[ In an instant he is there and she is in his arms, drawn in by calloused hands she has so dearly missed. A surprised noise passes her lips just before he takes them, the familiar feel of his lips steals what air lays in her lungs. She has missed this, she has missed him - she meets him eagerly, desperately, fingers curling amongst his clothes. Body pressed flush, determined to smother the little space that remains.
Changed he has, as has she in her own way, but things still remain. His hands, his mouth, manner of which he sets her heart to race, her breath to fall short. He kisses her with all the viciousness she remembers and she responds, returns it, and drinks it in as desperately as a thirsty man does water. Morgana holds him tight, a hand in his clothes while the other grips the back of his neck, slender fingers sliding into his hair.
She has missed him so. ]
It has. [ Let time cease, let this small space be all that there is. ] Such a long time.
[ He does not pull far from her. His hands set on her shoulders, smoothing over the material of her dress with the soft reverence. The disbelief in his gaze, she - so untouched, by the passage of time that had so worn him. ]
Look at you, [ his fingers sweep up, gentle against her neck, framing against her jaw. ] you have not aged a day.
[ He weighs whether it is something he should be concerned with. That he should question her over it, but he knew she was not of this place. Holy like the carved words of the abbey though she could not be more different to their austere words. ]
And you... [ Oh how it has worn him, corroded edges that still manage to stay sharp. Her hand reaches up, traces the line of his jaw, as a smile sits upon her lips. ] Still so handsome, after all this time.
[ He questions, she knows, somewhere in his mind. But she does not answer, dares not allude. It holds no importance here and now, not with him so close after so long. Allow her this moment, this selfish desire to indulge in his warmth, in the scent of him. ]
I know you have duties, our dear Empress will have need of you. But I would have you stay at my side, do not part from me. I could not bare it.
[ He catches her hand where it settles about his cheek. Warm and soft, it has no business near him, touching him. But he supposes that is not for him to decide, and he turns slightly into it. The brush of rough skin and the course beard that - is better kept, these days. ]
You are too kind.
[ He is not at all young anymore. Had been in the last days of it, when he had known her before, but it was gone from him now. Oh, he could do his duties, he would never falter in that. But he feels it, slow and wearing away like the void does at his soul.
Her words draw him back and - Emily was on her throne, but a few rooms away. His place was at her side but - for now, right now, he could be assured that she was guarded - and well. Cottings, and Alexi both. ]
I can, for a turn. My duties will call me back in time. It does not do for the Lord Protector to be chasing every beautiful woman that comes into court.
[ A selfish creature she is could not be satisfied with only a turn, already she craves more than a turn. Hours, days, weeks. Emily would allow her this, she is sure. Time to take him, to hold him, to whisper gentle words into his ears.
Softly her thumb brushes against his rough skin and course beard, cleaner now, more kept. Not so young anymore, but what counts still remains. As it always has. ]
I do not think a turn will be enough to satisfy me. [ Amusement shines in her eyes. ] Have you been chasing other beautiful women in my absence? If so I ought to have you punished.
[ Words he knows Emily insists he needs to have from time to time. Old man, grizzled because the truth of it is - that he cannot give them anything meaningful. A smile, discussion, even brief moments of affection. But he knows his own story. The parts that matter have already been accounted for.
No less by the woman in front of him now. ]
Is that so? Should I look forward to it? [ He suspects he would, all things considered. But in truth it is good to see her again. ] You should I do not. [ A pause - he is only after all. ] Well, not for a very long time.
[ No one, after all, was a Queen from beyond the void. ]
[ Not so much punishment what she has in mind, what she plans to occur regardless. She is a selfish creature, needy, reunited after so long with the one who caused her blood to pulse again. Surely they will not need him for the next few hours, the Empire will not fall apart today.
( Not today, she thinks distantly images floating like smoke in her mind. Mourning, celebration, blood upon waxed floors, cold marble stone. )
With her fingers she idly traces the line of his jaw, ghosting the beard that has grown there. She must commit this face to memory, etched it into her soul, while she is still able too. ]
No other has warmed your bed? [ Knowing the truth she teases him. ] How cruel you must think me, for leaving so cold for so long.
[ He leans into her hand, the brush against her that is so yearned for. Emily will understand - and all these years later, he can trust his daughter, after what had passed with Zhukov. Rather, he draws against her for a few stolen moments that are all his. ] You are wretched in how you leave me.
[ A turn, the catch of his mouth against her skin is no more than a brush, no more than enough. The pad against at the base of her thumb that he wonders so often, then that she is as soft as she is. Like nothing ever touched her.
[ She will, of course. Their Empress remembers her still, remembers how her presence steady her father all that time ago. Remembers the soft songs she would sing to her as she slept, chasing away the dark shadows of her nightmares. Emily will understand and forgive them this much.
Watching him something in her grows sad, her eye shine with an ageless wisdom. Almost tired from the things she has seen. But she does not think - will not think of them, enveloping herself in him. Corvo, her shadow, her wolf. ]
I shan't do it again. [ Hand slips from his face to be replaced by her lips brushing against the corner of his mouth. ] Become such a wretched thing to part from your side. You who has taken no other, you who care for me still after all these years.
[ She moves to kiss the other side of her mouth then. ]
I do not deserve your affections, nor your forgiveness.
[ He holds still for her, he always did, in the days when he had been a half breadth away from madness, blood-soaked, blood-hungry, starved animal at her feet. She held him through it all, and all that violence was held against her, at her bidding.
Perhaps it is there, now, but by the same measure. ]
You have both. [ He cannot forgive himself much anymore, but he can forgive her. His tilts, his hands slipping to her waist and drawing her into him. Solid warmth against him as he leans to kiss her again. Soft, crueller, he kisses her with the years between, the taste of longing, tinged in worship, in regret, in agony, into her mouth in a sharp breath. The other settled back to her hair to cup the back of her head as he tilts her head up and back. She is such a small things, it felt, at times, for one half as powerful as she is. ]
[ Perhaps it is, just underneath the skin - under all that is calm, courtly, the roles they both have. A hidden blade, a waiting beast, to spring forth when the time calls. When the world he knows turns on itself calling for blood once again.
( He will need it, oh how he will need it. To survive what will come he will need that madness, that violence. )
He silences her with his words, his lips, hands drawing her close as she shifts herself up towards him. It is a cruel kiss in it's softness, years of longing all but wash over her and her heart aches. A wretched thing she is for staying away for so long, for leaving as she did, for wandering too long the paths of the Void. Her arms slide around his neck, pulling her small frame closer still, pressing into the kiss. Her lips hold apologies, pain, longing, the promise of relief, of tenderness. She will not wander again, not for so long or so far from his side. ]
[ He feeds off it, needs of it, his grip does not lesson, his hands do not leave her in their roaming. How the longing festers. Other wounds may heal, and if not, may be cut off. How easy it was to live without these things.
How hard it was to live without her.
He doesn't break it as she presses her back that little bit more. Soft and gentle, worship in how his fingers draw down her side up until intention over rides action when he dips to pick her up. Not for long, not like he needs to stop this to see where he's going. So as his arms hook under her knees and back and scoops her up, straight back to kissing her in the moments breath in. Walking down the corridor without much care to it. ]
[ While parted she did not feel whole, not fully, as though she had left something behind. An ache followed her through the the Void, dull and distant but there, always there. When had he carved out a place for himself in her chest? She could not remember. She knew herself strong enough to live with the ache, a festering wound the absence left. Ever present, building, with no sign of rest.
Now, now she feels whole again. Ache replaced by the warmth of his hands, his course beard, the familiar smell of him, the taste of his lips. All she desired yet in truth do not fully deserve.
She knows his intention as his hands move, grinning as her legs lock around him. Impatient, is he? Though not enough to forgo walking entirely. He returns to kissing her before she is even able to think of a protest, instead she makes a pleased sound. No need to fret, he knows Dunwall Tower better than anyone. So she does not, trusting him to see them safe, and threads a hand through his now much shorter hair. ]
[ It is not a long walk, in truth, enough that he takes his time in kissing her, moving in brief bursts away from her mouth to her jaw, her neck, the spot below her ear. Almost lazy if constant, utter, complete.
Not so long before he's at his own chambers. Far grander than the last time he had drawn her to him. When he had been blood soaked, her drawing a path for him and letting it wash off him and replacing it with the soft of her skin to soak him through. Now he can comfortably kick the door open, not at all worried about what might happen in the meantime. A sweep of his hand behind him and the flare of magic behind him to shut it.
Alone, at last, and he tips her back into the bed. Something worthy of her than a moth ridden thing in the Hound Pits. Setting her onto it, and for a moment, he merely hovers above her. ]
[ Grand enough to remind her of another life, when such things were so familiar to her. Eons ago it was, a memory so faded she can barely see it. For all it's grandeur it is little more than a room draped in velvet and silks, much larger than what he used to have. They could be back there now and she would not care, so long as she had him.
A laugh for the door, a exhale for the flare of magic. Sensitive as she is it sends a shiver down her spine, a soft song echoes on the edge of her hearing for a moment and she holds him tighter. Relenting only as he tips her onto the bed, the soft cushions welcome against her back.
How long has it been since she laid in a real bed? How long has it been since she truly slept? Time is... different the Void and she rarely grew tired. Years, she thinks, it has been years.
She does not allow him to hover for long, a hand reaching out to take hold of the front of his clothes. Taking a tight grip she tugs him towards her, insistent. ]
[ His knee hits the bed, drawing himself over her - a brief brush against her in a gruff curl of laughter that rumbles heavy in the back of his throat. ]
I do not think I could stray from you for all the silver in Karnaca.
[ His pause now is only to shed himself of his vest, his uniform now, a heavy brush of leather that comes undone easily and is discarded as quickly. Leans himself down with it gone, his arm bracing by her head as he holds himself steady over her. His other settling to her waist, warm solid pressure that holds her steady like he might worry she'll vanish into dust and smoke if he lets her go from his sight. ]
Spirits, you're beautiful.
[ Leans, gentle, carefulm nosing against her ear, her cheek, before he kisses her, steady and warm and there. All he needed, for now. ]
[ She watches him shed his vest, resting back down on the bed as he settles over her. She is warm with him there, content, more than she has been in a very long time. It sets her to smile, a hand cupping his cheek her thumb brushing gently across it.
Truly she has missed his face.
Then he calls her beautiful and she cannot help but sigh, arms going around his neck to pull him closer. Her heart flutters for the first time in years, unfamiliar yet not unwelcome feeling. He is hopeless, she thinks, but he is hers. ] Corvo─ [ His name cut off by his lips, words forgotten in favor of it. A hand in his hair she deepens the kiss, part gentleness part fire. Content yet wanting. ]
[ It's a wave of a thing, broken on shore, lips slanting on the shape of her, his body rolling to fit against hers. Steady strength leashed and held above, his weight on his knees and his hands on her hips, as he pulls her up and into him.
Pulls from her mouth to her neck, he is attentive, he always has been, and she is so easy to fix upon. To roam her jaw and throat and shoulder. The jut and dip of bones that sit under the skin that move as part of her. Broad set on her waist, pushing at the material to get it out of his way to what he wants most - the worst and taste of her bare body again his hands and mouth. ]
[ Without thought she arcs into him, his touch. Body like liquid, shifting and melding against him. Greedy for the contact, for his attentiveness that sets her to sigh.
Soft noises pass her lips, a hand curling amidst shorter hair, as the other trails his back. Smoothing down muscles covered fabric, nails dragging back up. Too distracted to pull it from him herself, her hand falls to find his - pushing away her skirts to expose soft, pale flesh. Oh how she wants his hands upon her again, how she wants his mouth again. Mapping her curves in silence worship once again. ]
[ He moves it out of the way, settles himself between her legs where he draws them up against his sides. Heavy set - tall as he is, but he is careful not to weigh down on her. The hand that moves under the heavy material of her skirts - know her from a woman of Dunwall in a moment, know her anyway. Her hair, the sound of her laugh - her eyes so bold and bright they seem almost gold at times when he catches her in the right light.
His head lifts, too many layers - that are in his way and he is so very impatient, at times. Just a man, after all, simple man. ]
[ She's pull him further, closer, legs wrapping around his waist drawing him in. Like a puzzle piece he fits so neatly above her, hand moving under skirts makes her muscles coil and shiver. Blindly she arcs into his touch lips parting in gentle gasps. Knows his hands, the low rumble of his laugh, the way his lips quirk when he smiles. How fondly she had remembered them, how fondly she remembers them now.
Through dark eyes she chuckles, a hand slides from his hair to his cheek. Her poor impatient man. ]
No. [ Her arrival wasn't exactly planned, per say. ] Fret not, I am sure to find something. Emily may have some dressed she can lend me.
[ Which as much warning as she gets in the space between when he pulls up. The folding blade unclasped from his waist, the weapon flicked open in a sharp snap of cold metal as she draws it down, a careful curved movement. He is the best swordsman in the empire and he has never failed to draw blood when he sought it.
Never failed at a task when he set his mind to it.
He is never more determined than now. The tip of the blade catching at the top of her dress, hooking against the bodice and in a hum of void, he slides it down. Just a hair above skin, because his blades would never draw her blood - she and Emily alone would never have to fear him.
All the way down until the dress comes apart in half, all her exposed skin and none of the time he wasn't willing to waste as he pushes it apart and away from her hips. Head dropping immediately to the cradle of her hips, the flat of her stomach, the warmth of her skin to drags his mouth in warmth over skin. In teeth and tongue and lips, the catch of beard against her as he worked his way up her in a roaming determined path. ]
[ She has nothing to fear from him, she never has. The appearance of his blade doesn't even inspire it - her pulse quickens, breathing sharpens. Green eyes widen and darken, blade hovering just above her pale flesh close enough to slice were his hands not so steady. But they are steady and they hum with the void, sending a shiver down her spine, a sigh from her lips. She feels it more now than before, the pull of void magic, singing to every one of her nerves.
It's replaced quickly by him, lips and teeth and tongue, warm against the flat of her stomach. Muscles twitch underneath the warmth of him, the catch on his beard against her. How easily he lights a fire underneath her skin, has her burn for him wanting. A hand finds his hair again nails dragging against flesh as he roams up her, impatience taking a tight hold. ]
Corvo... [ His name leaves her lips in a moan, breathless, body arcing underneath him. He will drive her to madness before the morning comes, of this she is certain. ]
[ He has every intention to it. The strength that comes easily to him - size and weight that makes it easy where she's a slip of a thing. Gets his mouth to her breath, tongue flat to skin and holds fast in heat that is maddening.
Takes advantage of the way she moves. The curve of her spine up and against it, he sets his hands to her skin. Moving his weight onto his knees, settling under her as he pushes up against her lower back to move his head to stomach again, her hips, her thighs. Determined in his paths to cover her over and over again, as long as he can. As long as duty lets him - because she has always been far too indulgent of his wants where she is concerned.
But the way she says his name at least tells him he isn't wasting her time any.
Lower, lower, lower until he comes up between her thighs, his fingers holding her up at the angle, precarious balance in his hands as he lowers to her. The flick and broach of his tongue up between her thighs that's hanging on the call of her voice. Following where she prompts him too, relearning her, or perhaps remembering. ]
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Changed he has, as has she in her own way, but things still remain. His hands, his mouth, manner of which he sets her heart to race, her breath to fall short. He kisses her with all the viciousness she remembers and she responds, returns it, and drinks it in as desperately as a thirsty man does water. Morgana holds him tight, a hand in his clothes while the other grips the back of his neck, slender fingers sliding into his hair.
She has missed him so. ]
It has. [ Let time cease, let this small space be all that there is. ] Such a long time.
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Look at you, [ his fingers sweep up, gentle against her neck, framing against her jaw. ] you have not aged a day.
[ He weighs whether it is something he should be concerned with. That he should question her over it, but he knew she was not of this place. Holy like the carved words of the abbey though she could not be more different to their austere words. ]
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[ He questions, she knows, somewhere in his mind. But she does not answer, dares not allude. It holds no importance here and now, not with him so close after so long. Allow her this moment, this selfish desire to indulge in his warmth, in the scent of him. ]
I know you have duties, our dear Empress will have need of you. But I would have you stay at my side, do not part from me. I could not bare it.
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You are too kind.
[ He is not at all young anymore. Had been in the last days of it, when he had known her before, but it was gone from him now. Oh, he could do his duties, he would never falter in that. But he feels it, slow and wearing away like the void does at his soul.
Her words draw him back and - Emily was on her throne, but a few rooms away. His place was at her side but - for now, right now, he could be assured that she was guarded - and well. Cottings, and Alexi both. ]
I can, for a turn. My duties will call me back in time. It does not do for the Lord Protector to be chasing every beautiful woman that comes into court.
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[ A selfish creature she is could not be satisfied with only a turn, already she craves more than a turn. Hours, days, weeks. Emily would allow her this, she is sure. Time to take him, to hold him, to whisper gentle words into his ears.
Softly her thumb brushes against his rough skin and course beard, cleaner now, more kept. Not so young anymore, but what counts still remains. As it always has. ]
I do not think a turn will be enough to satisfy me. [ Amusement shines in her eyes. ] Have you been chasing other beautiful women in my absence? If so I ought to have you punished.
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No less by the woman in front of him now. ]
Is that so? Should I look forward to it? [ He suspects he would, all things considered. But in truth it is good to see her again. ] You should I do not. [ A pause - he is only after all. ] Well, not for a very long time.
[ No one, after all, was a Queen from beyond the void. ]
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[ Not so much punishment what she has in mind, what she plans to occur regardless. She is a selfish creature, needy, reunited after so long with the one who caused her blood to pulse again. Surely they will not need him for the next few hours, the Empire will not fall apart today.
( Not today, she thinks distantly images floating like smoke in her mind. Mourning, celebration, blood upon waxed floors, cold marble stone. )
With her fingers she idly traces the line of his jaw, ghosting the beard that has grown there. She must commit this face to memory, etched it into her soul, while she is still able too. ]
No other has warmed your bed? [ Knowing the truth she teases him. ] How cruel you must think me, for leaving so cold for so long.
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[ He leans into her hand, the brush against her that is so yearned for. Emily will understand - and all these years later, he can trust his daughter, after what had passed with Zhukov. Rather, he draws against her for a few stolen moments that are all his. ] You are wretched in how you leave me.
[ A turn, the catch of his mouth against her skin is no more than a brush, no more than enough. The pad against at the base of her thumb that he wonders so often, then that she is as soft as she is. Like nothing ever touched her.
Perhaps, that is what makes her safe to him. ]
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Watching him something in her grows sad, her eye shine with an ageless wisdom. Almost tired from the things she has seen. But she does not think - will not think of them, enveloping herself in him. Corvo, her shadow, her wolf. ]
I shan't do it again. [ Hand slips from his face to be replaced by her lips brushing against the corner of his mouth. ] Become such a wretched thing to part from your side. You who has taken no other, you who care for me still after all these years.
[ She moves to kiss the other side of her mouth then. ]
I do not deserve your affections, nor your forgiveness.
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Perhaps it is there, now, but by the same measure. ]
You have both. [ He cannot forgive himself much anymore, but he can forgive her. His tilts, his hands slipping to her waist and drawing her into him. Solid warmth against him as he leans to kiss her again. Soft, crueller, he kisses her with the years between, the taste of longing, tinged in worship, in regret, in agony, into her mouth in a sharp breath. The other settled back to her hair to cup the back of her head as he tilts her head up and back. She is such a small things, it felt, at times, for one half as powerful as she is. ]
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( He will need it, oh how he will need it. To survive what will come he will need that madness, that violence. )
He silences her with his words, his lips, hands drawing her close as she shifts herself up towards him. It is a cruel kiss in it's softness, years of longing all but wash over her and her heart aches. A wretched thing she is for staying away for so long, for leaving as she did, for wandering too long the paths of the Void. Her arms slide around his neck, pulling her small frame closer still, pressing into the kiss. Her lips hold apologies, pain, longing, the promise of relief, of tenderness. She will not wander again, not for so long or so far from his side. ]
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How hard it was to live without her.
He doesn't break it as she presses her back that little bit more. Soft and gentle, worship in how his fingers draw down her side up until intention over rides action when he dips to pick her up. Not for long, not like he needs to stop this to see where he's going. So as his arms hook under her knees and back and scoops her up, straight back to kissing her in the moments breath in. Walking down the corridor without much care to it. ]
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Now, now she feels whole again. Ache replaced by the warmth of his hands, his course beard, the familiar smell of him, the taste of his lips. All she desired yet in truth do not fully deserve.
She knows his intention as his hands move, grinning as her legs lock around him. Impatient, is he? Though not enough to forgo walking entirely. He returns to kissing her before she is even able to think of a protest, instead she makes a pleased sound. No need to fret, he knows Dunwall Tower better than anyone. So she does not, trusting him to see them safe, and threads a hand through his now much shorter hair. ]
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Not so long before he's at his own chambers. Far grander than the last time he had drawn her to him. When he had been blood soaked, her drawing a path for him and letting it wash off him and replacing it with the soft of her skin to soak him through. Now he can comfortably kick the door open, not at all worried about what might happen in the meantime. A sweep of his hand behind him and the flare of magic behind him to shut it.
Alone, at last, and he tips her back into the bed. Something worthy of her than a moth ridden thing in the Hound Pits. Setting her onto it, and for a moment, he merely hovers above her. ]
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A laugh for the door, a exhale for the flare of magic. Sensitive as she is it sends a shiver down her spine, a soft song echoes on the edge of her hearing for a moment and she holds him tighter. Relenting only as he tips her onto the bed, the soft cushions welcome against her back.
How long has it been since she laid in a real bed? How long has it been since she truly slept? Time is... different the Void and she rarely grew tired. Years, she thinks, it has been years.
She does not allow him to hover for long, a hand reaching out to take hold of the front of his clothes. Taking a tight grip she tugs him towards her, insistent. ]
Come here, love.
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I do not think I could stray from you for all the silver in Karnaca.
[ His pause now is only to shed himself of his vest, his uniform now, a heavy brush of leather that comes undone easily and is discarded as quickly. Leans himself down with it gone, his arm bracing by her head as he holds himself steady over her. His other settling to her waist, warm solid pressure that holds her steady like he might worry she'll vanish into dust and smoke if he lets her go from his sight. ]
Spirits, you're beautiful.
[ Leans, gentle, carefulm nosing against her ear, her cheek, before he kisses her, steady and warm and there. All he needed, for now. ]
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[ She watches him shed his vest, resting back down on the bed as he settles over her. She is warm with him there, content, more than she has been in a very long time. It sets her to smile, a hand cupping his cheek her thumb brushing gently across it.
Truly she has missed his face.
Then he calls her beautiful and she cannot help but sigh, arms going around his neck to pull him closer. Her heart flutters for the first time in years, unfamiliar yet not unwelcome feeling. He is hopeless, she thinks, but he is hers. ] Corvo─ [ His name cut off by his lips, words forgotten in favor of it. A hand in his hair she deepens the kiss, part gentleness part fire. Content yet wanting. ]
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Pulls from her mouth to her neck, he is attentive, he always has been, and she is so easy to fix upon. To roam her jaw and throat and shoulder. The jut and dip of bones that sit under the skin that move as part of her. Broad set on her waist, pushing at the material to get it out of his way to what he wants most - the worst and taste of her bare body again his hands and mouth. ]
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Soft noises pass her lips, a hand curling amidst shorter hair, as the other trails his back. Smoothing down muscles covered fabric, nails dragging back up. Too distracted to pull it from him herself, her hand falls to find his - pushing away her skirts to expose soft, pale flesh. Oh how she wants his hands upon her again, how she wants his mouth again. Mapping her curves in silence worship once again. ]
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His head lifts, too many layers - that are in his way and he is so very impatient, at times. Just a man, after all, simple man. ]
Do you have other garments?
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Through dark eyes she chuckles, a hand slides from his hair to his cheek. Her poor impatient man. ]
No. [ Her arrival wasn't exactly planned, per say. ] Fret not, I am sure to find something. Emily may have some dressed she can lend me.
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[ Which as much warning as she gets in the space between when he pulls up. The folding blade unclasped from his waist, the weapon flicked open in a sharp snap of cold metal as she draws it down, a careful curved movement. He is the best swordsman in the empire and he has never failed to draw blood when he sought it.
Never failed at a task when he set his mind to it.
He is never more determined than now. The tip of the blade catching at the top of her dress, hooking against the bodice and in a hum of void, he slides it down. Just a hair above skin, because his blades would never draw her blood - she and Emily alone would never have to fear him.
All the way down until the dress comes apart in half, all her exposed skin and none of the time he wasn't willing to waste as he pushes it apart and away from her hips. Head dropping immediately to the cradle of her hips, the flat of her stomach, the warmth of her skin to drags his mouth in warmth over skin. In teeth and tongue and lips, the catch of beard against her as he worked his way up her in a roaming determined path. ]
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It's replaced quickly by him, lips and teeth and tongue, warm against the flat of her stomach. Muscles twitch underneath the warmth of him, the catch on his beard against her. How easily he lights a fire underneath her skin, has her burn for him wanting. A hand finds his hair again nails dragging against flesh as he roams up her, impatience taking a tight hold. ]
Corvo... [ His name leaves her lips in a moan, breathless, body arcing underneath him. He will drive her to madness before the morning comes, of this she is certain. ]
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Takes advantage of the way she moves. The curve of her spine up and against it, he sets his hands to her skin. Moving his weight onto his knees, settling under her as he pushes up against her lower back to move his head to stomach again, her hips, her thighs. Determined in his paths to cover her over and over again, as long as he can. As long as duty lets him - because she has always been far too indulgent of his wants where she is concerned.
But the way she says his name at least tells him he isn't wasting her time any.
Lower, lower, lower until he comes up between her thighs, his fingers holding her up at the angle, precarious balance in his hands as he lowers to her. The flick and broach of his tongue up between her thighs that's hanging on the call of her voice. Following where she prompts him too, relearning her, or perhaps remembering. ]