nestingdevil: ➥ pantaloons@dreamwidth (♠ } let's strike a bargain and see)
the name's greed ([personal profile] nestingdevil) wrote2013-12-26 10:10 pm

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onemistress: andromedafirethought; dw (pic#6520258)

[personal profile] onemistress 2014-01-14 05:34 pm (UTC)(link)
[ His words were all the incentive she needed -- and not that she needed very much to begin with. Adjusting her hold on him slightly, to hold his hand steady as she kissed his claws, her tongue flicking ever so gently. Teasing, tasting, gauging him and his reactions as she ever did her deals with him.

And really -- this hardly felt like reality, like something she was doing was real when she watched him draw blood and heal himself in the same breath. Stranger than all the priests ever said in their books. At any other time, she'd record it carefully. Be fascinated and appalled in equal measure.

But now? she found it just all to follow one seamless movement, as soon his shoulder was bared, her head dipped, pressing her lips, her teeth and her tongue over where the cut had run. Tasting no blood, at least not until she snatched a kiss off him. But it was fleeting, gone before she'd taken another gasp in. Like he had with her, her teeth found the dip of his neck in the second before he pulled away, settling on the ground again.

Elizabeth is frustrated with him, for a moment, she liked his heat, when it was close. Every bit of hellfire she could have under her palms. But he is a devil -- and he does so torment, or at least she realized in the moment his hand moved. In that, if she had his claws, his teeth, he would be cut to ribbons, the hand braced on his chest sunk in and scratched down. But it was an absent action, and selfish she was, the particulars of him were forgotten as she shuddered and writhed.

All that mattered was having every inch of him, and how hard it was to keep silent if this continued.

Being caught like this would be the death of her, in the end. As much as she might of forgotten all else, she didn't trust the hedge walls and stones to keep this as quiet as she'd like. The cry that came from her was smothered against the back of her hand. Teeth biting into her knuckles, but it still didn't keep it all down. The sound bubbling up and coming free despite her best efforts at each deep movement, rattling it from her. Symptoms of a cause.

It was the riddle of her existence, that it must all be locked up deeply inside of her.
] Greed, they'll -- [ - another cry and her head tipped back, feeling the heat curl in her stomach, gone again in the slide of his cock out and then back in -- ] they'll hear.

[ As much of a warning as she could get out, gasped and panted out. Something like begging or as close as she would ever come to it, in this.

But she would never ask him to stop.
]
onemistress: andromedafirethought; dw (pic#6520258)

[personal profile] onemistress 2014-02-09 05:18 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He was like water, holy to her in her desperation. Her lips finding his and it isn't so much to kiss, but as he offered, a place to smother her cries, emptying them against his lips. Each one of them a mix of words and meanings, taken out of her in short pantings breaths. She forced herself down harder against him, her hands listless running over him, pulling and tugging him at him. Nails raking on his shoulders, feather light on his stomach and grasping at his hair when she needed him to hold still just so. Enough that she could hide the sound of her own lust against his skin.

And she might of laughed -- breathless and stolen in seconds, against his lips. Pulling back only to stare at him in bemusement mixed with all else that fluttered through her.
] Me? Alone? When is a Queen ever truly alone. [ Anger there too, maybe, but gone again in a instant. ]

[ It fits in some way he wouldn't make it easier for her all the same. HIs rough fingers finding exactly what they want on her body like he had been doing this for years. She has the spare second, biting down hard on his shoulder as she cried out louder again. Something that would have been too distinct, too obvious to anyone listening. For him, and only for him. But then, not at all, for herself. She wanted this, wanted to be like any other woman, even if that wasn't strictly true, but she wanted and wanted and wanted. He worked her body over like she was instrument he knew well how to play, and when she kissed him again, he frustration showed. Her legs shaking, clinging to him, and she felt savage and empty and like she was near to drowning.

But not enough, never enough. Her movements speeding up, asking without saying, because her pride would never allow that. It was however acceptable enough to torment him as much as he did her. Finding every part of him to trace over and mark as her own.
]