[ A soft moan escapes his lips. He can't help it; her gentle touch is like fire against his skin, especially as she traces over the broken parts of him. Surgery lines, different from the collection he'd had in his younger days, but nearly as numerous. Here is a man who's had to be knitted back together multiple times, for multiple, separate reasons. The joy of having fragile bones and leading a mercenary admiral's life ... But she does not shrink back from them. And he too only looks up at her own scars with fondness and fascination. They've both had a rough life. Both survived experiences that should have killed them many times over ...
He's still in his pants after all this, and now he's desperate to be rid of them. Equally desperate not to pull back even an inch from Lakshmi. Another soft groan as her lips find his throat, her warmth and her tongue sending electric shocks through his body. He wants so badly to make her feel as good as he does right now, even at this early stage. He glides a hand up her spine to her shoulderblades, holding her closer. The other hand stays at her breast. He squeezes gently, feeling that firm softness beneath his palm, and flicks one thumb over her nipple. A quick motion followed by something gentle and circular. All the attention that isn't occupied by the feeling of her larger body above him (or her very distracting mouth) is tuned towards her reaction. He knows a variety of ways to pleasure a woman; he aims to find out what she likes best. ]
Very fond. [ He breathes the words after a moment. When he finds a moment to catch his breath. ] All so far, in fact. Taller than me too, but that's not so unusual.
[ He definitely prefers a larger partner. Lucky for him, since that's nearly all the choice he gets. After Taura, nearly everyone else seems small in comparison anyway. ]
[ It had been her business as Queen - or as a wife, to pour over other's needs. These days, her goals were a different kind of broad, with little space for indulging in kindness, but it still comes naturally. To pour over him in return. To leave lines of kisses, to feel how he moves against her, to focus on the sound he makes and draw them from him in eagerness that she has the same effect on him that he does on her. Says that has no future, and she caters to him like he was her husband - and perhaps, he reminds her of him, sometimes. Not, not in the physical. Gangadhar had been a stately man, but he too had been bright. Keen. Interested, always interested. Taught her to be the same. Despite their differences, it had been easy to love him, in their way.
Perhaps it has nothing at all to do with ruling, perhaps it is that she likes her control, likes to control. But like this, she thinks it is forgivable. Or that he does not seem to mind very much.
Means though, that she's focused on him, to not quite notice as his hands move, even when he presses them together and closer. But it's impossible not to, as his thumb moves, catching where she's sensitive and she rocks in easy reaction. A grind of shock that wants, and she reaches to kiss him again. It's not half so careful, half so polite. It's demanding, dragging her mouth over his, as she breathes shakily on his name like a sacred thing. Miles, and she scrapes her nails across his skin in impatience. There are still too many clothes between them. But she'll see to it, in just a second, just a second, and she moans into his mouth as his thumb circles around teasingly enough to make it hard to follow through on anything else but pressing in and around.
[ Beyond forgivable, even. Miles, who loves danger in all other things, always gets a thrill of excitement to put himself in his lover's hands. In reality he must needs be a count's heir, a mercenary admiral. A man with many responsibilities. In bed ... The relief of shedding it all like he does his clothing is a potent aphrodisiac. He doesn't need to be responsible tonight. She can lead until she's tired of it, and he will serve with all the tricks and cleverness at his disposal.
Another soft moan as he grinds against him. It's more a vibration than a noise as he kisses her back desperately, pressing his tongue past her lips. (Attentive, always, to whether she's enjoying that part or not. His steady belief about his own undesirability has, at least, made him a very observant lover.) If he doesn't get those pants off now he's going to be severely encumbered by his own erection.
He continues his circular thumb motions with one hand, matching her pressure with additional strength of his own. Careful not to press hard enough to hurt, just enough to be pleasant. His other hand reaches down awkwardly to his own waistband. He wriggles under her, shoving with that one hand while trying to kick the damn things off with his legs. It likely looks incredibly stupid. He really could not give less of a shit. But he does need a little help here. ]
[ If he does look silly, it only makes her fond, and she's easy to giving him help. Rather, she presses her hands flat to his shoulders to push him flat back to the ground again. Unforgivable as it is to lose his hands at her breasts, her back, making her feel cool and warm all at once in the way that trickles all the way down her spine and pools.
Not yet, it'll be better. Though she takes a second as she gets him back and down to drag over her gaze over him, to take a breath in before she lowered off his face, pressing her lips together as she swallowed, on that taste of it. Sinks her front two teeth into her bottom lip as she hooks her thumbs against the waistband of his pants. To get it down and out of the way as she lowers herself again, pushing down and breathing low on his stomach, on another set of scars.
Follows it as she gets them down over his hips, her mouth warm as she sets it to him, light, praising, wanting. Her hair falling over her shoulder, still braided tightly out of the way, but: dragging on his skin just as much. It's no more than teasing, any of it. Gauging his reactions like he had hers, but only now she's firmly out of reach. ]
[ Too far out of reach, damn it all. He's glad to have his pants gone; not so glad to not be at the right angle to do something for her in turn. He'd moaned softly at that biting kiss, shivered under her mouth and the teasing touch of her braid. Miles likes ... not everything, admittedly - and he's only half-Betan too - but he's open to trying most things. Being accepted physically is the most important part. And any act that doesn't turn him into an object instead of a person, that thinks about his body in a way that doesn't find it strange or off-putting ... It's a good one. Even now that experience is too rare.
It makes him want more. Everything they can do together. Everything he can give her ...
He runs a thumb over his lip where she'd bitten him, a warm and hazy expression settling over his face as he watches her head dip towards his hips. Nearly maddened with the teasing. ]
I think if you keep doing that, I might just explode. [ He sits up just enough to brace against his forearms. ]
[ She doesn't let him have that, either, rather when his voice calls her up and her head lifts the barest amount to look at him - it's nothing less than predatory. Warm in her gaze and hungry, her smile lazy and slow and her gaze on him. ]
Not until I'm done with you.
[ Her head drops again, that little bit lower on his hips and she bites, almost enough to sting, but not quite there. Shifts her weight to balance on one hand and on her knees as the other hand moves slow, settling against his leg and drawing up and across. A light barely there touch against the set of her teeth and tongue on him, but pointed in her goal, as her fingers slip against the base of his erection. Teasing, teasing, teasing. Careful with her hold - her hands were rougher, these days than they had been. No one to tend her and soften her edges anymore. Only gotten worse since they came here.
There, lets him settle into the feel, before she moves her mouth up again, the warm wet press of her mouth, on skin. Waiting to see what he'd do with it. Just how far he might let her go with it. How far she could yank - she never liked less than everything. Than taking as much as she could. ]
[ Wow. Miles draws in a sharp little breath at that. Appreciative, really; he can only appreciate a woman who is willing to be rough with him. All his former lovers had treated him like he was made of glass, at least physically. Which ... was almost literally true, in their defence. Taura in particular could have snapped him in half. Give him someone not afraid to bruise him up a little and he's all theirs. ]
Hopefully - not for - a while. [ The words stutter out between breaths. The biting, her teasing fingers on his erection, and then her mouth again, beautifully warm and just a little bit dangerous. He can't help the faint keening noise that escapes him as he rocks his hips forward a little. More, please. Everything. ]
[ Her hands lost the ability to be kind, like that. She holds now, holds with purpose - scared of losing whatever it is she's holding onto probably. But she isn't inclined to admit that anytime soon: and besides, right now, it's the furthest thought from her mind as she feels his reactions against her. The hitch in his breath, the strain of his words as she curves over him and gives him her full attention. A husky low little laugh where she's always dry.
Her mouth dropping lines of warmth on his skin, draws up a red mark on his hip - times it as her fingers curl around him, where he settles warm and heavy in her palm. Something there about having his full attention, but there's hardly a doubt right now, she's sure. Drags her thumb across the tip of him before she strokes back down.
Keeps her hand there, slow easy strokes, as she moves back up him. She's still far too clothes, but it does not bother her so much. The hand balancing her shifting her weight as she draws up and over him, her spine curving as she leans to kiss him. Opening her mouth against him, slow. Kisses him like she has all the time in the world and is happy to be messy with it. Drawing out his reactions into her. ]
[ Nothing short of his full attention now, oh yes. She'd had from the moment her deft fingers curled around him. A shuddering gasp goes all through him as his world narrows to just the two of them. Hell, just her and her hand and the feeling of her rough skin against him. (He is averagely endowed in that area, at least; the teratogen that had stunted his growth had done nothing to the fleshier parts of him, at least.)
When she leans down to kiss him, it's all he can do to return the gesture coherently. Necessarily slow in turn, pressing his tongue in deeply when he's not too distracted by her hand. He manages to get his own hand back up to her breast. More clumsily this time, he finds the circle of her areola beneath his thumb and begins those slow, gentle massaging circles again. He digs his other hand into her back, his fingers scrabbling for purchase. Good. Yes. All of this is good so far. ]
[ She presses heavy into his hand, his mouth. A breath of his name into his mouth like there is nothing else, a second where she pauses, just to swallow on the sound. His clumsy, not so polite a touch only makes her want it more, because they are honest and they are his. To know she is having an effect ( as if she could know otherwise, with him in hand, so to speak and her fingers tighten just slightly so around the tip of him ), is something she craves.
His hand pulls her in, until she's hovering heat with her clothes still in the way. It takes an age where she'd rather just keep touching him, keeping feeling him buck against her in the barest want of the pressure she's craving. In a little, in a little, but she blinks at him, her lips full from kissing him and her tongue pressing against the back of her teeth in a second, as she finds the hand at her back briefly, to guide it to her hips and the waistband of her pants to give him a hint as to what she wanted.
Get them off of her, as he wants to. This isn't perfect, but it is theirs, and as it keeps going it might as well be perfect. Her fingers as incentive as she keeps her pace steady as she can. Not half so unaffected as she might like to appear. But wasn't that always her way? Anticipation in return with her permission given to let him touch as much as he liked. ]
[ He's very, very pleased with her ministrations thus far. But his eyes light up further at her gestures towards her pants. That is an article of clothing he'd be more than happy to relieve her of. With what seems like a monumental amount of self control, he manages to drag his attention away from her hand wrapped around him to her clothing instead. He hooks his thumb carefully into the waistband and tugs downwards. Sliding those trousers down over her hips slowly, taking in the sight of her flesh revealing itself under his fingers.
She'll need to step out yet. Or wriggle out. Either is a delightful prospect. He beams up at her, half drunk off their physicality already. God. He's missed doing this so much. ]
My lady.
[ He bows his head towards her pants with a bit of humor twisting his lips. ]
[ It's such a want, to use her own heat to see how he'd react, how far she could push. To press herself close to him where she can already feel how she's warm and easy to this. Drag slick heat against and watch him, watch his eyes. So fever bright, always, and there's something to having someone who was so much inside of themselves, so focused on her. But -
Not like this, not at this angle. Too much in the way.
She gives him some peace - though whether that's something he wants right now, is another matter entirely. Because reluctant as it is, she has to detangle her hands from him. Pushes herself up to rake her hair back over her shoulders before she curves back to hook against the buckles of her leg braces. Undoing them in quick jerked motion until they fall away and it's easy to wriggle her trousers down the rest of the way over her hips, past the tops of her knees. Perhaps not as graceful as she could be, but firm movements that are determined, until it takes a little bit more squirming to get them down over her boots. Too impatient to get them off right now.
Too wary at being out in the open, too. ]
My lord.
[ She settles back over him, a little more purposefully this time. Bare, as bare as she has been for an age - content in it. She has no shame of herself. Her hands settle flat to his shoulders and stroke down to his hips with a firm settling of her soldier's grip. Like this is right, at ends with each other, his scars to hers, his skin framed in the bracket of hers. Secrets, that are theirs. That she might have places that aren't so rough, aren't all damaged, that are his, right now.
Heat that is so - gently, hardly, barely there - above him. Her own briefly twisting humour in return. ]
[ He settles back to watch a moment, drinking in the sight of her disrobing. Cloth sliding over her scarred body, revealing more in turn as she sets it aside. He would have liked the look of her regardless - he of all people doesn't judge based on appearances - but he decides he quite likes those scars. The rough edges. Regality married to toughness hard enough to break a sword on, if she didn't flat out defeat the attacker before they could get that far. Competent and dangerous. God, she's proper Vor, isn't she? Despite her not being Barrayaran in the slightest.
Another soft groan escapes him as she resettles down on top of him. Not quite far down enough. He frankly twitches at that last tease. All the more overwhelming for being so incredibly close to him. He reaches his hands up to rest on her hips in turn, his thumbs braced gently against her hipbones. And if she permits him, he carefully guides her down lower. Slides her down on top of him, sliding himself inside her with a faint hudder. There. That is what he wants more than anything else right now. He leans up with the motion, shifting to put his arms around her instead. Mouthing at the plane of her abdomen, lips warm against the underside of her breast. ]
[ She lets him, slides her hip down to catch him at the angle and when it's not quite easily done, her fingers guide him into her. God, it has been too long. Feeling full and empty at once, that crawling heat in her limbs and for a second she doesn't think on being quiet or polite as her hands settle to his hips, nails pressing crescents into skin.
He shudders, she gasps, can't help it but to move. To feel herself adjust to him catch and God, God, God, his mouth, is messy and perfect on her skin. Feel the fluttering of muscles under her skin at the touch. Forgive her, forgive her, forgive her, as her head goes back, face turning up and away as she begins to move in earnest. Her hips rising and falling briefly, slowly, carefully. Her spine curving, as she sinks down on him again and she moans, soft and light, deeper perhaps than to be ladylike.
God, it feels good. For there to be now and nothing else. Muscles doing something other than killing as she moves. ]
[ Miles could not give less of a damn about ladylike noises now. Rather he wants to draw out more of those sounds, as many as he possibly can. He moves with her; he's all about matching himself to her rather than the opposite. Her curves, her muscles alike, the map of her body - it's all beautiful and warm and pressing against him. He continues to mouth at the swell of her breath. His fingers dig deeply into the curve of her spine, gripping as hard as he dares. Likely nothing to her, this incredibly strong woman on top of him.
His own breath comes in faint gasps, noises threaded between breaths like colored strands. He wants so much. It's the what that's still confusing. A solution to his identity crisis? Just a good moment between the two of them? A future? No, they'd already agreed that neither of them have any. Even if he follows her to her world, he is signing up for something very different from what he'd dreamed of as child. Had continued to want very desperately as an adult: a family, a legacy.
(But he's shattered both possibilities anyway. The future is too changed to allow Miles Naismith Vorkosigan back into it.)
He shivers against her, continuing to stroke upwards into her blazing heat. A little more, a little more... ]
[ By contrast, she forgets it all but this. How he rocks into her, the press of him that fills her, the warmth of his mouth. It's been far too long since someone touched her, wanted her, not for nobility or title, or like they accused her often enough, from some artful seduction. Just that he wanted her and she wanted him. Just that she thinks on nothing else for as long as this is. ( did not Mastani tell Baji Rao she had stopped dawn just by waiting for him to look upon her? did she not ask the same now? later, later was not just forgotten she forced it back, for just a little while. )
A strained breath, her head back and her spine arches, it goes, it goes, it goes. Her fingers rake through her hair, pulling it back from her face as the braid comes loose and tangled down her back. Content in this unravelled state as she finally tilts back down to look at him.
Him, and nothing else.
Her fingers slipping up his back to hold fast to his shoulders. He is strong enough, she knows, she never doubted it. An encouraged sigh as he grips hard to her waist. No, no, nothing else. No future, barely a past now. Just this. Just this. Just this. Look at her, and nothing else. This is all.
She leans now, hair falling back over her shoulder where she has pushed it away, hiding them both away as it falls, the gold slipping in disarray. The cry against his mouth is loud as the angle shifts as they move. Needful, more of it, she will have everything he gives to her and not a bit less, feels herself curl tightly around him as she sinks down onto him again and the movements become quicker, smooth for it. An expectation that cracks like full summer air, all ready to storm. ]
[ She's so incredibly beautiful. The fall of her hair, the curve of her breasts, the lines of her scars, the power in her muscles. There is nothing better than this moment. He wants to crystallize it in his mind. God knows what this means for them. Is this a one-off or the beginning of something else? He can't be anxious about that now. Not with her warm and wet around him, drawing him into her more deeply.
He cries out softly. Murmuring her name, pleading for more. More, more. He's nearly at the brink of release now; he can hardly bear any more of this. ]
[ There, and she knows she has him, feels it in the frantic way he moves. How near he is, and her own want is second to it. Focused as she is on him, her hand moves, catches him under the jaw where she's got him caught against her and presses him back again. Leaning into him, kisses that are broken up into rough pants of breath as she moves and as gives him the easy bribe of her body pressed in close to his. Her breasts pressing into his chest as she takes short ragged breaths against his mouth. Heavy and full with this, his name is the taste of him in her mouth, he is the way she feels all of her shudder as she sinks down onto him over and over again.
Doesn't give him respite, as she moves without pause, short sharp circles that are deep and catch her so sweetly her eyes shut and it becomes less about giving him this as them both coming undone. Her fingers slipping into his hair as she can't think, can't form the words, can't do anything else but keep moving until one of them breaks first. ]
I need - [ more, her voice is rasping with that need, him to touch her, anywhere, everywhere, as much as he can. Brand her skin with something that isn't a battlefield as surely as she kisses something that isn't pulling him and taking from him, but tipping as much of herself into the cracks of those scars. ] - I need, Miles, I -
[ It's a sharply inhaled breath against his throat as she quickly presses the loud sharp cry, guttural and more honest than attractive. Just the one that would surely give them away before she pulls up. Her forehead leaning into his and her eyes tightly shut. She rocks too hard, too quick, too needfully down onto him. Give, give, give. Take, take, take as she comes, still moving too fast, too fast, too fast. That need driving every pulse and electric sharp current through her, around him, leant into him, curling around him. ]
[ It doesn't take much longer for him to follow her. The speed of her above him, the aftershocks of her own climax clenching around him. It's good that she's found her own release because he could not have held out any more than what he has already. He lets out a soft moan at that, shuddering all over as he comes inside of her. Feet bracing against their bedroll as he rolls his hips up into her one more time.
Then slowly, blissfully, he lets himself go slack. He tugs her down with her hands to lie with him for a moment, if she permits it. Still inside her, still staying as close as he can. But smiling through the sheen of sweat that glistens against his skin. ]
Incredible. [ He murmurs the word, lifting a hand up to her own sweat-tangled hair. ] My god, Lakshmi. You're incredible.
[ She laughs as she sinks down over him. Laying against him idly a moment to kiss him slow, smiling content through it. The hum dulled to something pleasant in her limbs that makes each movement languid, stretched out. Full in all her limbs and comfortable in herself. In him, not in a hurry to pull free of him even if - she's a slick mess between her thighs, but at least she's well past having to worry about children.
She settles more comfortably to them both. Angling to lay on her side next to him, turning him to face her. A coax where she keeps her leg draped over his hip, keeping them tucked together. Croaking warm laughter at his praise. ] As were you. [ The heat still flush on her skin, her cheeks. ] Here I was worried it had been so long...
[ well, out of practise is a term for it, she supposed. ]
[ He gladly turns to face her, resting his brow against her breasts. Luxuriating in the moment. Nothing quite like the afterglow of sex with a woman he's been fiercely attracted to ever since he first saw her. ]
Not too long at all. [ He says with a warm laugh. ] Or I'm equally out of practice, either way. When's the last time you had a chance to do this?
[ Her fingers brush against his hair. Not so strong a hold now, softly drawing it back over his ear as her skin cools. At least it was not so freezing that she can - just enjoy it. Stretch out against him with no want or need to do otherwise. Whatever was waiting for them could just - wait.
His question gets a huff of laughter, well that was embarrassing wasn't it? ]
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no subject
He's still in his pants after all this, and now he's desperate to be rid of them. Equally desperate not to pull back even an inch from Lakshmi. Another soft groan as her lips find his throat, her warmth and her tongue sending electric shocks through his body. He wants so badly to make her feel as good as he does right now, even at this early stage. He glides a hand up her spine to her shoulderblades, holding her closer. The other hand stays at her breast. He squeezes gently, feeling that firm softness beneath his palm, and flicks one thumb over her nipple. A quick motion followed by something gentle and circular. All the attention that isn't occupied by the feeling of her larger body above him (or her very distracting mouth) is tuned towards her reaction. He knows a variety of ways to pleasure a woman; he aims to find out what she likes best. ]
Very fond. [ He breathes the words after a moment. When he finds a moment to catch his breath. ] All so far, in fact. Taller than me too, but that's not so unusual.
[ He definitely prefers a larger partner. Lucky for him, since that's nearly all the choice he gets. After Taura, nearly everyone else seems small in comparison anyway. ]
no subject
Perhaps it has nothing at all to do with ruling, perhaps it is that she likes her control, likes to control. But like this, she thinks it is forgivable. Or that he does not seem to mind very much.
Means though, that she's focused on him, to not quite notice as his hands move, even when he presses them together and closer. But it's impossible not to, as his thumb moves, catching where she's sensitive and she rocks in easy reaction. A grind of shock that wants, and she reaches to kiss him again. It's not half so careful, half so polite. It's demanding, dragging her mouth over his, as she breathes shakily on his name like a sacred thing. Miles, and she scrapes her nails across his skin in impatience. There are still too many clothes between them. But she'll see to it, in just a second, just a second, and she moans into his mouth as his thumb circles around teasingly enough to make it hard to follow through on anything else but pressing in and around.
It's really been far too long. ]
no subject
Another soft moan as he grinds against him. It's more a vibration than a noise as he kisses her back desperately, pressing his tongue past her lips. (Attentive, always, to whether she's enjoying that part or not. His steady belief about his own undesirability has, at least, made him a very observant lover.) If he doesn't get those pants off now he's going to be severely encumbered by his own erection.
He continues his circular thumb motions with one hand, matching her pressure with additional strength of his own. Careful not to press hard enough to hurt, just enough to be pleasant. His other hand reaches down awkwardly to his own waistband. He wriggles under her, shoving with that one hand while trying to kick the damn things off with his legs. It likely looks incredibly stupid. He really could not give less of a shit. But he does need a little help here. ]
no subject
Not yet, it'll be better. Though she takes a second as she gets him back and down to drag over her gaze over him, to take a breath in before she lowered off his face, pressing her lips together as she swallowed, on that taste of it. Sinks her front two teeth into her bottom lip as she hooks her thumbs against the waistband of his pants. To get it down and out of the way as she lowers herself again, pushing down and breathing low on his stomach, on another set of scars.
Follows it as she gets them down over his hips, her mouth warm as she sets it to him, light, praising, wanting. Her hair falling over her shoulder, still braided tightly out of the way, but: dragging on his skin just as much. It's no more than teasing, any of it. Gauging his reactions like he had hers, but only now she's firmly out of reach. ]
no subject
It makes him want more. Everything they can do together. Everything he can give her ...
He runs a thumb over his lip where she'd bitten him, a warm and hazy expression settling over his face as he watches her head dip towards his hips. Nearly maddened with the teasing. ]
I think if you keep doing that, I might just explode. [ He sits up just enough to brace against his forearms. ]
no subject
Not until I'm done with you.
[ Her head drops again, that little bit lower on his hips and she bites, almost enough to sting, but not quite there. Shifts her weight to balance on one hand and on her knees as the other hand moves slow, settling against his leg and drawing up and across. A light barely there touch against the set of her teeth and tongue on him, but pointed in her goal, as her fingers slip against the base of his erection. Teasing, teasing, teasing. Careful with her hold - her hands were rougher, these days than they had been. No one to tend her and soften her edges anymore. Only gotten worse since they came here.
There, lets him settle into the feel, before she moves her mouth up again, the warm wet press of her mouth, on skin. Waiting to see what he'd do with it. Just how far he might let her go with it. How far she could yank - she never liked less than everything. Than taking as much as she could. ]
no subject
Hopefully - not for - a while. [ The words stutter out between breaths. The biting, her teasing fingers on his erection, and then her mouth again, beautifully warm and just a little bit dangerous. He can't help the faint keening noise that escapes him as he rocks his hips forward a little. More, please. Everything. ]
no subject
Her mouth dropping lines of warmth on his skin, draws up a red mark on his hip - times it as her fingers curl around him, where he settles warm and heavy in her palm. Something there about having his full attention, but there's hardly a doubt right now, she's sure. Drags her thumb across the tip of him before she strokes back down.
Keeps her hand there, slow easy strokes, as she moves back up him. She's still far too clothes, but it does not bother her so much. The hand balancing her shifting her weight as she draws up and over him, her spine curving as she leans to kiss him. Opening her mouth against him, slow. Kisses him like she has all the time in the world and is happy to be messy with it. Drawing out his reactions into her. ]
no subject
When she leans down to kiss him, it's all he can do to return the gesture coherently. Necessarily slow in turn, pressing his tongue in deeply when he's not too distracted by her hand. He manages to get his own hand back up to her breast. More clumsily this time, he finds the circle of her areola beneath his thumb and begins those slow, gentle massaging circles again. He digs his other hand into her back, his fingers scrabbling for purchase. Good. Yes. All of this is good so far. ]
no subject
His hand pulls her in, until she's hovering heat with her clothes still in the way. It takes an age where she'd rather just keep touching him, keeping feeling him buck against her in the barest want of the pressure she's craving. In a little, in a little, but she blinks at him, her lips full from kissing him and her tongue pressing against the back of her teeth in a second, as she finds the hand at her back briefly, to guide it to her hips and the waistband of her pants to give him a hint as to what she wanted.
Get them off of her, as he wants to. This isn't perfect, but it is theirs, and as it keeps going it might as well be perfect. Her fingers as incentive as she keeps her pace steady as she can. Not half so unaffected as she might like to appear. But wasn't that always her way? Anticipation in return with her permission given to let him touch as much as he liked. ]
no subject
She'll need to step out yet. Or wriggle out. Either is a delightful prospect. He beams up at her, half drunk off their physicality already. God. He's missed doing this so much. ]
My lady.
[ He bows his head towards her pants with a bit of humor twisting his lips. ]
no subject
Not like this, not at this angle. Too much in the way.
She gives him some peace - though whether that's something he wants right now, is another matter entirely. Because reluctant as it is, she has to detangle her hands from him. Pushes herself up to rake her hair back over her shoulders before she curves back to hook against the buckles of her leg braces. Undoing them in quick jerked motion until they fall away and it's easy to wriggle her trousers down the rest of the way over her hips, past the tops of her knees. Perhaps not as graceful as she could be, but firm movements that are determined, until it takes a little bit more squirming to get them down over her boots. Too impatient to get them off right now.
Too wary at being out in the open, too. ]
My lord.
[ She settles back over him, a little more purposefully this time. Bare, as bare as she has been for an age - content in it. She has no shame of herself. Her hands settle flat to his shoulders and stroke down to his hips with a firm settling of her soldier's grip. Like this is right, at ends with each other, his scars to hers, his skin framed in the bracket of hers. Secrets, that are theirs. That she might have places that aren't so rough, aren't all damaged, that are his, right now.
Heat that is so - gently, hardly, barely there - above him. Her own briefly twisting humour in return. ]
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Another soft groan escapes him as she resettles down on top of him. Not quite far down enough. He frankly twitches at that last tease. All the more overwhelming for being so incredibly close to him. He reaches his hands up to rest on her hips in turn, his thumbs braced gently against her hipbones. And if she permits him, he carefully guides her down lower. Slides her down on top of him, sliding himself inside her with a faint hudder. There. That is what he wants more than anything else right now. He leans up with the motion, shifting to put his arms around her instead. Mouthing at the plane of her abdomen, lips warm against the underside of her breast. ]
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He shudders, she gasps, can't help it but to move. To feel herself adjust to him catch and God, God, God, his mouth, is messy and perfect on her skin. Feel the fluttering of muscles under her skin at the touch. Forgive her, forgive her, forgive her, as her head goes back, face turning up and away as she begins to move in earnest. Her hips rising and falling briefly, slowly, carefully. Her spine curving, as she sinks down on him again and she moans, soft and light, deeper perhaps than to be ladylike.
God, it feels good. For there to be now and nothing else. Muscles doing something other than killing as she moves. ]
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His own breath comes in faint gasps, noises threaded between breaths like colored strands. He wants so much. It's the what that's still confusing. A solution to his identity crisis? Just a good moment between the two of them? A future? No, they'd already agreed that neither of them have any. Even if he follows her to her world, he is signing up for something very different from what he'd dreamed of as child. Had continued to want very desperately as an adult: a family, a legacy.
(But he's shattered both possibilities anyway. The future is too changed to allow Miles Naismith Vorkosigan back into it.)
He shivers against her, continuing to stroke upwards into her blazing heat. A little more, a little more... ]
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A strained breath, her head back and her spine arches, it goes, it goes, it goes. Her fingers rake through her hair, pulling it back from her face as the braid comes loose and tangled down her back. Content in this unravelled state as she finally tilts back down to look at him.
Him, and nothing else.
Her fingers slipping up his back to hold fast to his shoulders. He is strong enough, she knows, she never doubted it. An encouraged sigh as he grips hard to her waist. No, no, nothing else. No future, barely a past now. Just this. Just this. Just this. Look at her, and nothing else. This is all.
She leans now, hair falling back over her shoulder where she has pushed it away, hiding them both away as it falls, the gold slipping in disarray. The cry against his mouth is loud as the angle shifts as they move. Needful, more of it, she will have everything he gives to her and not a bit less, feels herself curl tightly around him as she sinks down onto him again and the movements become quicker, smooth for it. An expectation that cracks like full summer air, all ready to storm. ]
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He cries out softly. Murmuring her name, pleading for more. More, more. He's nearly at the brink of release now; he can hardly bear any more of this. ]
Lakshmi ... God, Lakshmi.
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Doesn't give him respite, as she moves without pause, short sharp circles that are deep and catch her so sweetly her eyes shut and it becomes less about giving him this as them both coming undone. Her fingers slipping into his hair as she can't think, can't form the words, can't do anything else but keep moving until one of them breaks first. ]
I need - [ more, her voice is rasping with that need, him to touch her, anywhere, everywhere, as much as he can. Brand her skin with something that isn't a battlefield as surely as she kisses something that isn't pulling him and taking from him, but tipping as much of herself into the cracks of those scars. ] - I need, Miles, I -
[ It's a sharply inhaled breath against his throat as she quickly presses the loud sharp cry, guttural and more honest than attractive. Just the one that would surely give them away before she pulls up. Her forehead leaning into his and her eyes tightly shut. She rocks too hard, too quick, too needfully down onto him. Give, give, give. Take, take, take as she comes, still moving too fast, too fast, too fast. That need driving every pulse and electric sharp current through her, around him, leant into him, curling around him. ]
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Then slowly, blissfully, he lets himself go slack. He tugs her down with her hands to lie with him for a moment, if she permits it. Still inside her, still staying as close as he can. But smiling through the sheen of sweat that glistens against his skin. ]
Incredible. [ He murmurs the word, lifting a hand up to her own sweat-tangled hair. ] My god, Lakshmi. You're incredible.
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She settles more comfortably to them both. Angling to lay on her side next to him, turning him to face her. A coax where she keeps her leg draped over his hip, keeping them tucked together. Croaking warm laughter at his praise. ] As were you. [ The heat still flush on her skin, her cheeks. ] Here I was worried it had been so long...
[ well, out of practise is a term for it, she supposed. ]
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Not too long at all. [ He says with a warm laugh. ] Or I'm equally out of practice, either way. When's the last time you had a chance to do this?
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His question gets a huff of laughter, well that was embarrassing wasn't it? ]
Some fifteen years by my last count.
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... I am very sorry, then. Fifteen months would be a dry spell for me. [ A beat. ] I - must seem very young.
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Most do, after awhile. [ Sad there, but isn't she always a little? That too, a price of age. Regret. A life not spent idle. ]
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Mm. I suppose that's true too. [ He presses a light kiss to the hollow between her breasts. ] As long as you don't mind my youthful foolishness.
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