[ 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? ]
[ That answer comes nothing but easy. She rolls herself against him in a way that's pointed, still slick that the slide of him is nothing but easy, the breathless little sigh where she's still just that bit too sensitive. Pressing herself to him flush as her hand strokes up his side purposeful. ]
[ His mouth goes a bit dry at that. And he allows himself a long, pleased look down at their intertwined bodies. He rests his hand over hers as she strokes up his side. ]
[ She shifts to let him, let him look as much as he likes. He alone has that right now, she hides nothing from him as she stretches out in full, her head tilting a little as he settles his hand. Catching his fingers in her own, resting them on his hip. ]
There is nothing lacking about you to me, nor has there ever been.
[ Her Miles. Her eyes soften briefly. What a cruel life given to him, to doubt so much. A want to kiss him but nor does she untangle her fingers from his. Opts instead to press her nose to his hair, gesture him up so she can. Soft, light, comforting.
Promised, simple as that. ]
I would make love to you as many times you've ever been told that to erase that thought.
[ Oh. He can't help but get a bit choked up at that simple promise so easily made. He tilts his head up to kiss her in return, lightly. It gives him a moment to swallow down his emotions. ]
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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. ]
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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. ]
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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. ]
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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. ]
no subject
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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I think it is quite obvious I rather enjoy it.
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[ He says it with a smile, but - well, he has to ask once. For the sake of his own shitty self-worth. ]
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Do I seem an unsatisfied woman to you?
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No. I daresay not.
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There is nothing lacking about you to me, nor has there ever been.
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Thank you. I'd not sensed any of that from you, just ...
[ He makes a helpless gesture. ]
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Promised, simple as that. ]
I would make love to you as many times you've ever been told that to erase that thought.
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You're promising quite a lot, my lady.
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