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

She looks, feels, concerned for a moment at his hesitation. "Are you alright, love?"

"It is a pleasant image for me too," she agrees. "Nothing to do in a storm like that except rest and keep each other entertained."

As his hands work over the tops of her thighs, her legs part a little. He might notice the henna on the inside of her thighs. So carefully hidden where no hands have touched except theirs.

That is one of the locations that he suspected that this secret design may have been hidden - and now that he knows where to look, it gives him a direction in which to continue his efforts for his 'hunt'.

If she had not noticed or mentioned his brief moment of hesitation, he likely would not have brought it up himself - but she clearly has done both, it would not be fair to keep quiet on the subject.

"I am alright," he says quietly, smoothing his hands across her skin, slow and rhythmic strokes from her knees to points higher, rubbing softly. "It is just...occasionally there is still part of my mind which when I touch you with my hands...it will criticize my own body, as if I am not worthy to do so."

He glances up at her.

"I know that to be untrue," he adds quickly, firmly. "You have said it countless times, and my heart trusts your words. But perhaps it is...a holdover, from a time Before. I don't know. I wish I knew some way to send it on elsewhere, for good."

Her thighs part further at his rubbing, her muscles relaxing.

"So do I, love."

She smiles softly. "Perhaps it will fade with time, with you seeing, hearing, and feeling just how much I enjoy your touch."

"Perhaps," he agrees. "At the very least, it will give me reason to find excuses to touch you."

He smirks up at her - because they BOTH know that there does not need to be any sort of reason for touching to occur - and then slides his hands closer to tease the edges of the knotwork with the tips of his fingers.

Her breath catches with pleasure when he teases the edges of the knotwork. "Thought you might like those," she says, voice a little rough with want, with arousal.

Is it 'normal' to want again this soon? Kreyu has no idea.

Skellig's frame of reference as far as 'normal' want and desire is likely nowhere near what most would consider 'accurate' - before wandering upon Kreyu in the desert, he is unsure of when he may have last bedded anyone, let alone even wanted to.

"You thought correctly," he muses.

Kreyu clearly wants him, he knows that much. And even if he is still 'recovering', there are things he can do to oblige that want. Such as shift his body so he is better settled between her legs, and work on kissing his way up her thighs.

"I would love whatever you choose to adorn yourself with," he adds. "Or nothing at all, if you'd prefer it that way."

She makes little noises of pleasure as he kisses his way up her thighs.

"Likewise, love," she tells him.

"Hm. Have a gown at the Lair, it's just beads, like the ones on my girdle that you liked, but more closely spaced."

Kreyu literally covered in shiny beads.....

Picturing that, he laughs - and it is a low, husky, somewhat devious sound. Clearly, that idea interests him, greatly!

"Careful," he 'warns' her as he shakes his head. "Tempt me with that image, I may insist we skip dealing with pirates and instead go straight to the Lair, and I would have you dance for me in that gown..."

Having reached his goal with his lips, he draws one of her legs up to settle draped over his shoulder, better able to kiss at the henna and trace the lines with his tongue.

"Will gladly dance for you," she purrs. "Could be a reward for our pirate fighting efforts," she teases.

She moans in pleasure as he traces the lines with his tongue. "Bet, bet you pounce me again."

"Beads. Everywhere."

"I would take care to not harm the gown," he 'protests' playfully, as he finishes tracing the lines of one henna design and shifts to her other thigh, to pay equal attention to the other.

(He knows it is driving her mildly crazy to have his mouth right there and yet so very far away from what she wants from him.)

He drops his voice to a whisper.

"But I would most certainly pounce you again, of that I have no doubt."

She does want his mouth on her arousal, but tracing the lines of her henna with his mouth is ALSO quite pleasurable!

"Liked it when you pounced me, last time." She gasps, moans. "My mate wild and ravenous for me."

"I will remember that," Skellig promises. "Some times I can manage to control my desires, but others...I simply cannot, and I grow a bit...excited."

Wild. Not quite considered 'feral', but close. He works his lips and tongue over the skin of her thigh, finishes tracing that tattoo, before shifting his attention to her arousal with no further 'detours'.

She was about to comment on his saying he can grow a bit excited, but then he puts his mouth THERE and any coherent thought goes right out the window.

It always reminds her of the first time he put his mouth on her, how a whole realm of pleasant sensations was opened up to her as he licked and kissed. Teasing her clit with his lips, his tongue, rubbing in just the right way to drive her wild, make her writhe with pleasure under him.

She tangles her fingers in his hair, wants to pull him just that little bit closer. His wife, his dragon, so warm, wet, the scent of her arousal, the taste of her on his tongue...

Not-so-secretly, he enjoys the moments when he can cause her to lose her ability to form coherent thought - because he knows that her mind is overtaken by pleasure and delight, and those are things that he wants for her. And knowing that he can give them to her is a bonus, one that excites him!

With her fingers in his hair, she has 'control' of what he does to her - except the groan of pleasure she coaxes from him involuntarily, as she tugs lightly at his scalp, pulling him closer.

(She is intoxicating in all the best ways, and he will gladly pleasure her; work to refresh her memories of that first time they were together, and also build more new memories, learning each time what she wants him to do to her with his lips and tongue, with his fingers.)

But as much as he would seek to give her nonstop pleasure, push her closer and closer to her release as quickly as possible...he does have to break for oxygen, and when he does he will turn his attentions to that henna on the inside of her thigh as he pants against her skin.

Edited 2024-06-01 23:41 (UTC)

Her mind is fuzzy with pleasure and delight, her body wound tight with want, throbbing with arousal.

Little noises of pleasure reach his ears as he pants against her skin. She's panting hard too, trembling a little.

Gently he strokes the outside of her thigh that is draped over his shoulder, bringing his wing to cover her lower leg and foot, give her toes something to touch (his feathers) to ground her - he knows the tremble in her body is not a bad thing, just energy coursing through her veins. But part of him still seeks to soothe her, give her more contact, let her catch her thoughts a bit amid the chaos of her arousal.

Once he has caught his breath (and it is only a brief pause) he resumes his efforts, slowly building up the intensity of his strokes with his tongue, moving his hand to allow his fingers to tease her clit while he works her over.

(Part of his mind tells himself that even if he cannot physically give her his cock at this very moment, he's going to do his finest to give her what he can with his mouth and hands instead.)

One hand keeps stroking the outside of her leg, encouraging her as she moves her body beneath his attention, and he groans again as she tightens her fingers in his hair when he hits a particular spot with his tongue. He can sense she is close, and he will work to get her there, give her what she wants and needs.

She would never find him lacking, even if all he could give her in the moment was nothing at all!

But this, this is very good. Moans, whimpers, groans, gasps, whines of want, he coaxes so many different sounds out of her with his mouth and his hands. By accident or design, his tongue is hitting THAT spot again when she comes, tightens around him, hips bucking against his mouth, his name on her lips.

Skellig works his mouth against her as she comes, coaxing as much pleasure as he can from her release until she eventually stills beneath his body - and it is then that he carefully untangles his body from beneath her legs and crawls back up to sit beside her.

In a moment, he will lay down, wrap an arm around her body and cover them with one of his wings to keep them warm (not like that is truly a concern, even within the walls of this room, the radiant desert heat is comfortable) and hold her close.

But first, he wants to look at the vision of her - her eyes glowing violet, skin flushed with afterglow, her hair a wild mane splayed around her with the silks accentuating her skin, that henna drawn across her body. This is his dragon, his mate, his wife. And he grins at her.

"I am the luckiest creature in the world, to call you my own," he says smugly, taking in the image for another brief moment before he moves to curl up beside her.

She snuggles up against him. "Then I am the second luckiest, to call you mine," she tells him.

She's not sleepy, but she's very mellow from afterglow. "Should we take another look at those scrolls in a bit?"

"It would likely be beneficial, yes."

Skellig is also not all that sleepy, simply comfortable and relaxed.

"That way if there is anything else that we may need to get here in Amikaya before we leave, we could do so, if this place would not be along our eventual route home towards our village in time." His sense of direction is still quite limited, and he knows not only is their a great amount of travel they must do, but also they will be spending time at the Lair, and then perhaps other adventures will call to them. A teasing smirk crosses his mouth.

"Though if we do much more in the form of shopping, I am afraid we will have to come up with some sort of system to rig bags upon your dragon form."

There already is quite a bit they will need to move - but surely she has a way to do this. Skellig has heard about the statue.

"We should be able to pass through here on our way back," she says after a moment of thought. "Though if there is anything else in the scrolls I will need to....practice with, we'd best get it now."

She blushes.

"I have rigged bags to hang on my dragon shape before," she tells him. "It took a lot of rope, but I managed it well enough."

His mind wanders to just what she might be thinking about that is causing her to blush - and a hint of heat rises to his own cheeks, as he wonders what else might be within those scrolls.

They will definitely have to read them, in a few moment's time.

"I only bring it up because if the pirates are defeated, and if they have been any good at pirating...there may be more things we would wish to take from them, carry onwards to the Lair."

Plundering!

"And I would help, with the ropes."

At the moment? Practicing with the 'Rod of the Sun'. There will surely be more within the scrolls to make her blush.

"That is a good point." Treasure, dragons like treasure.

She beams when he says he would help with the ropes. "That would be lovely. I'm sure you'd be so good at tying me up with ropes, especially since you can fly. And you are gentle too, would make sure they didn't catch anywhere sensitive."

Ever since arriving in the desert, Skellig's memories have been hit or miss when it comes to Before. There is no true rhyme or reason to dictate what it is that he can remember or what he cannot - and most of it truly has been blacked out or overridden by haze and static, and when he tries to push himself to think of Before, he is met with firm resistance.

(He has been trying less and less, the longer he has been here with her. Because truly now, he feels as if he has no need to remember, no desire to know where he came from Before, because all that matters is here now with her.)

But there is something in her words you'd be so good at tying me up with ropes that causes him to blush a bit. Perhaps his knowledge comes from overheard whispers within these walls at the House of Blue Lotuses, discussion down at the docks as sailors unloaded their ships? Where his knowledge comes from, he will not know. But his mind contemplates her words, and the image of her (not her dragon form, but of her here on this bed, bound before him) briefly flickers through his mind.

Even if the image of her is not one of her in any sort of distress, it is one that unsettles him slightly, causing him to stutter and pause before he speaks.

"I...I would be careful to ensure they did not catch anywhere sensitive," he manages. "Gentle. I would be gentle."

Kreyu has no idea what she said that is making him blush, making him a little unsettled.

"I know you wouldn't hurt me, Skellig." She pats him on the arm, careful. "And my scales are quite tough, so we should be fine."

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