[Flood House has a few more residents now than it did the last time she brought Duk'tak home, and Vierna ushers him quickly down to the shrine room once they're inside. Perhaps later they can socialize with her housemates, if anyone's around - but for the moment, he'd suggested privacy and she's thoroughly in agreement.
She grins at him, her smile bright in her dark face, as she closes the door of the shrine room behind them.] Better?
[He breathed the word, the heat of it close to her skin as he crowded her, not daring to - to initiate, but keeping contact between them, making himself as available and inviting as he can. He doesn't feel at his most appealing, still beaded with sweat from his workout, but - he had noticed that she didn't seem to mind.]
I am yours, my priestess. Here, or anywhere, and always.
Mine. [- she agrees, as much to hear herself affirm it as to assure him. It still feels... right, but unexpected, with all of the other little indignities and disasters that this place throws at them, to have him come so willingly, so eagerly to her.
She puts her hands on his hips and pulls him closer to her, tilting her head up to kiss him again.]
[He kisses back, shivering still at the sound of her claim in his ears, demure and submissive and body singing like a taut wire with tension and hunger oh-so-carefully restrained.
He is hers, and exults in being hers, and she gets to determine what that means... but here in the dimness with her hands on his hips, he most certainly has notions.]
[Her hands wander, seeking out fastenings to his armor that are a little more familiar now, though still new enough that her fingers are a little clumsy on them - especially with her attention divided.
When she comes up for air, it's with a frustrated little laugh, tugging on a problematic strap.] I think you'll need to do the rest. Your armor is a bit too effective.
[He looks steadily into her eyes as he reaches down to unfasten it, strap by strap, and let it slip to the floor, leaving him in only the bare linens around his waist that cushion between the armor and his skin.]
If I make myself vulnerable, my priestess, will you protect me?
[His gaze stays on hers, the words quiet but emphatic. Being vulnerable for her - being protected by her - both are notions with storms of meaning beneath the simple syllables. He feels like he aches all over, at just the momentary absence of her touch.]
[She's set aside her cloak; underneath, she's wearing the shirt and trousers she'd taken from the chest of spare clothing some time back. It's simple enough to unfasten the trousers and step out of them, although before she gets as far as the shirt, she is... distracted.]
You are precious to me, and I take care of what is mine. [If there were any challenge in his gaze, she thinks it would be too much to bear; as it is, he is intoxicating. She smiles and draws him closer again, touching warm skin now and not inanimate leather.] Be at ease, my Duk'tak. I will strike down anyone who dares to intrude.
[The quiet husk of his voice still makes it more a declaration of dogma than anything as simple as agreement. He breathes slow and deep, leaning against her arm, shifting it just a little so that he can press kisses, one by one, to her fingertips.]
It is, so, a relief, you know. To be yours.
[With his other hand, he lifts a corner of her shirt, simply placing his palm against her hip, his fingers very careful not to wander or presume further without permission.]
[Her hand rest lightly over his, guiding it up under her shirt. Her other hand strays from his mouth - across his throat, up the side of his neck, into his hair, carefully avoiding the markings on his jaw as she traces the lines of him.]
[With quiet vehemence, he promises his obedience, and follows upward as her hand guides, breathing - sighing - lightly at her own wandering touch.
Unless she guides him otherwise, his hand will move to her chest, fingertips skimming lightly over the skin, his eyes wide, as he slowly moves closer, closer, body bumping against hers, conscious of just how obvious his body feels right now through his last wraps.
But if he is to be demonstrative... he'll begin, slowly, to lower himself to his knees, looking up at her.]
[She presses herself into his touch, the skin of her torso smooth and unmarred, gasping slightly as his wandering hand brushes against a rising nipple.
Her hand stays in his hair as he goes to his knees, her fingers entwined in pale waves and fingertips brushing against the shaved portion of his scalp in a grasp that would be guiding if not for the fact that they seem to be in perfect agreement as to where he's going.]
Eager - [She laughs, fondly, appreciatively. She shifts her weight, thighs parting slightly.] Prepare me, and I'll sheathe you within me, my weapon.
[He breathes on her skin as he murmurs his response like a prayer. He nuzzles the insides of her thighs gently, playfully. His arms hold her steady - one curled around the back of her thighs, the other still reaching up along the line of her body to tease that peaked nipple.
Then it's more than breath, as he presses his face closer and draws his tongue across her, soft and eager.
He hopes she has little cause to reflect that the motion is familiar to him, from his newest memories, but that thought is fleeting even for him, as he's anchored in the moment and its warm reality, shifting himself further down as her continues, so she can straddle him if she wishes, or simply continue to stand or lean and let him tease her one patient stroke at a time.]
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Afternoon/Night 8, Flood House
[Flood House has a few more residents now than it did the last time she brought Duk'tak home, and Vierna ushers him quickly down to the shrine room once they're inside. Perhaps later they can socialize with her housemates, if anyone's around - but for the moment, he'd suggested privacy and she's thoroughly in agreement.
She grins at him, her smile bright in her dark face, as she closes the door of the shrine room behind them.] Better?
no subject
[He breathed the word, the heat of it close to her skin as he crowded her, not daring to - to initiate, but keeping contact between them, making himself as available and inviting as he can. He doesn't feel at his most appealing, still beaded with sweat from his workout, but - he had noticed that she didn't seem to mind.]
I am yours, my priestess. Here, or anywhere, and always.
no subject
She puts her hands on his hips and pulls him closer to her, tilting her head up to kiss him again.]
/guiltily months later...
He is hers, and exults in being hers, and she gets to determine what that means... but here in the dimness with her hands on his hips, he most certainly has notions.]
no subject
When she comes up for air, it's with a frustrated little laugh, tugging on a problematic strap.] I think you'll need to do the rest. Your armor is a bit too effective.
no subject
[He looks steadily into her eyes as he reaches down to unfasten it, strap by strap, and let it slip to the floor, leaving him in only the bare linens around his waist that cushion between the armor and his skin.]
If I make myself vulnerable, my priestess, will you protect me?
[His gaze stays on hers, the words quiet but emphatic. Being vulnerable for her - being protected by her - both are notions with storms of meaning beneath the simple syllables. He feels like he aches all over, at just the momentary absence of her touch.]
no subject
[She's set aside her cloak; underneath, she's wearing the shirt and trousers she'd taken from the chest of spare clothing some time back. It's simple enough to unfasten the trousers and step out of them, although before she gets as far as the shirt, she is... distracted.]
You are precious to me, and I take care of what is mine.
[If there were any challenge in his gaze, she thinks it would be too much to bear; as it is, he is intoxicating. She smiles and draws him closer again, touching warm skin now and not inanimate leather.] Be at ease, my Duk'tak. I will strike down anyone who dares to intrude.
no subject
[The quiet husk of his voice still makes it more a declaration of dogma than anything as simple as agreement. He breathes slow and deep, leaning against her arm, shifting it just a little so that he can press kisses, one by one, to her fingertips.]
It is, so, a relief, you know. To be yours.
[With his other hand, he lifts a corner of her shirt, simply placing his palm against her hip, his fingers very careful not to wander or presume further without permission.]
no subject
Show me, then.
no subject
[With quiet vehemence, he promises his obedience, and follows upward as her hand guides, breathing - sighing - lightly at her own wandering touch.
Unless she guides him otherwise, his hand will move to her chest, fingertips skimming lightly over the skin, his eyes wide, as he slowly moves closer, closer, body bumping against hers, conscious of just how obvious his body feels right now through his last wraps.
But if he is to be demonstrative... he'll begin, slowly, to lower himself to his knees, looking up at her.]
no subject
Her hand stays in his hair as he goes to his knees, her fingers entwined in pale waves and fingertips brushing against the shaved portion of his scalp in a grasp that would be guiding if not for the fact that they seem to be in perfect agreement as to where he's going.]
Eager - [She laughs, fondly, appreciatively. She shifts her weight, thighs parting slightly.] Prepare me, and I'll sheathe you within me, my weapon.
no subject
[He breathes on her skin as he murmurs his response like a prayer. He nuzzles the insides of her thighs gently, playfully. His arms hold her steady - one curled around the back of her thighs, the other still reaching up along the line of her body to tease that peaked nipple.
Then it's more than breath, as he presses his face closer and draws his tongue across her, soft and eager.
He hopes she has little cause to reflect that the motion is familiar to him, from his newest memories, but that thought is fleeting even for him, as he's anchored in the moment and its warm reality, shifting himself further down as her continues, so she can straddle him if she wishes, or simply continue to stand or lean and let him tease her one patient stroke at a time.]