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

"That does sound pleasant," she replies. "Though I had thought of dancing for you." She pauses. "Not in THAT dress, would be a bit cruel to train you to get hard when you're going to be seeing me in it at formal events."

Her eyes are innocent and her smirk devious. "I do have something a bit less sparkly and easier to clean. I'd forgotten I had it until I found it when we were packing."

"You wish to spoil your owl with another surprise," he teases. "Whatever has he done to earn such a pleasure from his dragon?"

His smirk shifts to a grin as he shrugs slightly.

"I would enjoy you dancing for me just as much. Perhaps even greater."

"I need no excuse to spoil my beloved husband," she teases back.

"Or we could combine the two, perhaps?" She's almost finished with her dinner. "Just see where the evening takes us."

"I sure inspiration will strike and lead us in a good direction," he agrees.

Skellig is also nearly finished with his dinner, gathering up the last few pieces of meat and vegetable and folding them into a piece of bread to eat.

"Your beloved husband does enjoy the spoiling, he admits," he says after finishing chewing. "He might deny it sometimes, but it is pleasant."

"I am glad you enjoy it," she says, smiling softly. "I want to give you everything good, everything you've been denied."

Reaching one hand over in her direction, he rests it on the table, palm facing upwards. Once she takes hold of it, he squeezes gently.

"I know I do not remember much of Before I came to be in the desert," he says quietly. "But you have done so much good for my soul, for my heart, and erased many echoes of sadness and pain, fulfilled much that I had been lacking in my spirit. I am grateful for that, Kreyu. Grateful for you."

She gently squeezes back. "And I am so grateful for you, my love. You have done my heart, my spirit so much good. No one could be more fortunate in their partner than I have been."

Her grin turns slightly impish. "Would like to show you what the dress I rediscovered looks like on me, even if you decide it needs to come off immediately for some reason," her tone at the end is slightly teasing.

"I can't imagine any reason that might spur me to decide I need to have you disrobe immediately," he drawls playfully, allowing his thumb to trace circles against her hand. "So we'll see just how convincing you may be."

Getting their plates cleaned up is simple enough, and once things are cleared away after dinner, Skellig wanders over and settles himself close to her, standing face to face with one of his hands at her waist.

"How do you want me while you dance for me?" He leans in and kisses her softly on the mouth, lingering. "If you are not going to be in The Dress, I may manage to contain my desires to touch you until I am allowed."

She puts one of her hands at his waist and returns his soft and lingering kiss.

She chuckles, low. "In that case, you can take whatever position you like on the bed."

She won't REALLY mind if he decides to POUNCE, after all!

She walks over to the chest, pulls out a silk that shimmers, pinprick sized pieces of something reflective all across the weave like stardust. "Made from the silk of a particular giant spider only found in Arcadia, or so I was told."

The silk is so sheer it is translucent, almost see through but not quite, a tease. In some places it hugs her curves, but in others it is long, flowing, almost seems to float on the air. She twirls in place and the sleeves and the skirt of the dress swirl and float slowly back down. In the firelight, the dress shimmers, but far more subtly than THAT dress.

It might be far more subtle than THAT dress, but in his mind, it is in a different classification altogether. From where he is settled on the end of the bed, he watches her as she twirls, studies the way the silk reacts with the air, billowing and flowing with her movements. It is so much lighter than the other dress, and while she is able to move freely in that one, this dress is completely different.

His heartrate kicks up a notch or two as he watches her move.

It takes a moment or two before he can find words to string together that make sense.

"It is as if you are coated in stardust," he says. "Descended straight from the night sky."

She twirls again, looks down at herself. "That's what I thought of when I saw it again, stardust."

She moves slightly toward him, barefoot and light on her feet. "What better thing to wear than stardust for my husband who enjoys the stars so."

She dances in such a way as to take advantage of the flowing nature of the garment. It's sleeves and skirt 'chase' her movement as she twirls, leaps, sways, moves her arms. The sensuality of this dance is a more subtle, teasing, thing than when she has danced for him before.

"I enjoy the stars so very much because I was looking at them the moment that everything...the moment that everything just suddenly made sense," he says earnestly, softly. "It was as if every infinite possibility came rushing into my senses at once, and yet my mind was not overwhelmed, because I knew with my whole being that I was exactly where I belonged. With you."

His words are quiet as he continues to watch her dance, and it is obvious from his glances that he is studying the way that the fabric interacts with each movement, each leap and sway. And he is fascinated...he has never seen anything like this.

(The distraction is what is keeping him seated patiently on the end of the bed, though his attentions will shift eventually.)

"You look very mysterious, with the way it moves with you," he adds. "It is hard to predict, anticipate. Sometimes it goes this way..." he motions with his hand in one direction. "And then sometimes it switches."

"You have a poet's gift for words, my heart," she says, smiling so bright. "I belong with you too, I know it in my bones, in my very soul."

She moves a little closer. "As mysterious as its makers, perhaps. They are like that too."

This dress was not designed with her wings in mind, so she doesn't have them 'out' at the moment, but there is something of the fluttering of wings in her sleeves as she dances, something of tail feathers in her skirt.

Closer, closer...silently he urges her to come closer to him, because he wants so badly to run his fingertips over the silk, feel the fabric, feel her body beneath his touch. He does not have to beckon her with motions, because she knows what he wants, and she's teasing him with it.

And once she is near enough to him to almost reach, he raises a hand up to what will be her waist level, if she just moves ever-so-slightly closer to him.

"C'mere, my love."

She does know what he wants, and she's more than happy to give it to him! She moves that little bit closer, lets him feel the smoothest silk he's ever felt. It's warm now too, from her body heat, delicate and far stronger than its appearance would suggest. Whatever the pinprick sparkles are made of, they are cool under his fingers by comparison.

"Like this, or did you want me closer?"

"Want you much closer," he mutters under his breath. "But I would not risk harm to this dress."

He feels as if his fingers should catch and snag against the material, but they strangely do not - it is much stronger than he imagined, and at the same time, the touch is smooth and soft, almost impossibly so.

"My mind cannot wrap around this material. It is...unnatural," he murmurs, still studying it as he trails his fingertips up from her waist, skating along her ribcage, to glide and settle beneath one of her breasts. "And fascinating."

"You won't hurt it," she assures him. "I saw a dress like it resist a sharp blade and considerable force, Fair Folk magic."

Her breath catches as his fingertips skate along her ribcage, settle beneath one of her breasts.

"As long as you're certain," he 'asks' her. When she nods her confirmation, he backs them close to the bed and pulls her gently to settle onto his lap, his hand sliding to her hip to hold her close to him, keep her from falling as she winds her arms around his neck.

And she was right! It does not snag. His other hand toys with the neckline as he leans in to catch her mouth in a kiss - this one much less chaste than the ones previous.

She settles on his lap and matches his much less chaste kiss with a much less chaste kiss of her own. This kiss has an edge of hunger, of WANT, to it. Her hands wander, tease, toy briefly with the feathers of his wings.

When they break for air, she grins. "Bet I could ride your cock without taking this dress off," she pants.

The sound that Skellig makes in response to that statement is a mix between a whine and a growl, very much a yes please thank you very much - he is not quite ready for that, but with the way she is kissing him and teasing at his feathers, it should not take long.

"That's a bet I'm willing to take," he laughs breathlessly, leaning in for another kiss, bringing his hand to tease at her nipple through the silk as he does so.

She moans into his mouth as he teases her nipple through the silk, nipple starting to harden under his fingers. That feels so good, but she's going to need a lot of stimulation before she's ready to ride him comfortably.

"Good," she purrs. "Want to make you feel so good, make all those lovely sounds you make just for me."

With as thick and soundproof as these walls are within the Lair, it would be wise of her brother to not lie about his estimated arrival time...simply because this final evening of pleasure will likely be full of lovely sounds he makes, just for her.

"Will gladly be as loud as you'd like," he says. "Since while we are traveling, we may have to show a much higher level of discretion...it would be in our best interests to get it out of our system tonight."

Might as well be smart about it! He smirks. "Kiss me like you mean it, dragon. See how loud you can make me groan for you."

If her brother shows up early, he has no one but himself to blame for overhearing sex noises!

Is he bold or foolish to dare a dragon? Whichever it is, she CLAIMS his mouth with her kiss, her energy wild and ravenous for her mate!

And yet, ravenous as she is, there is also the same infinite patience she showed on the beach the night they were joined. She wants to savor every morsel of his pleasure, unfurl the secrets of his ecstasy slowly and carefully, the way she mapped out how to touch his wings to drive him wild.

One hand remains at the back of his neck to stroke the sensitive spot there, but the other teases his lower back as she straddles his lap, presses herself against him.

It would be fair to call him both bold and foolish, for daring any dragon - but to dare his dragon is another matter entirely! Skellig accepts the 'challenge' and allows himself to be claimed with her kiss, melting into it (while not completely collapsing into a puddle) and groaning happily at the sensations that ripple through his body.

Between her kisses and her touches, this feels good. He tips his head back slightly to press his neck into her strokes, runs a hand up her stomach, his fingertips exploring the layers of the sheer fabric, the alternating warm silk and cool shimmer.

It does feel good, and his responses only serve to make the flame of her desire burn hotter.

She moans softly into his mouth as his fingertips explore the fabric over her stomach. The silk alters the feeling just enough that the sensation is a novel pleasure.

Her hand that was at his back wanders, will remove any clothing Skellig might still be wearing, then work on 'adjusting' her dress so that none of it is underneath either of them. Silk slides over his thighs as she works.

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