[ she says, not moving, not even slightly lifting a finger, or opening her eyes. Rather, she just slides her fingers indulgently against his forearm, where it's across her waist. ]
[ Her eyes flicker open to look back at him, lazily bright. Smile curling softly, pleased. Good, she had hoped to keep him here for awhile. He was ever eager, in his word. Though it was not so grave a thing right now. In the end, it's she fumbles a little with the language. There are crude ones she knows in English, that the women of the brothel might say. Oh, something pretty and ugly all at the same time when they rolled onto their backs and begged money off a patron and acted like they were doing them a favour. 'Fuck her until she can't breath'. Maybe she should have taken a leaf out of a tawaif's book and perfected some art to the asking.
But that would sound ... awful coming out of her mouth to shock them both and otherwise to quite probably be ridiculous - the restrictions of station never quite let her learn even if she'd never been displeased with the whole of it or inclined to skirt around giving orders. No, no, she wouldn't waste words where action would do.
Something sweeter, something less forgiving perhaps than words. She catches his hand in the lay of her fingers, bringing it up to her lips, kissing the tips of them briefly before she closes her mouth around the first and second one. Soft and warm touch as she brushes the tip of her tongue to the pad of his fingers. Wetting them, letting them sit damp against her lips a moment as she meets his eyes.
Holds to his face still, as she guides his hand down to where they're still joined, shifting them apart just that little to give him the space she wants. Guiding him to touch her the way she likes, and more secret, more quiet, than blackwater and royalty and treason, how little it takes to make her swallow down and sigh in easiness. Slick from how they'd rolled together already, a flush on her skin for a thought, it's been awhile since she'd been such an unashamed mess. A heat that pulls as the shifting of her hips to give him room lets him shift inside of her. ]
I think - aashiq - [ Wets her lips, taking a breath in - english, Lakshmi, english. ] - start there.
[ Hopefully, it was enough of a starting point, could guide as she needed. Her fingers bracing against her wrist like she might her swords. Curving around loose and meticulous. ]
[ And Miles is still Count's heir, one of the highest Vor on his planet; for all that he pretends not to care about the trappings of his station, he is still a ruler and not the ruled. He has certain expectations even in bed. Part of which drives his utter attentiveness, as well as wanting to make this just perfect for the both of them. And besides, Miles is just a damn hopeless romantic. He has never really been about the quick fuck or just the physical side (though physicality is important too).
He sucks in a small breath as Lakshmi wets his fingers. Half-lids his eyes as her tongue meets his fingertips, flutters them lightly in her mouth as her warmth envelops them. An intimate gesture, at least as intimate as what they've already done together. He's glad to be able to return the favor, to shift his other hand down to match her guidance. She won't need to prompt him any more than that; Miles is already quite practiced in using all available options to please the women he's with.
He groans softly as she shifts on top of him, eliciting a flutter of movement from him inside her. Down, boy. He has other priorities. Gently, easily, he slides a finger inside her as his thumb flicks over her clitoris. Careful to keep his touch light at first, until he can gage her reaction, then slowly building in intensity. ]
What does that mean? [ He breathes the words, his attention mostly elsewhere. ] Aashiq?
[ Her breath is drawn ragged as she presses her face in close against his cheek. A warm puff of breath, as her fingers move to hold a little past him, into the ground and curl her knuckles in. Her leg sliding up his hip to draw her legs further apart to give him space to do as he wanted. To encourage each and every little furtive movement. Rewarding and eager to respond in turn, a content murmur when it's good, the thready inhale when it's better and that shivering tenseness that is along her spine when it's what she wants more than anything. Seemed more than just to know, he is always so quick and clever, trusts him with much of herself, already. But this is something she's happy to learn that he is just as careful with. Grips him hard like if he was to pull away from this now, it would be the death of her, something crafted to his holding, all cause and effect that as he asks a question, she can't quite form the words as she usually does.
Her fingers slip where can't answer him and have him at the same time. Pushes up a little, back, taking a gasp in for air. In turns, languid and stiff as she holds to him. That build that will surely be too much. ]
Lover. [ One burst out word, that she has to force between the soft calls of it like prayers. Silence between the shots. Enfields took such a long time to reload, all fumbling, gripping, clawing, she's fixed in her concentration, a dip between her brows as the previous whole word is swallowed up into another breathless sound, louder, this time. Another hum of gunfire and the way she arches with his name on her lips before she can again. ] It means my lover.
[ He continues, then, sliding a second finger in to join the first. Building still more pressure with his gentle strokes, reaching deep to find just the right angle to please her. He otherwise keeps himself still for the moment, despite how much his own needs are starting to press in on him. A bit more. Hold on there, he'll find his own release in a moment ... ]
A beautiful word. [ He lifts his chin so that he can look up at her, his gray eyes bright and warm. Lover. Yes, he likes the sound of that. Because this is what they are doing now, even if it isn't permanent. His blood still sings with more than just the sheer physicality of them. Lover. ] May I use it too?
[ How like him to ask, to give her these courtesies, where right now he could ask for so much more than a word from her. Every bit of her turning feverishly strung out. That snap-shudder of heat in her limbs where she had it just so briefly before - what was she doing, making up for lost time? Indulging in greed against the cold of a place that she was sure would claim her? Doesn't know or care about any of it right now, and maybe that's what she wants most. Where she can feel him settle hard and warm against her, inside of her and it's reflexive to it, how her core clenches around him.
Her response at first is to kiss him, tilt to catch his mouth in a mess of a thing, her teeth in his lip, her fingers pressing against his jaw to let her indulge in it. Pressing herself in close, jerked movements of her hips that grow more incessant. But that isn't an answer and she pulls back. ] As often as you like.
[ His pronunciation isn't perfect, but he speaks the word reverently. Laying it at her feet like an offering, in thanks for that kiss she'd granted him. His lips still seem to burn where her teeth had grazed him. He lowers his own lips to mouth at the point between her breasts. Gentle and soft even as his fingers begin to move in earnest, deepening inside of her. ]
Aashiq, [ he murmurs again, breathing the word into her skin. Chased by a small gasp as she clenches him tight. He wants - he needs again, so very much. He jolts his own hips lightly, careful not to interfere with his finger positioning. Just a bit more to add to their motion, to deepen the sensations he's building inside of her. ]
[ It's too much, he's always too much and she should learn to guard herself better, hide these things deeper, somewhere him and his words and his thoughts and his eyes cannot look in on her like that. Pried up out of the earth, out of her with the soft curl of his mouth around a word, around her skin. Doesn't leave her with anywhere else to go and isn't that just like him?
Hears it again and every part of her curls. Finds him in hands and lips and clawing digging motions to hold to him. The rock of her hips hard, not so much in taking contro of him, but losing it of herself. Trying to take as much as she can as her eyes shut tightly because it might be too much, to look at him pouring over her like she's something he wants so much, to be solid and not ash. Sinks her hips down harder against his fingers, the friction maddening in her skin. Should be careful with him, should be quiet, does neither. Carves that word into his back as her nails draw down his back, across his hips, moans low and heavy. Her leg tense where it's hooked against him, all sharp muscles, pulling in and close as she comes in a thready gasp that doesn't let her breath in or out. The same word back to him, amidst the others, aashiq, aashiq, aashiq. All falling apart and coming together at once around him as she sinks down to have him, as much of him as she can, inside of her. ]
[ Good. He's not quite there when she shivers around him, but he's close. Slowly, slowly, he withdraws his fingers so that he can smooth her through her aftershocks with just his erection. Thrusting in as deep as he can go, as far as he can venture inside of her. Each thrust quavering against the feeling of her clenching around him. A little more, a little more ... He wants her to get as much out of this as she can, to glide to repletion with him.
He curls his own hand against her back; his fingers are slick from touching her. Soft in comparison to the sharpness of her nails against him, but Miles sure as hell doesn't mind that. The faint touch of pain just makes him arch his own back a little more. A little pain to make the pleasure taste sweeter, oh yes. More importantly, it's genuine. Her holding on to him so tightly she draws lines along his back. He leans his head against her torso a moment, allowing himself at last to focus more on himself. Faster, harder. More. ]
[ It's so much it hurts, almost, her breathing falling uneven, as he keeps moving. Not done at all, but like this, at this angle, she can't do much more than hold onto him. Letting him drive deeper into her, each shudder shock of pleasure is as loud as her blood rushing in her ears, pulsing high and quick in a jolt. It's been years and years and years since someone slide so far under her skin and so much against her. Peeled her apart so open. Touched her like she wasn't a queen and wasn't a myth, just a woman, and undone her all just for that. So slick that his thrust into her is nothing but easy, begged, soft thing as whines and pants, claws and grips at him. Over his scars like she wants to leave her own on him. Abandoned of herself in a way that is just for him.
It's barely a shift, barely a pull. Wants to give him the leverage to keep rocking into her at that angle, to let him slip as deep into her as he can. Hard at that point where she can't speak, where she just can hold on. A come here that's a half word and the yank of her fingers as she rolls half back to give him leverage, to let her heel dig into the bedroll below them. So she can meet him just the same. Her hand shifting her anchor point lower to grip and yank. Thinks the rest - he's clever, she knows he is, where she can't think, she knows that he will do it enough for them both, that she wants him just like that. ]
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no subject
This tough woman could throw you off.
[ she says, not moving, not even slightly lifting a finger, or opening her eyes. Rather, she just slides her fingers indulgently against his forearm, where it's across her waist. ]
no subject
Will she, though?
no subject
Perhaps not - if she's suitably placated.
no subject
And how might I go about doing so? Anything she would like to try?
no subject
But that would sound ... awful coming out of her mouth to shock them both and otherwise to quite probably be ridiculous - the restrictions of station never quite let her learn even if she'd never been displeased with the whole of it or inclined to skirt around giving orders. No, no, she wouldn't waste words where action would do.
Something sweeter, something less forgiving perhaps than words. She catches his hand in the lay of her fingers, bringing it up to her lips, kissing the tips of them briefly before she closes her mouth around the first and second one. Soft and warm touch as she brushes the tip of her tongue to the pad of his fingers. Wetting them, letting them sit damp against her lips a moment as she meets his eyes.
Holds to his face still, as she guides his hand down to where they're still joined, shifting them apart just that little to give him the space she wants. Guiding him to touch her the way she likes, and more secret, more quiet, than blackwater and royalty and treason, how little it takes to make her swallow down and sigh in easiness. Slick from how they'd rolled together already, a flush on her skin for a thought, it's been awhile since she'd been such an unashamed mess. A heat that pulls as the shifting of her hips to give him room lets him shift inside of her. ]
I think - aashiq - [ Wets her lips, taking a breath in - english, Lakshmi, english. ] - start there.
[ Hopefully, it was enough of a starting point, could guide as she needed. Her fingers bracing against her wrist like she might her swords. Curving around loose and meticulous. ]
no subject
He sucks in a small breath as Lakshmi wets his fingers. Half-lids his eyes as her tongue meets his fingertips, flutters them lightly in her mouth as her warmth envelops them. An intimate gesture, at least as intimate as what they've already done together. He's glad to be able to return the favor, to shift his other hand down to match her guidance. She won't need to prompt him any more than that; Miles is already quite practiced in using all available options to please the women he's with.
He groans softly as she shifts on top of him, eliciting a flutter of movement from him inside her. Down, boy. He has other priorities. Gently, easily, he slides a finger inside her as his thumb flicks over her clitoris. Careful to keep his touch light at first, until he can gage her reaction, then slowly building in intensity. ]
What does that mean? [ He breathes the words, his attention mostly elsewhere. ] Aashiq?
no subject
Her fingers slip where can't answer him and have him at the same time. Pushes up a little, back, taking a gasp in for air. In turns, languid and stiff as she holds to him. That build that will surely be too much. ]
Lover. [ One burst out word, that she has to force between the soft calls of it like prayers. Silence between the shots. Enfields took such a long time to reload, all fumbling, gripping, clawing, she's fixed in her concentration, a dip between her brows as the previous whole word is swallowed up into another breathless sound, louder, this time. Another hum of gunfire and the way she arches with his name on her lips before she can again. ] It means my lover.
no subject
A beautiful word. [ He lifts his chin so that he can look up at her, his gray eyes bright and warm. Lover. Yes, he likes the sound of that. Because this is what they are doing now, even if it isn't permanent. His blood still sings with more than just the sheer physicality of them. Lover. ] May I use it too?
no subject
Her response at first is to kiss him, tilt to catch his mouth in a mess of a thing, her teeth in his lip, her fingers pressing against his jaw to let her indulge in it. Pressing herself in close, jerked movements of her hips that grow more incessant. But that isn't an answer and she pulls back. ] As often as you like.
no subject
[ His pronunciation isn't perfect, but he speaks the word reverently. Laying it at her feet like an offering, in thanks for that kiss she'd granted him. His lips still seem to burn where her teeth had grazed him. He lowers his own lips to mouth at the point between her breasts. Gentle and soft even as his fingers begin to move in earnest, deepening inside of her. ]
Aashiq, [ he murmurs again, breathing the word into her skin. Chased by a small gasp as she clenches him tight. He wants - he needs again, so very much. He jolts his own hips lightly, careful not to interfere with his finger positioning. Just a bit more to add to their motion, to deepen the sensations he's building inside of her. ]
no subject
Hears it again and every part of her curls. Finds him in hands and lips and clawing digging motions to hold to him. The rock of her hips hard, not so much in taking contro of him, but losing it of herself. Trying to take as much as she can as her eyes shut tightly because it might be too much, to look at him pouring over her like she's something he wants so much, to be solid and not ash. Sinks her hips down harder against his fingers, the friction maddening in her skin. Should be careful with him, should be quiet, does neither. Carves that word into his back as her nails draw down his back, across his hips, moans low and heavy. Her leg tense where it's hooked against him, all sharp muscles, pulling in and close as she comes in a thready gasp that doesn't let her breath in or out. The same word back to him, amidst the others, aashiq, aashiq, aashiq. All falling apart and coming together at once around him as she sinks down to have him, as much of him as she can, inside of her. ]
no subject
He curls his own hand against her back; his fingers are slick from touching her. Soft in comparison to the sharpness of her nails against him, but Miles sure as hell doesn't mind that. The faint touch of pain just makes him arch his own back a little more. A little pain to make the pleasure taste sweeter, oh yes. More importantly, it's genuine. Her holding on to him so tightly she draws lines along his back. He leans his head against her torso a moment, allowing himself at last to focus more on himself. Faster, harder. More. ]
no subject
It's barely a shift, barely a pull. Wants to give him the leverage to keep rocking into her at that angle, to let him slip as deep into her as he can. Hard at that point where she can't speak, where she just can hold on. A come here that's a half word and the yank of her fingers as she rolls half back to give him leverage, to let her heel dig into the bedroll below them. So she can meet him just the same. Her hand shifting her anchor point lower to grip and yank. Thinks the rest - he's clever, she knows he is, where she can't think, she knows that he will do it enough for them both, that she wants him just like that. ]