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

"We'll have the opportunity to travel quite a bit while I'm 'healing' and shouldn't be seen in the village. I'd like to show you a bit of my world, OUR world."

She keeps up her touch of his face, his hair, since he's tipping his head into it.

"Would some of those pleasures involve me, perhaps?" she asks. A smirk tugs at one corner of her lips.

"Our world," he echoes. "I would like that, very much so."

He nuzzles his face into her touch, pressing his lips against her palm.

"Most all of them." He 'admits', freely. "Though honey is another."

Her heart speeds up with joy when he says he would like that very much.

She sighs in pleasure as he nuzzles her, presses his lips against her palm. "Honey should be readily available here," she muses aloud. "If you wanted to help me get it off my fingers some time." She's not thinking about OTHER places honey could wind up.

She might not be thinking of those other places, but he is - though he keeps the thoughts to himself, holding them in reserve for later use.

"I would assume from the sheer size of this city compared to our village, that there are many markets and sellers who would be able to procure whatever we would desire."

He slowly allows his lips to trail from her palm to her wrist, along her inner forearm.

"Though it is you that I desire most."

She nods, confirming his assumption.

She makes a small, pleased, sound as his lips trail from her palm to her wrist, teasing the sensitive skin there. The embers of her desire, her want, are stirring to life again. "And how do you desire me?" she asks, voice low, husky.

He likes it when her voice drops low like that - sending a shiver trickling down his spine.

"Any way you would let me take you," he muses. "Though I do seem to remember earlier we discussed a feast, with my mouth and tongue...and your hands in my hair, if I am not mistaken?"

Edited 2024-05-04 03:51 (UTC)

She likes that she can send that shiver down his spine with nothing but her voice.

"We did," she replies. "The thought of such a feast stirs my appetites, if you would care to indulge me." Although since he enjoys it too, it might be as much indulging himself as her?

"Shall we whet our appetites with kissing, or would you prefer to begin the feast with other fare?"

"I would think at least starting with a kiss or two would seem most proper..."

Though his opinions on the ideas of 'propriety' are likely highly skewed, when compared to those of others. He shifts his body slightly to stretch out against her, pressing his lips to the curve of her neck where it meets her shoulder.

"Though I may wander a bit."

She laughs, low. "I don't mind your kisses wandering, so long as your self stays with me." She knows Skellig isn't afraid to lose himself in too much Light, but it worried her!

She shifts to better meet his body, runs her lips over whatever bits of him she can reach. And she runs her fingers through his hair because they both enjoy that.

Another shiver ripples down his spine as she grazes his scalp with her fingernails, a pleasured sigh escaping his throat as she runs her fingers through his hair.

"I am much more aligned with you than I was before," he says, voice low. "Your Karma is brighter...a beacon in the dark. I would not lose myself again, no matter the depth of my wanderings..."

He brings his mouth up to meet hers, looking into her eyes.

"It is with you that I belong and with you that I intend to stay."

He can feel her relief, SEE it, when he says that he would not lose himself again. "I'm so glad," she tells him.

She meets his kiss, warm, sweet, gentle. But there's a touch of hunger in it, want, NEED, that grows as they kiss. One hand stays in his hair, but the other wanders his body, caressing whatever she can reach. Wings, chest, arms, neck, back, all are fair game as they kiss.

"Want you to stay, so much," she says, between kisses. "Want you to be mine, want to be yours."

Skellig nearly says there is no need for want, when it is what you already have but part of him does truly appreciate feeling wanted and desired, as it is a feeling that he is unaccustomed to and one that he finds he enjoys. Especially from Kreyu.

"I am yours," he says firmly, voice reassuring. "And you are mine. And it is with my mate that I will stay. I will not stray from you, no matter the temptation..."

(Nevermind that Kreyu would likely swiftly put an end anyone who tried to steal him from her.)

"...you are all that my soul desires."

Kreyu has picked up on him enjoying being wanted and desired by her, so she tries to give him that feeling often!

"My mate," she kisses him deeply. "I am yours, so long as you wish to be mine. Don't want anyone else to kiss me, caress me, have me, but you."

(She would definitely scare them off, if he wasn't interested in them. Actual murder might be reserved for those who couldn't take the hint to buzz off. If Skellig WANTED them she'd be busy sobbing her eyes out instead.)

"My soul desires all of you, every facet," she tells him. Her kisses, her touches, are getting more lingering, teasing, meant to help fan his desire for her to a roaring blaze. "Make me feel so GOOD, my heart, my mind. And you give my body such pleasure on top of all of that."

What she is doing to him with her touch and her kisses is definitely working - even if he is somewhat unaware of her underlying intentions, his attentions focused on tracing patterns across her skin (drawing lines that mirror her scales, in smaller form) wherever he can reach with his fingertips.

"I still do not know what fates brought me to this desert," he admits, as he shifts his body over hers to settle on his knees and elbows above her, allowing his mouth better access to her neck and throat, his lips brushing those before he moves lower to her collarbones. "But I am grateful it was you who found me wandering. No other would compare."

Using a wing for balance (and to mantle slightly over her), he trails his kisses lower, to the swell of her breasts, one hand settling against her ribs.

Kreyu hasn't realized that the patterns mirror her scales, but it feels good, his fingers tracing patterns. That he would be so comfortable with ALL of her, is not something she would ever have dared expect of ANYONE!

"So grateful I found you too," she echoes. Her body arches toward his lips, pressing into his mouth a little. "No one else could compare to you either, love." There is a certain thrill to his wings mantling over her, it sends a tingle down her spine. She doesn't understand why. Maybe it's the fact that she knows he COULD hurt her combined with the CERTAINTY that he won't? (A predator over her, but one she need not fear for she is his mate.)

He might feel her heartbeat under her ribs, speeding up in pleasure, arousal. Or feel her shiver in anticipation when his mouth nears the swell of her breasts.

He can see far more clearly in this dim light than she can, but she can FEEL his efforts just fine!

Not only can he feel her heartbeat with his hands, but he can also hear it easily (his ears are 'tuned' to only this room and their bodies, blocking out the rest of the building) without taking any extra effort to listen. And the way it speeds up when he touches and kisses her makes him grin, knowing that it is him that is making her feel this way.

(And she is right, in that he would most definitely NEVER hurt her.)

With his mouth on her skin, he kisses over the swell of her breasts - paying equal time and attention to both - before he settles his lips and tongue on one of her nipples, teasing gently in the way he has learned she enjoys most.

She moans, low, as he teases her nipple. She gently digs her fingers into his hair, rubs his scalp. Mute encouragement to stay right where he is AND something to give him pleasure at the same time.

"Such a lovely, clever, mouth you have," she praises him, voice low and rough with want. "Gentle, but feels so GOOD," she adds, the last word shifting into another low moan.

"Would let you feast on me all night."

He is more than willing to let her 'guide' him with her hands in his hair, giving her the ability to control where he pays the most detailed attention to her body. (Plus, the encouragement and the praise she gives him is a turn-on, giving him a slow surge of arousal.)

"Clever...I like that," he whispers, catching his breath briefly. "Also like the idea of feasting upon your body...tasting every inch of you..." His hand at her ribs slides lower to her hip, fingers curling gently against her skin. "Watching you writhe beneath me with pleasure as the sun rises, warm glow lighting your skin...my beautiful dragon."

It is quite a lovely image, painted in his mind.

She gently guides him toward her other nipple once the first has reached the point of it almost being too much. His words give her a slow surge of arousal too, making her flush.

"Clever, wicked, images you're putting in my head," she gasps. She presses into his fingers at her hip, body arching a little. "Lovely way to greet the coming sun."

"You'd look so beautiful too, watching the sun caress you as it rises, my beautiful owl." She moans. "Devouring me, or being devoured BY me." Kreyu finds BOTH of those images lovely and compelling. "Writhing under me in pleasure as I tease you with my hands, my mouth, my wings. Let the growing light show me all the details of you in ecstasy."

Skellig contemplates for a moment the images that she is putting into his mind; the picture of his own body splayed out beneath hers in this bed, basking in the glow of the morning dawn as she works him with her hands and mouth, her feathers grazing his bare skin.

A shudder runs down his spine and he laughs - the sound low and husky, clearly pleasured by the thought.

"You are the most talented partner I have ever laid with," he says, voice honest and full of praise. "Nobody else has ever made me feel the levels of ecstasy that you have brought to the surface with your touch and kiss. Your feathers on my skin..."

Another shudder ripples down his spine, and he kisses the center of her chest, lips over her heart.

"Absolute divinity."

His low and husky laugh makes the fire of want in her belly surge, makes a bit of violet seep into the color of her eyes.

Her heart skips in surprise at his words, and she flushes at his praise. She is more than a LITTLE smug to find out she's most talented partner he has ever laid with. "I knew they weren't worthy of you, that's only another piece of evidence on the pile."

His kiss over her heart makes her shut her eyes for a moment, and his comment about divinity makes her laugh, low. "THAT kind of divinity I might be wise and skilled enough to claim honestly," she tells him, opening her eyes again. "The winged goddess of your heart, your pleasure." It's said mostly in jest. She has no desire for him to think of himself as LESS than her, to think that she must be appeased or her affections bought with worship and offerings. But on the other hand, she quite enjoys his love, his devotion, his attention, his thoughtfulness, his gifts. There might be reasons dragons often end up worshiped as gods...

The splash of violet that creeps into her eyes makes him smile, not only out of arousal but out of a heartfelt joy that she is able to share that part of her soul with him, just as he is able to share his full self with her - he does not need to hide who he is, what he is.

"You would not be wrong to claim it," he murmurs quietly, trailing his lips lower on her body, working his way over her skin with soft kisses. "Your heart is humble, my love. It is one of the things that I find most attractive of your soul."

He exhales, pressing his forehead lightly to her ribcage, allowing himself a moment to collect his thoughts and straighten his words.

"You have such great powers that you could use in so many ways...and you choose kindness, and caring. You are unafraid to walk alongside those who need the most help, to dirty your hands to lift others. So many others with even lesser gifts than yours would simply turn their heads and look elsewhere...and you do not."

(And he has been the street rat lying in the gutter, the beggar in the alleyway shadows, spat upon and kicked. She could easily have done the same to him as he wandered in the desert, and yet, she did not.)

She sighs in pleasure as he works his way down her body, luxuriating in his soft kisses.

"How could I not? I am not lessened by giving such help, and the world in which I live becomes greater." Her older self would weep and laugh at her naivete, at her innocence. "And it feels good, helping." She flushes, runs her hands through his hair.

Even her older self would be surprised at how Skellig was treated, THIS version of her would be HORRIFIED.

Horrified is not the mood that Skellig is wishing to set, which is why he shifts his attentions (and the subject) to resume his explorations of her abdomen, the muscles of her stomach and the curves of her hips all receiving equal attention from his lips and tongue.

"It is why we are alike," he says. "Helping brings Light into my soul, similar to the way that I feel when I can draw from your Karma. A fire, a surge..."

Her hipbones receive a few moments of 'worship', before he settles lower on the bed, running his palms across the tops of her thighs, fingers mapping out the muscles beneath her skin. Glancing up at her, he smirks wickedly.

"Regarding this 'feast'...would you rather have me kneel at the foot of the bed as you did earlier, your legs over my shoulders? Or would you rather simply lie here and have me ravish you as you are now?"

He would be fine with either option, though his hair would be easier for her to reach with the first versus the second.

She responds to his efforts, pleased gasps, moans, breaths catching in her throat. Her heart is speeding up, her body flushing with arousal.

"The first," she says after a moment of thought. "Would make it easier for me to reach your hair that way, tug on it as you pleasure me."

Edited 2024-05-05 01:02 (UTC)

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