brave_kreyu (
brave_kreyu) wrote2024-05-24 07:48 pm
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OOM All Skate Skellig Dream Magic Weirdness -Part Five
In the morning, after they've both bathed, eaten, and they are finally dressed, she's explaining her plans for the morning to Skellig.
"I'm going to be doing two things at once," she explains. "A very overbooked artist has graciously squeezed me in for some henna work, so I'll be gone for a few hours. I'd bring you along, but she's not comfortable around men." Kreyu has her SUSPICIONS as to why, but she doesn't know.
"And since chatting is very much a part of the process, I'll be seeing what I can find out about any recent pirate attacks."
"I'm going to be doing two things at once," she explains. "A very overbooked artist has graciously squeezed me in for some henna work, so I'll be gone for a few hours. I'd bring you along, but she's not comfortable around men." Kreyu has her SUSPICIONS as to why, but she doesn't know.
"And since chatting is very much a part of the process, I'll be seeing what I can find out about any recent pirate attacks."
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"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."
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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..."
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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."
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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?"
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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.
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"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."
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"We belong together, my mate, my husband," she pants. "Want to spoil you, give you everything, the world."
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"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.
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Everything feels so good, the pleasure winding tighter and tighter, heading for a release.
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"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.
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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.
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"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.)
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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."
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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.
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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.
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"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.
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(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.
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She watches him, smiling softly. "You've found most of the henna, but not all of it."
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"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?"
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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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"Perhaps they have interpreted our bond a bit more...vigorously...than other parts of my being," he suggests.
(If this had even happened a few weeks ago, he would be apologizing here before her for making a 'mess'. But now...he does not even really consider it, and can even laugh as he 'cleans'.)
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Eventually, she's de-feathered and clean enough to sprawl upon those silks. "Mhm, they feel amazing." She wriggles on them a little, just because she can.
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Sitting at her feet also gives him the opportunity to take them into his hands, and work on rubbing them again as he starts his search for that bit of henna he has not yet found.
"You deserve nothing but the finest," he continues. "I know that there will not always been the opportunity for silks and such finery on our travels...I do not mind that. I would sleep with you upon stones and sticks with no complaint, so long as I was with you."
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"Should find a way for you to sleep safely on my dragon shape, just in case of something like that," she muses aloud. "Don't really feel sticks and stones through my scales. Tie you to my head, maybe..."
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