yes, just like that." She shivers when his wings touch her on her upper arms and hips, luxuriating in the sensation. "My beautiful owl, my Skellig," she whispers back.

"You might be able to hold me with your wings alone, especially if you lightened me," she muses. "Enclose me entirely while you claim your mate."

Edited 2024-04-14 19:23 (UTC)

"Exploring the unknown," he chuckles, wrapping his arms around her as he tentatively 'tests' just that, easily able to lift her off the bed - he has plenty of energy in his reserves right now. "You would dance with me, above these silks."

This is not something he has tried before.
But it should work.

Focusing his concentration for a moment, stilling his mind, before he is able to 'lift' both of them - not far, just simply enough that he can fully envelop her with his wings, his delicate feathers tickling the back of her thighs, her calf muscles, her ass.

Once he's 'steady', he rocks his hips firmly against hers, encouraging her to move - the lack of resistance is a little strange, but he adjusts it to hold them in the space without drifting.

"Never tried this before." He kisses her. "I think it might become a favorite, you wrapped up in my wings."

"Feels so good," she tells him. "Having you wrapped around me, INSIDE me."

She rocks her hips against him, moves. And the feathers stroke her, drag across her skin as they move. Her breath catches in her throat every time.

She kisses him, deeply. Her love, her mate, her Skellig.

With her breath catching in her throat, her body moving against his as he bucks his hips against hers - he wonders if he can bring her to climax a second time before he loses his own control? (He isn't sure, but he's damn sure as hell going to try.)

Some of his focus shifts to maintaining his thought process required to keep them aloft, but the majority remains on her body beneath him, his hands free to wander, sliding to her chest and toying with her nipples, massaging her breasts.

"So very good," he agrees, shuddering as her hips meet his in just a certain way, shockwaves radiating in his stomach. "I am s-so very lucky."

Lucky to have found her, lucky to have been able to claim her. Lucky to be privileged to call her his mate, his love.

"We're lucky," she tells him.

She tries to have her hips meet him every time in the way that makes him shudder, sends shockwaves radiating in his stomach. This much stimulation, here atop this treasure, in this space, is winding her pleasure tighter VERY quickly.

He just might manage to make her come AGAIN before he loses control. And with luck, well, maybe they won't land ON his wings when he achieves his own release.

"We're lucky," he echoes, correcting himself.

His own wingfeathers brush the silk beneath them, and even though he doesn't have true nerve endings in those places, he can still hear just how smooth of a surface it is beneath their bodies. And he knows what it feels like, because it is the same as the curves of her most protected and intimate areas of skin, the places where his hands are the only ones (besides her own) to touch.

Keeping his wings out of the way if he loses control is in the back of his mind, but the tighter the knot coils in the pit of his stomach, the less he even cares about falling. The cushions are soft! The furs are luxurious! They're not that high - and she's not that heavy, even if he cannot hold her 'lighter' when he comes.

He's not sure what slips first as he moves faster against her, harder, more erratic and slightly desperate with his touch and his kiss - his control or hers, but regardless, he comes hard with a shout, a gasp of her name that would have left no question to the activities taking place within these closed doors, should the servants (who might have been listening closely from the other side) still remained in this palace.

And he does lose control, dropping them both - avoiding landing on her body too firmly, or doing any real damage to his wings.

Edited 2024-04-14 21:33 (UTC)

She's not sure if she comes first or he does, but it hardly matters. They BOTH get their release, and it's so GOOD. Her shout of his name mingles with his cry of hers, the energy reverberating in the space, drowning out any echoes of emotions which might have remained from long ago.

She hardly notices the drop, body trembling, mind floating on a sea of afterglow and pleasure. She rolls them over, oh so careful, so he's on his back. Then she sprawls over his body as best she can while he's still inside of her.

"So good," she murmurs. "Going to just lay on you, right here. My mate, my treasures, right here under me." She's rambling a little.

Skellig mutters a sleepy reply that sounds something along the lines of perfect idea to me as he melts into a sprawled puddle beneath her, barely even noticing that she's rolled them over until he feels her sprawl over him.

After a brief moment of recovery, he finds coherent speech.

"Not goin' anywhere ever," he 'agrees', contentedly wrapping one arm around her - the armband on his bicep brushing over her back, where it comes to rest, metal warm against her skin. "My mate and my treasures, right here in our nest."

Which is so damn comfortable, and he is so very worn out (in a very, very good way) that he doesn't take long to drift off into sleep, relishing in the afterglow bliss.

Edited 2024-04-14 21:57 (UTC)

She's not sure how long she sleeps on top of him, it's impossible to tell the time this far underground. She awakes refreshed, but quite...sticky from their earlier activities. She slides off of him, careful not to wake him up.

She counts the armor pieces out as loot almost immediately. It's bulky, takes up far too much room, and it will likely be difficult to trade for anything else. The jewelry though, that holds promise!

Her breath catches as she finds a long string of carefully matched black pearls, long enough to reach the middle of her breasts even when wrapped twice around her neck. It's potent, very potent, as strong as the necklace she lost. She'd never be able to WEAR it in the village, but she only needs contact with it to draw karma from it. And if she puts it on to show Skellig what it looks like on her, that's her business.

The lapis scarab pin is weaker, will take longer to recharge, but will be easier to conceal on her person.

Three other items are weaker still, only capable of offering her energy once and then never again, but still valuable: An egg shaped piece of amber, a wicked looking obsidian blade, and a delicate looking golden bracelet. She packs the pin, the amber egg, and the obsidian blade away, slips the bracelet on for Skellig to see.

Karma clings to the rest of it, but not enough that it's too valuable to trade away, if necessary. An elaborate amphora that USED to contain precious wine proves to contain vinegar now when she opens it. The smell is quite strong.

Even with his heightened sense of hearing and sight, Skellig manages to sleep easily through her moving off of his body and stays asleep as she works her way through the piles of jewelry that are scattered about the treasure hoard. The lack of natural light in the space does throw off his internal body clock, but it is simply more the sheer exhaustion from the combination of fantastic sex and the use of his powers that keeps him from waking as she moves about the room.

The scent of the wine-turned-vinegar is what stirs him, and he is mildly disoriented (where did she go? why are there feathers stuck to his cheek?) at first when his eyes flutter open, his body shifting as he stretches out on the silks beneath him.

That is a good stretch.

Once he lays eyes on her, he flops back down in a contented pose, still hazy around the edges with afterglow and bliss.

"Should I be jealous you've gone shopping without me?" He drawls, teasing.

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