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

Oh, she LIKES this, more than she expected! She relaxes back into him, moans softly as he teases her nipple, encloses her with his wings, and kisses his way along her neck. "Might melt if you keep that up," she whispers, breathy, rough with want.

"I am almost glad you didn't know it was missing," she whispers. "I ached so, before I found you. Not just my body, but my heart. I NEEDED, and I didn't know what it was, WHO it was, that I needed."

While Skellig has never been one to very strongly believe in the Fates or divine intervention or anything of the sort - something pulled their souls together, intertwined his heart with hers, brought her breath to fill the void of air in his lungs, guided his footsteps to walk along her path. He suspects he will never know the full details of it, and he does not care.

"Even if you melt, won't let you fall," he mutters. Allowing his hand on her hip to stray lower, he slips it around the front of her thigh, walking them one step closer to the edge of the bed. (This way, she can draw a knee up, rest it against the mattress, balance her weight...and also give him better access.) She wants him to touch her; he can sense it in her voice and in the way she presses her body against his, and it is intoxicating and arousing all at once.

His fingers find her clit again, stroking softly, his motions in sync with the rhythm set by his other hand teasing her nipple, his lips against her jawline.

"Never in my wildest dreams, could I have pictured you, my beautiful dragon," he adds. "And yet the moment I laid my eyes upon you in the desert, somehow my soul just...knew you were the one I sought." To be fair, his mind briefly panicked. But his soul...his soul knew.

She does draw a knee up to rest against the mattress, balance her weight. She whimpers in pleasure as he adds stroking her clit to what he is doing with her.

"Wanted you, from the moment I saw you," she gasps. "Didn't want to take advantage..." She moans in pleasure, long and low.

Exhaling a laugh, he keeps up his touches, adding in his feathers from his wing against her leg wherever he can manage to reach her - without contorting himself into a jumbled mess, as well as a finger to coax inside of her arousal to add more pleasure for her.

"I must have looked like a street rat," he mutters playfully, picturing in his mind briefly the moment he looked up and saw her walking towards him on the road - his skin reddened with sunburn, soaked with sweat, dirty hair and missing his boots and coat (and most of everything else) with his feathers askew, wings full of sand. "I am glad to know I am good looking even at my worst."

She laughs. "Going to make me fall apart for you before you even get me on the bed?" she teases. It does feel good though, the coaxing, the feathers. She buries her hands in what feathers she can reach, the urge to TOUCH him overwhelming.

"Not a rat," she tells him, between gasps. "Just, lost, uncertain, in need of a friend." Something CLICKS now that didn't occur to her, consciously, at the time. "Like me."

She moans as his fingers tease her arousal, inside and out. "You feel so good when you stroke me."

"Was careful to just look at your face, when you took your pants off that first time. If you hadn't been so nervous, so uncertain, don't know that I would have been able to resist looking."

"Considering it," he says honestly, stretching his wing around further to give her something more 'substantial' to bury her hands into, allowing her a much larger portion of his wing to touch - which in turn, causes him to moan happily as she finds spots that drive him wild.

lost, uncertain, in need of a friend.
like me.

Skellig nuzzles at her neck as she says those words, and a small part of his heart aches because he knows that loneliness, that longing that comes with the lack of companionship. And to think that she had been feeling the same way that he had been hurts.

"I was very nervous," he admits. "Had no idea what was going on, I still...still felt like I might need to run," he admits. "But my soul told me that I was safe, and I am so very glad I listened."

He hugs her a little closer to his body, which in turn presses his cock against her ass, sending a shudder down his spine. He knows from his touches that she is more than close enough to take him, if he wanted to lay claim to her just like this. It is a consideration...he adds another finger to his stroking.

"Would not have minded if you looked," he adds. "Could rewrite the scroll," he mutters against her neck. "Come up with a better name for this." Nothing about mounting livestock or the breeding of farm animals. "Dragon worshipped by rod of the sun..."

"So am I, so very glad. So very glad you overcame your fear, so glad you stayed." Her fingers find the 'best' spots on his wings that she can reach.

The feeling of his cock pressed against her ass only spurs her hunger for him higher, especially when he adds another finger to his stroking! "That, that sounds like an excellent idea," she gasps when he mentions rewriting the scroll. "Worship me like this, then lay me down on that lovely silk to admire your work."

Edited 2024-05-31 01:54 (UTC)

"Now you will not be able to get rid of me," he quips, in reference to so glad you stayed, allowing his feathers to rustle and 'puff' under her touch as she hits the sensitive places.

And, he will do just that which she suggests - because it is a most excellent idea!

With his one hand still working over her clit, he briefly removes his other from her breast and uses it to shift his cock, angling himself to be able to enter her; it takes some brief 'readjusting' of their bodies to find the position that is comfortable for both of them, but with this different alignment comes an entirely new set of sensations. Ones that he is finding quite pleasurable, and he suspects she is also enjoying.

Before he begins to move, he laughs a little against her neck, somewhat breathless. (How is he so lucky?) "You good, my love?"

"That's the plan," she purrs when he says she won't be able to get rid of him.

She moans in pleasure as he slides inside of her. The sensations with this position are new, but she finds she's enjoying them.

"Very good," she tells him. She presses her body back against his, feels him shift just a little deeper inside of her. "You are my very own sun, make me feel so warm, so bright."

She rocks her hips just a little, an encouragement for him to move.

Edited 2024-05-31 02:37 (UTC)

Taking note of her encouragement, he settles his arm back around her body, his free hand skating over her stomach and ribs as he starts to move; his motions are slow and calculated at first, still 'testing' the waters of this new position.

"I would fight leaving, even if you asked," he admits. "Because never..."

His sentence is cut off by a groan that overtakes his voice as she shifts her hips just a certain way, which combined with his movement causes a great deal of heat to coil in his belly.

"...never...never would I want to leave you, my dragon. This is where I belong. By your side. So that you can lounge...bask in the glow of your very own sun."

Kreyu is careful to shift her hips THAT way again. She wants his pleasure as much as her own.

"We belong together, my mate, my husband," she pants. "Want to spoil you, give you everything, the world."

He is slightly more prepared for the reaction that she elicits from him when she shifts her hips, but that does not change at all the way he responds to it. If anything, it spurs him to find more places to kiss at her exposed skin, letting his lips pepper anywhere he can reach like this - her neck, the tops of her shoulders, even her cheek and the delicate skin under her ear.

"No doubt you will do that," he promises. "Look forward to it. Want it, you, so much."

Whatever she would spoil him with, whatever she would give him, wherever she would take him in this world (or any other) he wants to be with her, his mate, his wife.

She gasps as he hits a particularly 'good' spot inside her. "Then have me, all of me."

Everything feels so good, the pleasure winding tighter and tighter, heading for a release.

It is not only her own pleasure winding tighter and tighter towards a release; his own pleasure is coiling within his body, sparks dancing across his nerve endings with each time she gasps and rocks her hips back against his. Her words have me, all of me give him motivation to grip her body tighter, hold her closer to him, a hint more possessive with his grasp and his kisses against her skin.

"My dragon," he growls playfully, nipping softly at the back of her neck - never hard enough to mark her skin, he would never dare. "My wife."

There is pride in those words; he is proud not only of her, but also to be linked to her, in body and spirit and soul.

She growls back, playful, when he nips her neck. "My husband. My mate." His pride echoed in her voice.

She's so very close, her body quivering around him. She tilts her head just enough that he can see her eyes, glowing violet. "Come for me." she gasps.

Skellig was trying to hold out - making an effort to adhere to the adage of 'ladies first' - but when she looks at him with her eyes aglow in the brilliant shade of violet that she knows drives him wild, his self-control goes right to the wind and is lost.

"For, for you, all for you always--" he groans softly under his breath, the words merely utterances against her skin before a louder, deeper sound overtakes his lungs and throat as his climax hits.

(It is very good that the House has no questions about what goes on within its walls, because he does not hold back - not when she feels this good, her body quivering around his cock and their souls and heartbeats as one.)

That louder, deeper, sound pushes her over, makes her cry out as she comes.

Her legs are incredibly wobbly, so it's good that he's holding her so close. She laughs, soft. "Think my legs have forgotten how to work."

"Mine are working on instinct alone, I think," he teases with a hint of a shrug before he presses a soft kiss to the back of her shoulder.

Reluctantly (but knowing they both need to recover) after their bodies separate, he turns her around and eases her and guides her to 'sit' on the edge of the bed - but not yet lay back upon the silks.

(No sense in getting them covered in sweat, damp feathers, or any other bodily fluids.)

He settles next to her, letting her lean against him with his arm around her shoulders as they lay back and sprawl a bit on the bed. He will gaze upon her in a few moments - for now he just wants to enjoy a bit of post-coital bliss, her body against his.

"We will be able to come up with a much better name for that," he adds after a moment of silence, snickering a little.

"Much better," she agrees, snuggling close. "The eclipse, perhaps, for the moon being in front of the sun."

"Mysterious," he muses, drawing his fingertips along her forearm - tracing again those lines of henna. "I like that. Fitting...mysterious, like you and I both are."

His fingers trail higher, to the henna designs on her breasts - but his touch is mostly innocent, as much as it can be at least.

She enjoys his tracing the lines, touch innocent or not, as it feels good.

"I suppose we are," she muses. "To humans, certainly."

"I know enough to give you some henna art on your skin, although nothing as elaborate as I have," she tells him. Her drawing symbols on him like in that dream he had, in Heka's lair.

"That might be a fun activity to get up to," he says. "Perhaps one day while we are in your Lair, if we need some time to recuperate from our adventures."

(Whether they are truly recovering from time spent fighting pirates, or resting after other activities they get up to once they arrive - he does not know what to expect, nor does he truly care. If it is with her, he will be happy...)

He shifts his body to turn a bit onto his side, give himself better ability to see her body - and trace the patterns on her skin.

"We should have time," Kreyu replies. If only because getting Revenin to 'cool off' is likely to take a WHILE.

She watches him, smiling softly. "You've found most of the henna, but not all of it."

He arches an eyebrow, curiously, and leans back slightly to better view her body. There are only a few places he has not yet looked over fully...

"Clever...you have sought to have me truly explore every inch of your skin," he muses. "Perhaps now that our bodies have cooled slightly...I would have you laid upon your silks, like the artwork that you are, and I can finish my search?"

"Have to keep you entertained," she teases.

The idea of him laying her upon the silks, then searching her slowly is a very pleasant one.

"I would like that." She plucks a few errant feathers off of her skin. The small, downy ones DO tend to stick.
"It appears no part of you is keen to let go of me," she quips.

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