[ He was a constant she could hang onto. Though she might push him away as often as she pulled him back to her. Too temperamental by half, most times. Greedy, and the thought of that, that irony, brought a smile to her lips. Truer than any she had given a courtier in days, and not half as cruel. ]
[ His hands were far too distracting to tell him what she found so amusing, because there was no way she couldn't feel where they trailed. She wonders what he's doing, at least until all the air was forced out in a gasp. Half his name said in surprise, ( and like this, she'd agree, there was no reason to call him by a title ), and then she couldn't get air back, not between the way the laces pulled so tightly. Panting soft, shallow breaths at his neck, as he bit at hers. ]
[ In the end, it didn't matter though. The thought was clear as spanish glass, he was hers, for awhile, as much as she was his. If he let go of her, she'd tumble and fall, she was sure of that much, because she could not be sure of herself at the moment. Needing someone so much, wanting more than was dignified ought to have scared her still. But she couldn't muster enough feeling to care, because nothing else would come, except the soft moan she muffled against his shoulder, a stifled gasp more than anything else. Blood rushed and pounded and she could hardly care, if it meant he kept touching her. ]
[Name on the lips and it's like a confession; a shedding of the sin to the sinner and Greed spreads his thighs. Motions to the dip, his body following with the stretch of his legs; anchoring him half way down her front, leaving her with a part.]
[But it's only for a moment.]
[Because while a hitched-breath is nice, freedom is oh so sweeter. And his mouth opens, spreading tooth for tooth with a hiss of inhale. The last breath of the poisonous before fangs take lace. Shred with a yank of his skull, with the side jerk of his jaws. Snapping to pieces, an animal by any other definition.]
[But there's something more than that; something past carnal urges, past instinct and Greed catches the ribbons with a slow release. Lips dropping as gingerly as a mother to its den of kin and he swipes the collection away. Open to the palm of his hand, disappearing backwards.]
Easy, lovely. No need to hurt yourself on my account.
[It's like the moon is reflected in those eyes; ghostly appeal to the color of purple. Rich and foreboding, dangerous and deadly. Everything he is all out in the open and it's the honesty he's always promised. No hint of the truth flipped, no mask to hide his intentions. The cards out and he's never had the best of poker faces.]
[Smile far too wide, grin far too menacing. The constant drum of it, even when circumstances were less than ideal.]
[But she's right, though. Hot as a Spanish summer and someone, somewhere, could have written for it. Could have predicted this long ago; that the warm-cool touch would summon him to her. When all the lights had gone out, when everything seemed so lost. Hand stretched, a beckoning: as if he had every solution, every fix.]
[For a price, of course.]
[Muscle tenses as he moves to stand. Swiping like ink to the canvas, drawing with every inch, every second passing an eternity. Until he's got his face back to her own and a thick knuckle pushes between the smallest opening at her corset. The strips of lace still holding until a prod snaps and an index hooks in. Similar to a fishing lore at the gaping mouth and he's willing to give her a bit of air.]
Anything you want - after all, it's not like I'm about to judge you, hmn? [Greed says with a tilt. Sending his sunglasses back over his eyes, sinking those purples away to the watery-black. Back to hollow sockets and his smile stretches.]
[ She could breath again, suck in deep and feel it flood her body as he let her out of the tight grip her dress had on her.
-- And oh she'd had a hundred men kneel before, pay homage to her like she was some altar. It's fitting that it should mimic that, twisted by intentions as it should be. With him, it is always twisted.
All the same, her smile is hazy as she looks down at him. With more affection as her fingers traced up and down his neck. Her blues eyes dark, with something else than just contentment though. Her lips dark from kissing him. And best that they did this in the night, where secrets could be kept. For so much as she would have to go past guards and her ladies, and the little hints of lust then, would be too much in the day. ]
[ All the same he stood, his request an obvious one. Not surprised so much that he'd asked, because a woman's clothes were more complicated than most liked to deal with -- thus her ladies and her maids.
So she laughed, breathing and light, for she felt that easy enough as her fingers went to her bodice, sliding the already loosened laces apart further.
In the end, she's glad she had worn something simple, something that when she lifted her hands to her shoulders, slipped down easily enough. Not that she looked at herself, but rather kept her eyes on him, using the heat she found there in his gaze to keep her going when the cool night air hit exposed skin. Nervous as she might feel, her pride would come first, and she titled her head up, even as her skirts pooled at her feet.
Her long red hair falling down was enough to cover her. He wanted truth, and he would have it. This was as bare as she could be, in the end. Nothing to hide behind, not now. ]
Well? [ Though she wasn't sure of the question she was asking. If he still found her desirable, still found her something -- to feel such need for. To possess for awhile. Or if he was just going to leave her standing here like a fool. ]
[It's communication with the slip of lace; like rope to a line being released and there's only the horizon to grasp. A million possibilities laid out on the distant line and when she laughs, the Sin's jaws whirl to a curve. Finding arrows at the ends of his lips and he opens his palm with a deafening sort of sound. Similar to a sword drawn and there's his second set.]
[Claws too black, following the pitch. Cold-hard carbon that makes the points of his nails thinner, sharper and it's a set of talons. Wrapped in something difficult to break and it's not as if he's about to let her handle everything on her own. That wouldn't be fair and since the evening has been rather tipped on his scale, he's not beneath a favor returned.]
[A jerk of the wrist sends them out. Cat-claws to scratch and he pops the remaining ribbons as the corset falls down. As the skeletal structure widens with the descent and it's wires to the pull. To fray under the pressure, snapping with every release of fabric.]
[But his smile is slightly warm to the question that comes: "Well?" Well, what. As if she expected him to stop and he barks. Loud enough, thunder to crack against his rib-cage, to echo back down into his wicked pit and Greed peels clothing away. From her back and out, only to be dropped in the collection and toed away.]
What? Did you expect me to say no? [The Sin teases, hiss of his voice the flavor of bones-rattling and claws snake up. The faintest touch of light igniting the smoothness, making tips shine as he hooks the nose-piece of his shades. Pulling them away, allowing her to take a glance. To see what's been staring back all this time.]
[They're made with the intention of a viper; with the instinct of something more and slit pupils dilate. Knock like ping-pongs, vibrating as they try to figure out whether to thin or thicken. Whether to stay put and Greed coils around. Slides his claws down her back, making them hop, skip, and jump where he found the proverbial speed bumps.]
Do you even remember who you're talking to, lovely? The name is Greed, after all.
You could. [ As his hands went to her bare skin, her own settled on his hip, fingers splayed wide as she ran her hand up -- and he teased her with his words. That he would leave her standing here, naked and wanting in the moonlight.
But she didn't think so.
Even so, she couldn't help tease. Her cool fingers slipping under his shirt, running circles, her lips finding his neck once more and marking skin in short little bites. ] You could leave me here, more fool me. What use would a devil have of me?
[ Though the sight of his two black claws where the hands that caressed her so sent a fever sick thrill down her spine as those talons trace down. They could so easily slit her throat. Like this, she was nothing but soft skin. Defenceless. ( and wasn't that why she so often said no? )
But he was a devil, after all and she had the proof of it now, pressed against her body. Her shoulders tensed for a moment, when all he did was tease her again, she let the fear slip away, her head rolling back as she took the time to enjoy it. God damn her all the same.
Still, when she looked back at him, the amusement was still there. ] Many a man is made of greed, and more than one of them has undressed a woman to find her displeasing to his eyes and not worth having after all.
Don't mistake me for someone else, Elizabeth. I'm not like the rest.
[Night-life from his fingertips; to chase down her back, mapping each knot of her spine. Each break of the bone at the smooth side of his claws, the parting of them bringing knuckles back and he jerks his head to line it up with the side of her own. Touching temple to temple, the best way to pay homage.]
[She's right; the description suitable and he's thought about it before. Hell out of his grasp, but he imagines that's where they're really come from. Out of the void and into flesh, birthed by bad blood and Greed breathes into the shelf of her ear when fingers go under his shirt. Skating across muscle and a mild retreat takes hold. Tattooed-palm now painted black, hitching brown fabric to rip it over his head. Shivering the spikes of his hair, a nest of quills and it's like a porcupine poised. Ready to shoot off, only to still when the threat's long passed.]
[And knuckle to knuckle, it falls. Dribbling, the last form of payment, all debts settled. Red to the skin and the same odd lines mark him. They're hot to the touch, the cruel fire she's accused him of being from in every-inch.] Many a man, sure. But remember - I'm not really human.
[The opposite; the basic concept of a human-born illness and he's the disease. Noxious in every flavor, sick with every breath. Poison to the weary and as he brings his lips back to her neck, that free hand shoots out. Jerk-motion of his arm sending his collection of leather bands flinging back. As he gingerly slides a nail down the curve of her hip, down the bump of her backside.]
[All the while, with teeth at the bend of her neck and the Sin hovers his points over a beating-jugular. Letting her pulse vibrate with his own, letting her feel just what sort of monster he really was. 'Shield sliding and smoothing, a tale written on never-ending parchment. A story with no happy ending and Greed hums. Moving in to smother, to drag claws across skin, to rock his hips against her own. A horrible tide coming into shore, bringing with it all the terrible remains.]
[But he's not here to harm or hurt; not here to leave her cold, with only the bitter memories to stale her tongue. No - he's here for far more and as he beckons her into his arms, he's tipping her. Just slightly, so that for once?]
[She can have someone else lift that weight away; someone else to shoulder the burden of those aching feet.]
[Greed opens his jaws slightly, a hiss to caress her skin.] And anyone who would say no to this would be stupid, lovely.
[ The second his chest is bared, she makes no hesitation to touch him. To slide her fingers across his skin, to run trace the lines that mark him so different to others. Ravenous in a way she had not been in so long. How court would laugh and be shocked, if they saw her such, her hands soft and rough in equal measure. Shivering as he breathed her in, feeling every breath of his, like it was taking something out of her. Leaving her empty and desperate to take back whatever it was he seemed to take her that left her so wanting.
She murmured it back to him, indistinct perhaps, a mixture of languages because one did not seem enough to describe. But it amounted to the same meaning, breathed against him, over and over with kisses pressed to his skin. ( I want you, I want you. ) ]
You shall not disappoint me, as all men do.
[ A ultimatum, a surety that he would never let her fall. Because this was nothing like what they offered. There was no politics, no cold words disguised as pretty sonnets, no false intentions held by expectations that had to be met. There was just a brutal, encompassing need, and he could not fail her in it, not as they did. They who could not warm her, soothe her, could not give her this truth -- and more base than that, when he rolled against her and she gasped again. Not this time, for air stolen from her, but with the heat that was like canon fire. Her nails raked down his back with viciousness that was not expected from a lady, but expected from a Queen.
With one hand, she could rule, and with the other, she would conquer.
Strange thing it is to be held and still keep her pride, but she would never waste a opportunity. Her leg slid so carefully up his side, forcing to press every intimate part of herself to him. Arms about his shoulders, as she steals a kiss again so briefly. ] Then do not waste me.
[ Her eyes still bright and her lips she knew, stained darker from kissing him. ]
[He's not gifted to the art of language and for a moment or two, his eyebrow raises as she speaks. Winding different noises from her mouth, though it's all too clear when her kisses trail and press. Easy enough to follow and he reads between the lines. The art of it lost to translation, but there's a mutual understanding.]
[They've been doing this too long for it not to come to this; each circling one another, two different harmonies finding a similar pulse and when her nails rake down, his dig in. A waltz all on its very own and he follows her two-step with a three-step. Scratches when she bites, kissing when she begs.]
[She's a ruler and she's made for it. Despite any calls to the contrary and she's right for the crown. But he's not interested in that, oh no. Being a ruler of a country is fine, but being king of the world?]
[That's something else entirely.]
[Her kiss keeps him silent, at least for a while. And as he lowers her to the ground below, he quickly moves to engulf her. Fire to the trail of gunpowder and she lit the match a long time ago. Months prior, when there were others to contend with and she had politely said no, in all manner of speaking.]
I don't plan to - I'm just not that kind of guy.
[When her back finds a solid surface, his claws retract. Instead, to smooth up her leg - jerking it without need of permission this time. Folding it to his back, running it along the jut of his hips, his torso. Melding the two together as his lips meet hers again. Shoving against them, dragging the points of his teeth to stain a darker color. Not to draw blood, of course. But to make them puffy and raw; to toss the curtain back and let her be her for once in her life.]
[Because avarice has no room for lies, no room for petty gestures. Sonnets and songs left to better men - or worse. But Greed didn't need them. Didn't want them. Complications of the court not his forte and he prefers things a bit finer, a bit more open. The underbelly of the world and that's where his kingdom truly lies. On the rough backside of bruised knuckles and terrible grins.]
[The 'Shield threatens to make her nails bounce as it shifts. The fluttering a wicked base-drum, sliding up and down. As if he's giving her the next taste of it and Greed lines his nails up with the inside of her thigh. Sliding back, dragging those deadly points to softer flesh. Chasing lines to a hint of red.]
[ Months ago, it had been different, though like this, now, she wondered how she'd kept him at bay so long. Now she felt mad, possessed with some kind of lunacy as she tried to press against him as much as she could.
The moment she settled against the earth, her back arched, her chest rising up, her hands stretched above her head, to give him the space to move his hands. Indulgent, as her leg was drawn around him. Hair sprawled about her head and she craved every way he touched her. A guiltless moan slipping her lips before she could bite down on it.
With her eyes closed, for the time being at least, she could enjoy every place his trailed over. His warmth was a comfortable one, between her legs, and she held him there, shivering as his claws trailed up. Almost too harsh on skin too soft, that had not been touched...
... well longer than was to be considered, either way, it made her frown in concentration, pausing in a breath drawn in. Desperate for something he was taking so long to give her. The next buck of her hips was so much more impatient.
God it felt glorious, to have want and wanting so free, rolling over the surface of her like a wave. ]
Since you asked, my love. [ She used the way her legs were wrapped around him as leverage before she rolled them back. The smirk slipping onto her lips was of pure satisfaction as her hands brace on his chest. A mock lovers tone, because they weren't any kind of sweetheart that poets wrote of. They were crueler, more vain, and more free than anything so simplistic, than that. The smugness and pride settled over her like hair did as it fell about her shoulders.
Smug like she had the finest stallion between her legs, and she had every intent to ride him. Her body more than accustomed to the roll of hips that went with it, all that power under her, like she felt the hundred times she'd ridden. She dipped her body over him, fitting herself against him, her knees either side of his hips and she took her time. Wondering from his lips, to his neck, and she bit like she intended to mark, teeth pulling until she hoped it stung.
Then further down she slipped, along the curious fire hot lines that marked him out from any other man. Her fingertips pressed against the bones of his hips, holding him still as she pressed warm open mouthed kisses to the dip of skin and bone. Not so rough as the ones that preceded it, she took her time. Dragging each kiss out as long as she could, before leaving another and another, a trail from one side to the other. Letters on a manuscript muttered in French and breathed out into him.
It was only after she was done, that she pulled herself back up, pressing her breasts flat against his chest as she lay against him once more. The same smug grin there, pleased with herself. ]
[When the world spins, it's to the tune of his laughter. Barking out to the moon and a creep of air escapes him. Like a puff of smoking from the gaping pit, his skull finding the cool touch of grass as she takes the reins and pulls.]
[Maybe in this situation, he is the prized horse. After months of trying and she's seizing the moment. To ride, to try to break him, and with the roll of her hips, he bucks to meet. As if he's threatening to send it right off, but it couldn't be further from the truth.]
[Elizabeth has always been similar to the kind of fighters he quickly got to know before. When he was stripped down and thrown into another vessel and their ways had been odd. Foreign like the language she speaks, a means to distract with one hand while the other was coming on quick with a blade. To kill with a hidden blow and all of her movements hark to the same.]
[Thankfully, he's not one easily surprised and when she makes kisses down those lines, he raises the temperature. Lets that unnatural heat flare in his arrays and they're similar to the red-hot stroke of a forge. To glisten in intricacies of a blade, to make it unique with the craftsman's own mark.]
Oh-? Didn't think you had it in you, lovely.
[Greed's not one to leave a deal without striking one of his own and claws meet when her breasts press against his chest. Shoving her up with another jerk of his hips, giving only a couple of seconds. Though, he's fast. Enough to settle a knee between spread legs, to let her ride out a thigh as he grinds it against her. Leather to naked flesh, the pool of fabric around them becoming more dense.]
[He takes a moment, though. To show off his collection of knives, slicing through the peeled-off remains. Letting cloth shutter and rip with ease before a palm comes out. To grip one of her wandering hands by the wrist, jerking it above his own skull. Forcing fingers to the spikes of his hair, every sharp point of him at her beck and all.]
[Greed pins it there and sure, it's an awkward angle. But it makes for a slippery slope and as his heels dig into the ground, he's sliding under her. Washing beneath her until her chest is at the mercy of his mouth and the Sin takes in an exposed nipple. Tugging it oh-so-gently between his teeth, tracing the round of it with an ear-tipped.]
[Because he wants to really hear it; everything she has to offer and he'll gladly take it all.]
[ It made her laugh, dry and deep from the back of her throat, cruel and for that, callous. ] Most don't. [ And they'd stood in horror when she killed as many as stood against her with a cold dismissive hand.
But she did not think Greed would shrink from her, for her cruelty. She was in good company. She regretted killing, but she'd never regret being strong. She did this in live defiance of them, of it all. She would be a woman and a Queen and she would lust as much as she reigned with ice in her voice. But the former would be his secret, in the end. And hers.
The press of his leg between hers, was enough to bring another gasp from her, a soft note to join the music between them. Her voice soft, an almost whine as she ground back against him. Wanting more than just that, but it seemed all he was willing to give her. The raw emptiness inside her building up still, where it had been a thought in her mind, now it seemed like a pressure.
Until he moved her and her head dropped by his, head cool against the grass the was underneath them, a hand sweeping across her neck to pull her hair out of the way. The hand not in his hair, curled into the earth instead as his teeth pulled in such a enticing way. Like this, she couldn't find his shoulder to smother herself, as she was so used to doing, couldn't bite down or swallow back the surprised gasped that escaped her, and she breathed out, her words became no more than a moan of pleasure. Strange that her loss of control shouldn't bother her, making sounds better fit for a harlot, but she wouldn't have him stop. Not for her kingdom or her crown, would she have him stop the way he made her whole body forget to breath, to do nothing but writhe against him.
The dirt was going to be embedded under her nails at how she pulled at it, trying to anchor herself back. Their secret. When he'd gone from her again, she'd ask to have this garden made private for her alone. She'd call it her garden of avarice, and her ministers would scold, and her skin would heat as it did now, every time she came here. Her secret, and it made her smile till her toes curled. ]
[For all the blood on her hands, for all the lives at her mercy, his is not. She could do whatever she wanted: shoot him, stab him, maim him, throw him to the pit, and still he'd find a way. Back from the black and smooth still. Maybe the definition of devil was right after all and as she groans, his smile widens around flesh. Opening of it wet and he trades teeth for a tongue. With the rough-crack of his lips to round and suck.]
[He can hear it, though. All the noises she makes and it's really too good. Far too kind and this is how he steals, how he keeps. Claimed not by chains to rattle or bars to hold, but by whispers that were anything but sweet-nothings. The choke of it raw, the sting of it to burn.]
[There's a smell of fresh dirt in the air when she bites nails in and he follows her. By tilting back his heel, forcing his rolling thigh to a stop. A jerk-still hold to apply the pressure and it's Hell's own game of chance.]
[All in, or all out.]
Sorry, lovely. You've got tell me - what is it you really want, hmn? [Greed's voice comes like sulfur. Too-hot, spewing with that sultry tone that seems to purr at his throat. His lips touching the naked part of her skin and he inhales softly; through his nose as he touches it to her breast.]
[Because while he won't exactly steal from her, he'll take. Snatch up whatever she's willing to give and it always comes to this: the final straw, to make or break a situation: a deal in the making.]
[But while he's demanding, he's not entirely ruthless and one claw extends. The feline to the kill, lining it up at the dip of her tail-bone. He settles there, though, and only trails up when he hears the earth moving again. When dirt grinds and there'll be evidence under her nails for someone else to take care of.]
blaaah sorry if this was terrible fjdfds was half asleep
[ It takes will -- and a formidable one at that, -- to force her mind back from the tremble in her hands and arms, from the fever hot feeling building up in her stomach, between her legs. Where the slight touch was both too much and too little. The too tense way she held herself even as she forced herself up to look down at him.
She was too impatient, always had been, and she made a short noise to that end, her hips grinding down against his when he asked, as if he didn't know what she so greatly wished for. ]
As if you do not know. Would you have me beg? [ Laughing, she pushed at his shoulder. Then she dipped her head and nipped at his ear, her tongue flicking gently and she let out a sigh as his finger brushed across the base of her spine. The shiver working it's way up her flushed and too warm skin.
But she could tell him, keep her dignity and say the truth all the same. It wasn't a command or a demand. Nor was it begging. She expected and knew he would not fail her. That was not how their business worked. Even if instead of secrets of others that they so usually traded, it was heat and selfishness. ] I want to be a woman, for awhile. [ and she nipped at his ear, as if she could not bare the implications of those words, and she would rather sound playful than lonely. ] I want to touch as other women do and be touched the same. [ Not forever, not even until sunrise. But for now, for now it was all she wanted. Like this, without state pressing on her, she could tease and mock and have it all there, sitting below the surface with so little mask to cover it.
Her eyes lowered, admiring his chest, the curve of his muscles, and her finger traced across his collar bone, tapping there. ] I would have you be the one to ease this -- [ the relentless heat, the shivering and it seemed like bottomless hunger that every priest warned against when they spoke of avarice ] -- that you started in me, my love. I want you to be selfish with me. I want to be selfish with you. [ Her head tilted, bemused almost at her own honesty. ] Do I need to say more?
[ It was less, than some men wanted, but more than she had given anyone else. ]
[He's silent at her proclamation; when she lets it all out, piece after piece, inch after inch. The only noise coming from him the parting of his lips to reveal a more jagged grin. One that prods and pushes, applying pressure to every part of his face that it graces.]
[Then, finally, he simply answers:] That's all I needed to hear, lovely.
[Greed's a basic need and there's no use denying it. Denying want, need, desire; lusting after things, possessions, sex, and status. Everyone wanted something and in the end, Elizabeth was the same. Taken by both the textbook tale and the living embodiment. To grab the heart and sink its teeth in and Greed moves to her command. Lifting from the torso and he hooks a claw between silver-steel and leather. Tears the clasp with a quick-fling jerk of a nail to open his slacks.]
[But he wastes little time and his legs drop and splay. Snatching her by those hips to roll her into original positions taken: back to stage one, her spine to the cool earth as he rides his own thighs. Lifting, rising and Greed watches her from the elevated position. Moon at his back, caressing over strange skin and a tight jaw.]
[For few seconds, then, he merely stares. With eyes made for the dark, the gentle-tick of a widening glance making those sharp-pupils expand. Predatory, dangerous, but oddly sincere.]
[Before it's all gone in a flash of too-white teeth.]
[The Sin takes a belt-loop in the curve of his thumb and in two-quick jerks, he's freeing himself from the constant leather. Making it wash and fall over his hips, down his thighs. Pooling at the knees and he shoves pants and boots aside with a kick-back of a leg.] Why don't you show me just who you really are, then.
[It's stated even as he eases himself back over her. Taking a shoulder and tipping them both. Until his own blades hit the ground with an audible thud, allowing her the perch she so rightly deserves. So desperately wants. On top of him and she can reign Queen however she likes. He wouldn't take that from her, not now, not when she's been so honest and as a set of talons grab her thighs, Greed motions the other to his mouth. 'Shield tumbling, flipping over and over itself until he's only got flesh to match.]
[He inspects his fingers, if only for a moment. Shrugs and shoves two into his mouth. Prodding past teeth, letting a tongue slide between to slick the surface and both release with a single pop of his gums. Surface-wet like black ice and he crawls a hand between her legs. Searching blindly, that look of his never leaving her eyes.]
Glad to hear you're finally seeing things my way, Elizabeth. No need to deny what you really want, after all. [Honest, to the point, and not in the fashion most normal men would speak. As if they were forcing the act, but even The Avaricious has standards, morals.]
[So when he presses moist fingers between her legs, it isn't forceful. Isn't even hard. Just a slight coil of knuckles laced. To feel and prod; to tease and caress.]
[Because he'll wait it out - for as long as it takes and he'll enjoy every second he can covet.]
[ She wondered what he saw, as she gazed up at him, outlined in the moon and the stars. Her hand raised, and she traced the edge of his jaw, fingertips against rough skin, her smile soft and as sincere as the look in his eyes.
At least before she's helping him take off his pants, those fingers of hers greedy for the flesh -- and whatever else he was besides -- to be pressed against her. ]
Only for now, Greed. [ For now, for now, as if it made it less of a sin, as if she has as much conviction in the warning that he already knows. But as she slides herself over him, settling her legs either side of him, one warm kiss pressed to his chest before she moved it sit up straight.
And it's a second -- when his fingers reached where she had wanted pressure for so long, where she'd grown so warm and slick -- that everything goes from her mind. Her head tilted back and her lips parting in a word that never made it that far. As much pleased by it as she was surprised, the soft little shocked gasps that followed as the heat spread and curled through her.
But she'd said selfish and selfish was what she was, in the end, when her hand caught his wrist, to keep him right as he was. Her brow furrowed, lips pressed together tightly as she hummed softly to no true melody. ]
[When she catches his wrist, he pauses. A flick of the eyes up and there's no mask to hide the look he gives. That carved-out smile and a hooded gaze that's both heavy and light at the same time. He tilts his head just slightly, cants it to the side with the shift of heavy muscle.]
Oh-? Just for now? That's not really very nice, lovely.
[But Greed's not about the question it too far and he knows if he takes another step, it'll all slip away. So the 'Shield falls and he gives back, if only just a little. The flesh of his knuckle exposed and it's raw, hard. A bit calloused, yet oddly soft at the same time. A balance between impossibles and sometimes, he can play the part just as well.]
[His finger turns clockwise. Slow, deliberate, and utterly ruthless. Following the hum of her melody and Greed lifts. Hovers with the help of his torso to place his teeth against the side of her neck. He breathes her in there, letting the noises she makes rattle in his ear. This is his favorite kind of melody, one not barred by poise and practice. By rules or regulation and it's a kind of freedom he's always had a craving for:]
[The right to choose.]
[Heat ignites those lines. Running a marathon up his shoulders, across his hips, and he doesn't hesitate the next move. Doesn't think about where to place the pawn and he only shifts. The jagged motions of his body giving him away and he finds the home between her thighs. Prodding and pushing until he's in and for a moment, the Sin stays that way. Hovering at the edge, feeling something he's craved for far too long.]
[Until a mouth snaps open and Greed's got her by the dip of her shoulder. Holding with a set that's sharp, but aware; that's she's just flesh and blood at the end the day and if he slips, there'll be more than the mark on her skin.]
[ It takes a while to even recall what he said, too focused on the way he teased her. But when she does, she watches him with low eyes. Sitting in his lap, like this, feeling him torment her and give her pleasure in so equal amounts. The anger she might of spat otherwise was simply not there, just a quiet longing she has not the sense to hide. It's longing that did this to her, that brought her into his embrace.
But in this life, in the end, it came down to much the same thing. ] I think you should hate me if I gave you more. [ It's breathed out, and the words were so full of regret. Bitterness etched into it, but wistfulness too. She'd long accepted, that what she was, was utterly unlovable. Not as a Queen, not as a woman, and she must have both. It was for the best, she told herself, she hardly knew what to do with her own weaknesses, let alone giving them to another to see.
But all the world had her as a Queen, he had her as a woman. A trembling, desperate, hungry and flushed woman pressed skin to skin with him -- and it would be enough. To have a respite for awhile. Eyes closed as she enjoyed how he touched her. When he bit she did nothing but expose her neck to him, stretching herself out for him to do as he may. She was far beyond caring about such a thing.
Not when -- and now she whimpers, softly gasping out -- as he slipped up and into her and she wants ( shewantsshewantshewants ) to move, to grind down. But not when he's so still, and she can feel it, all of him. His stillness is a contrast to her sharp gasp and needy moans that come so close to begging that he move, that he let her move.
But she can't with teeth set so close to her throat, a wolf's jaw that nuzzles her, and she can feel his warm breath on her skin as much as where his teeth almost could draw blood. But it's their dance, where he is kind, she is vicious, and where he is deadly, she is giving. So her hands swept up his back, into his hair and then down again. Whatever it took to soothe him, to coax him. Could pretend that it wasn't because she couldn't keep still, that way.
And then, so very carefully, she shifted her hips against his, biting her lip to keep herself silent from it. ]
[She didn't give a damn about redemption. Not in this way, not by the manner in which she grabbed and held. By the way she used her own weapons against him, asking without words. And while Greed, himself, was a monster by every single definition, he isn't so cruel to hold out on her for very long.]
[That wouldn't have been very far, after all.]
[So his hips roll and there's Hell between her thighs. Between him and her and oh, he'll just draw it out. Sin to sin, devil to devil, and he's so close to the fire. Nearly born from it and that carbon-coating at his fingers comes running back. Crawling just as slow as his pace. As he rolls and rocks his hips to the tune of a dying pulse. Just waiting for the end to take them, but he won't let it come that quickly.]
[Greed releases his teeth just to take a glance. Yes - she's Queen to everyone and anyone and he's the exception to the rule. Always had been and here, in this court, under her watchful eye and against the land that is so rightfully hers, the situation hadn't changed that much.]
[Usually, he'd talk. Hum and drag whatever noises out of his lover to a demand of his own. But not right now - voice exchanged for a growl that vibrates and latches to his throat. As he holds her hips and guides her to the beat. Pushing her back as he pulls out, dragging her forward when he rides in. Moving like a wave and it's a bad tide. Coming to shore to snag a wandering ankle and it'll be the undertow all the way down.]
[A whimper sends an eyebrow up, though. Distant yet there: almost removed. He's close enough that most people wouldn't know - not at a quick glance anyway - that he isn't human. But on close inspection and even closer relation, the signs are obvious to anyone paying the littlest of attention. His movements erratic, his expressions somewhat practiced.]
[It makes it easier to understand - a mutual fuck with royal blood and there isn't a need to worry about what dawn would bring.]
[Greed removes a claw from her hip. Flips it palm-up to her as he drags knuckles and the smooth side of his nails back up her rib-cage. Touching until he's got the shelf of her face in his palm and those talons extend. Wrapping around hair to hold her, the bucking of his hips keeping up with an elongated rhythm.]
[It's then that he shoves a nose to her ear, moving his torso vertically to meet. An awkward angle, but it doesn't seem to bother him in the slightest. He merely snatches the bottom half of her ear in his teeth, tapping the edge of his claws down her cheek.]
[ Almost the instant he began to move, the pressure began to build in the base of her spine. She can stand the slow pace he sets, because it is worse than not moving, and with his hold of his hands on her hips, she can become mindless to it. Her arms sliding over his shoulders, fingers knotting tightly until her knuckles turned white, with each slow rise and pull of her hips.
Like this, she's unaware of him looking at her, reacting to her, even as she reacts to him. It's been too long -- and for that it might be her undoing. All that matters to her, is fitting herself against him, whining softly when he left her empty, and sighing when he pressed back in.
This, all of this, she had no word for. She had no place doing this at all. But it was right to her, that they did all of it against earth and sky, and no one else. Better than being married, here she could be herself, rather than the priests watching, muttering prayers like it would ensure that she would get with child. She had no idea what it was like to be bedded for the sake of state, and she never would -- God willing, she never would.
It was more amusing to think how he would fare, with a priest and court watching. ]
Greed. [ A sharp word at how he twisted her, surprised by it momentarily. It slips her out of rhythm with him for a moment. Because his teeth were at her ear, his fingers tugging at her hair and so much like a doll as she twisted around him. The shudder making her back arch as she moved that little more insistently against him. The next stroke up, and she brought herself down that little harder, whole body clenching a little, her shoulders tense and her lips opened to a moan to echo the growl she felt rumble in his chest more than she heard.
But more than that -- and God forbid she should not be welcoming to any part of him -- her head turned that little bit, to press her lips against his claw. Hardly bothered by the black that crawled along and covered him, wondering if it tasted different to his skin. Her eyes open just enough to watch him react. Watching the blackness that shifted like a living thing on his body. Where his hand cupped the dip of her hip, the flex of his muscles as he moved with her. The contrast of all that dark against her white skin. ]
[Truth be told, he had visited a church before. Prior to her and hers; before he had been snatched from his own world and spat back into another. Like a plague: wet and sticky, crawling out of the abyss.]
[But back then, things had been different and he had been another sort of monster. His history darker now than he presented. Made in blood with a slow-strut to the altar and Hell followed with him.]
[But Greed was himself - he was just that. Avaricious, the title befitting the name, and he left it all behind for the pursuit of his own happiness. Which was a twisted reflection and even here, there's something off. The sex not between lovers, but business partners and oh, would he just smile and smile at any sort of pastor that may have gave him presence.]
[Instead, though, Greed grins at her. Turns lips against one another and presses them still.]
[Silently, he opens up his hand when she kisses it out. Showing her all his daggers, all his weapons, and he's entirely made for mass destruction.] Go ahead - I won't hurt you, lovely.
[The Sin can't help when he purrs out his words. His name is on her lips and when she turns, he turns. Following, two snakes to snare each other in the cruelest sort of mating ritual.]
[But unlike what may have been - what could have been and what so many seemed to want - he couldn't give her that. The next line of kings and that would have to be saved for something else. That didn't mean Greed didn't take pleasure in the moment. He had other intentions and they called just for the feeling of it. Grinding his hips against her own, threatening to crack and split one another.]
[Greed gives her his shoulder then, slipping his claws away as his knuckles thicken. Black like ink and the tips are as sharp as any quill - sinking into one of the arrays caressing over the dip of his shoulder. He drags his nails there, showing her just where to go - where the wicked-electric begins with a spark to ignite and he's the red-light district in every sense of the word.]
[How the light touches his face, how it seems to turn eerie purples bloody. But he's not the sort for violence - not here and certainly not with his company and he removes his nails as the lines mend. As his core flickers across his shoulder to seal it off completely.]
[He swipes the blood off with flick, letting the last dregs of a spark dance on his tongue. Before it's all clean and slick and wet. A new sort of instrument and he falls away from her violently. Letting his shoulder blades fan out across the dirt, making a hollow thud and his feet find anchor. The sound of his defenses rising where toes ought to be and he sinks his second set into the earth. Uses it as leverage to push himself deeper, to raise her higher.]
[And his knuckle slides between spread thighs - her own and his - caressing where his cock ends and she begins. His smile vicious, but knowing.]
[ 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.
[His eyes go shut when her teeth meet his skin, but it isn't with the same heavy lust. It's something of a crooked smile, one that's hard to read: both sinister and kind. Both relentless and giving. An anomaly all by itself and wasn't he just the definition: something that wasn't quite human, but teetered on the brink of the idea. Something that should have had her pinned down and torn apart, but wouldn't raise a hand even if he was forced. Each part of him a contradiction. From the name he held to the weapons he harbored.]
[It was, is, and would be why he always turned tail from the rest of kin.]
[He laughs, though, when she struggles to make words. When they're jumbled and it's the sweetest kind of payout. The whole pile of chips to run through his knuckles and he pulls himself out completely. Only to shove himself in deeper, slowly, savoring the moment. While his finger unfurls and Greed strokes to the beat. As if in an afterthought.] Oh-? Didn't think that really mattered here, lovely.
[But he offers his lips instead. His own throat more suitable than cries shoved to the proverbial pillow and the Sin takes her mouth with his. Tongue to prod, following the gesture of his grinding hips. Smothering her with all the heat she so desperately wants and he lifts with his thighs. With his heels. Up and down, in and out. Letting her ride as hard as she wants, but he'll torture as good as the rest.]
[She hasn't said no - hasn't told him to stop. Nothing but that need saying more than any worries she may have and Greed can't help his grin. It's the cat that's got all the cream and oh, does it just pour and pour and pour.]
[One finger's followed by a second. And a third. Running from the hidden bend and away and he's caressing her hip, dragging knuckles across her bones. Until he dips to where his stomach meets and muscles tense. Giving him room to slip between her legs, grabbing her sex between two splayed-fingers and he pinches there. Rolls, jerks, and twists.]
[ 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. ]
[It's messy and dirty and anything but pretty. Least to any normal mind. When her lips smash against his red and the Sin parts the way with a grin to give even a Hell a run for its money. Eyes shut, neck craning forward to guide those moans down his throat. They echo there, like the long-lost souls in a cave that stretches for hours, for days. Crying out, but there's no use, not here.]
[They're both far too gone for that.]
[But she's got a country to think about - not that Greed really cares and he should have seen the bite at his shoulder coming. He 'tsks' with his teeth peeled apart, tilting his head away so that she can have at it. It'll heal anyway and what's a few brief marks between good ol'chums.] And what's the point of a ruler if you're still thinking that small?
[Queen, king, emperor: it didn't mean shit to him. His avarice ran far too deep, like wires through the underground and on and on it went. To him, land was good, money was better, but ruling the entire world?]
[Is so much sweeter.]
[Though, he just leaves it at that. For now, at least, and instead chooses to run his fingers a bit harder, driving them down where her sex dips and he begins. Greed pinches once, if not just to tease, while his other hand makes claws at her back. A crackle of noise, the sound easy enough to recognize by now, and he's got the smooth side of his talons riding the bumps of her spine. The bucks of her hips.]
Mn - take it easy, Elizabeth. [The Queen is desperate to conquer, always. But he just isn't the kind that can be - not even his own flesh and blood had the power to do it and she certainly doesn't. But those thighs squeeze oh-so-good and Greed's got no shame in hiding it. How much he likes when she rides him, when she bites him. When she tries so damn hard.]
[So, he opens his lips. Lets her hear a grunt or two - feral, obscene. Though, he's never made any notion to the contrary.]
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[ His hands were far too distracting to tell him what she found so amusing, because there was no way she couldn't feel where they trailed. She wonders what he's doing, at least until all the air was forced out in a gasp. Half his name said in surprise, ( and like this, she'd agree, there was no reason to call him by a title ), and then she couldn't get air back, not between the way the laces pulled so tightly. Panting soft, shallow breaths at his neck, as he bit at hers. ]
[ In the end, it didn't matter though. The thought was clear as spanish glass, he was hers, for awhile, as much as she was his. If he let go of her, she'd tumble and fall, she was sure of that much, because she could not be sure of herself at the moment. Needing someone so much, wanting more than was dignified ought to have scared her still. But she couldn't muster enough feeling to care, because nothing else would come, except the soft moan she muffled against his shoulder, a stifled gasp more than anything else. Blood rushed and pounded and she could hardly care, if it meant he kept touching her. ]
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[But it's only for a moment.]
[Because while a hitched-breath is nice, freedom is oh so sweeter. And his mouth opens, spreading tooth for tooth with a hiss of inhale. The last breath of the poisonous before fangs take lace. Shred with a yank of his skull, with the side jerk of his jaws. Snapping to pieces, an animal by any other definition.]
[But there's something more than that; something past carnal urges, past instinct and Greed catches the ribbons with a slow release. Lips dropping as gingerly as a mother to its den of kin and he swipes the collection away. Open to the palm of his hand, disappearing backwards.]
Easy, lovely. No need to hurt yourself on my account.
[It's like the moon is reflected in those eyes; ghostly appeal to the color of purple. Rich and foreboding, dangerous and deadly. Everything he is all out in the open and it's the honesty he's always promised. No hint of the truth flipped, no mask to hide his intentions. The cards out and he's never had the best of poker faces.]
[Smile far too wide, grin far too menacing. The constant drum of it, even when circumstances were less than ideal.]
[But she's right, though. Hot as a Spanish summer and someone, somewhere, could have written for it. Could have predicted this long ago; that the warm-cool touch would summon him to her. When all the lights had gone out, when everything seemed so lost. Hand stretched, a beckoning: as if he had every solution, every fix.]
[For a price, of course.]
[Muscle tenses as he moves to stand. Swiping like ink to the canvas, drawing with every inch, every second passing an eternity. Until he's got his face back to her own and a thick knuckle pushes between the smallest opening at her corset. The strips of lace still holding until a prod snaps and an index hooks in. Similar to a fishing lore at the gaping mouth and he's willing to give her a bit of air.]
Anything you want - after all, it's not like I'm about to judge you, hmn? [Greed says with a tilt. Sending his sunglasses back over his eyes, sinking those purples away to the watery-black. Back to hollow sockets and his smile stretches.]
So go on - shed that skin of yours, gorgeous.
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-- And oh she'd had a hundred men kneel before, pay homage to her like she was some altar. It's fitting that it should mimic that, twisted by intentions as it should be. With him, it is always twisted.
All the same, her smile is hazy as she looks down at him. With more affection as her fingers traced up and down his neck. Her blues eyes dark, with something else than just contentment though. Her lips dark from kissing him. And best that they did this in the night, where secrets could be kept. For so much as she would have to go past guards and her ladies, and the little hints of lust then, would be too much in the day. ]
[ All the same he stood, his request an obvious one. Not surprised so much that he'd asked, because a woman's clothes were more complicated than most liked to deal with -- thus her ladies and her maids.
So she laughed, breathing and light, for she felt that easy enough as her fingers went to her bodice, sliding the already loosened laces apart further.
In the end, she's glad she had worn something simple, something that when she lifted her hands to her shoulders, slipped down easily enough. Not that she looked at herself, but rather kept her eyes on him, using the heat she found there in his gaze to keep her going when the cool night air hit exposed skin. Nervous as she might feel, her pride would come first, and she titled her head up, even as her skirts pooled at her feet.
Her long red hair falling down was enough to cover her. He wanted truth, and he would have it. This was as bare as she could be, in the end. Nothing to hide behind, not now. ]
Well? [ Though she wasn't sure of the question she was asking. If he still found her desirable, still found her something -- to feel such need for. To possess for awhile. Or if he was just going to leave her standing here like a fool. ]
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[Claws too black, following the pitch. Cold-hard carbon that makes the points of his nails thinner, sharper and it's a set of talons. Wrapped in something difficult to break and it's not as if he's about to let her handle everything on her own. That wouldn't be fair and since the evening has been rather tipped on his scale, he's not beneath a favor returned.]
[A jerk of the wrist sends them out. Cat-claws to scratch and he pops the remaining ribbons as the corset falls down. As the skeletal structure widens with the descent and it's wires to the pull. To fray under the pressure, snapping with every release of fabric.]
[But his smile is slightly warm to the question that comes: "Well?" Well, what. As if she expected him to stop and he barks. Loud enough, thunder to crack against his rib-cage, to echo back down into his wicked pit and Greed peels clothing away. From her back and out, only to be dropped in the collection and toed away.]
What? Did you expect me to say no? [The Sin teases, hiss of his voice the flavor of bones-rattling and claws snake up. The faintest touch of light igniting the smoothness, making tips shine as he hooks the nose-piece of his shades. Pulling them away, allowing her to take a glance. To see what's been staring back all this time.]
[They're made with the intention of a viper; with the instinct of something more and slit pupils dilate. Knock like ping-pongs, vibrating as they try to figure out whether to thin or thicken. Whether to stay put and Greed coils around. Slides his claws down her back, making them hop, skip, and jump where he found the proverbial speed bumps.]
Do you even remember who you're talking to, lovely? The name is Greed, after all.
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But she didn't think so.
Even so, she couldn't help tease. Her cool fingers slipping under his shirt, running circles, her lips finding his neck once more and marking skin in short little bites. ] You could leave me here, more fool me. What use would a devil have of me?
[ Though the sight of his two black claws where the hands that caressed her so sent a fever sick thrill down her spine as those talons trace down. They could so easily slit her throat. Like this, she was nothing but soft skin. Defenceless. ( and wasn't that why she so often said no? )
But he was a devil, after all and she had the proof of it now, pressed against her body. Her shoulders tensed for a moment, when all he did was tease her again, she let the fear slip away, her head rolling back as she took the time to enjoy it. God damn her all the same.
Still, when she looked back at him, the amusement was still there. ] Many a man is made of greed, and more than one of them has undressed a woman to find her displeasing to his eyes and not worth having after all.
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[Night-life from his fingertips; to chase down her back, mapping each knot of her spine. Each break of the bone at the smooth side of his claws, the parting of them bringing knuckles back and he jerks his head to line it up with the side of her own. Touching temple to temple, the best way to pay homage.]
[She's right; the description suitable and he's thought about it before. Hell out of his grasp, but he imagines that's where they're really come from. Out of the void and into flesh, birthed by bad blood and Greed breathes into the shelf of her ear when fingers go under his shirt. Skating across muscle and a mild retreat takes hold. Tattooed-palm now painted black, hitching brown fabric to rip it over his head. Shivering the spikes of his hair, a nest of quills and it's like a porcupine poised. Ready to shoot off, only to still when the threat's long passed.]
[And knuckle to knuckle, it falls. Dribbling, the last form of payment, all debts settled. Red to the skin and the same odd lines mark him. They're hot to the touch, the cruel fire she's accused him of being from in every-inch.] Many a man, sure. But remember - I'm not really human.
[The opposite; the basic concept of a human-born illness and he's the disease. Noxious in every flavor, sick with every breath. Poison to the weary and as he brings his lips back to her neck, that free hand shoots out. Jerk-motion of his arm sending his collection of leather bands flinging back. As he gingerly slides a nail down the curve of her hip, down the bump of her backside.]
[All the while, with teeth at the bend of her neck and the Sin hovers his points over a beating-jugular. Letting her pulse vibrate with his own, letting her feel just what sort of monster he really was. 'Shield sliding and smoothing, a tale written on never-ending parchment. A story with no happy ending and Greed hums. Moving in to smother, to drag claws across skin, to rock his hips against her own. A horrible tide coming into shore, bringing with it all the terrible remains.]
[But he's not here to harm or hurt; not here to leave her cold, with only the bitter memories to stale her tongue. No - he's here for far more and as he beckons her into his arms, he's tipping her. Just slightly, so that for once?]
[She can have someone else lift that weight away; someone else to shoulder the burden of those aching feet.]
[Greed opens his jaws slightly, a hiss to caress her skin.] And anyone who would say no to this would be stupid, lovely.
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She murmured it back to him, indistinct perhaps, a mixture of languages because one did not seem enough to describe. But it amounted to the same meaning, breathed against him, over and over with kisses pressed to his skin. ( I want you, I want you. ) ]
You shall not disappoint me, as all men do.
[ A ultimatum, a surety that he would never let her fall. Because this was nothing like what they offered. There was no politics, no cold words disguised as pretty sonnets, no false intentions held by expectations that had to be met. There was just a brutal, encompassing need, and he could not fail her in it, not as they did. They who could not warm her, soothe her, could not give her this truth -- and more base than that, when he rolled against her and she gasped again. Not this time, for air stolen from her, but with the heat that was like canon fire. Her nails raked down his back with viciousness that was not expected from a lady, but expected from a Queen.
With one hand, she could rule, and with the other, she would conquer.
Strange thing it is to be held and still keep her pride, but she would never waste a opportunity. Her leg slid so carefully up his side, forcing to press every intimate part of herself to him. Arms about his shoulders, as she steals a kiss again so briefly. ] Then do not waste me.
[ Her eyes still bright and her lips she knew, stained darker from kissing him. ]
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[They've been doing this too long for it not to come to this; each circling one another, two different harmonies finding a similar pulse and when her nails rake down, his dig in. A waltz all on its very own and he follows her two-step with a three-step. Scratches when she bites, kissing when she begs.]
[She's a ruler and she's made for it. Despite any calls to the contrary and she's right for the crown. But he's not interested in that, oh no. Being a ruler of a country is fine, but being king of the world?]
[That's something else entirely.]
[Her kiss keeps him silent, at least for a while. And as he lowers her to the ground below, he quickly moves to engulf her. Fire to the trail of gunpowder and she lit the match a long time ago. Months prior, when there were others to contend with and she had politely said no, in all manner of speaking.]
I don't plan to - I'm just not that kind of guy.
[When her back finds a solid surface, his claws retract. Instead, to smooth up her leg - jerking it without need of permission this time. Folding it to his back, running it along the jut of his hips, his torso. Melding the two together as his lips meet hers again. Shoving against them, dragging the points of his teeth to stain a darker color. Not to draw blood, of course. But to make them puffy and raw; to toss the curtain back and let her be her for once in her life.]
[Because avarice has no room for lies, no room for petty gestures. Sonnets and songs left to better men - or worse. But Greed didn't need them. Didn't want them. Complications of the court not his forte and he prefers things a bit finer, a bit more open. The underbelly of the world and that's where his kingdom truly lies. On the rough backside of bruised knuckles and terrible grins.]
[The 'Shield threatens to make her nails bounce as it shifts. The fluttering a wicked base-drum, sliding up and down. As if he's giving her the next taste of it and Greed lines his nails up with the inside of her thigh. Sliding back, dragging those deadly points to softer flesh. Chasing lines to a hint of red.]
Show me everything you've got, lovely.
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The moment she settled against the earth, her back arched, her chest rising up, her hands stretched above her head, to give him the space to move his hands. Indulgent, as her leg was drawn around him. Hair sprawled about her head and she craved every way he touched her. A guiltless moan slipping her lips before she could bite down on it.
With her eyes closed, for the time being at least, she could enjoy every place his trailed over. His warmth was a comfortable one, between her legs, and she held him there, shivering as his claws trailed up. Almost too harsh on skin too soft, that had not been touched...
... well longer than was to be considered, either way, it made her frown in concentration, pausing in a breath drawn in. Desperate for something he was taking so long to give her. The next buck of her hips was so much more impatient.
God it felt glorious, to have want and wanting so free, rolling over the surface of her like a wave. ]
Since you asked, my love. [ She used the way her legs were wrapped around him as leverage before she rolled them back. The smirk slipping onto her lips was of pure satisfaction as her hands brace on his chest. A mock lovers tone, because they weren't any kind of sweetheart that poets wrote of. They were crueler, more vain, and more free than anything so simplistic, than that. The smugness and pride settled over her like hair did as it fell about her shoulders.
Smug like she had the finest stallion between her legs, and she had every intent to ride him. Her body more than accustomed to the roll of hips that went with it, all that power under her, like she felt the hundred times she'd ridden. She dipped her body over him, fitting herself against him, her knees either side of his hips and she took her time. Wondering from his lips, to his neck, and she bit like she intended to mark, teeth pulling until she hoped it stung.
Then further down she slipped, along the curious fire hot lines that marked him out from any other man. Her fingertips pressed against the bones of his hips, holding him still as she pressed warm open mouthed kisses to the dip of skin and bone. Not so rough as the ones that preceded it, she took her time. Dragging each kiss out as long as she could, before leaving another and another, a trail from one side to the other. Letters on a manuscript muttered in French and breathed out into him.
It was only after she was done, that she pulled herself back up, pressing her breasts flat against his chest as she lay against him once more. The same smug grin there, pleased with herself. ]
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[Maybe in this situation, he is the prized horse. After months of trying and she's seizing the moment. To ride, to try to break him, and with the roll of her hips, he bucks to meet. As if he's threatening to send it right off, but it couldn't be further from the truth.]
[Elizabeth has always been similar to the kind of fighters he quickly got to know before. When he was stripped down and thrown into another vessel and their ways had been odd. Foreign like the language she speaks, a means to distract with one hand while the other was coming on quick with a blade. To kill with a hidden blow and all of her movements hark to the same.]
[Thankfully, he's not one easily surprised and when she makes kisses down those lines, he raises the temperature. Lets that unnatural heat flare in his arrays and they're similar to the red-hot stroke of a forge. To glisten in intricacies of a blade, to make it unique with the craftsman's own mark.]
Oh-? Didn't think you had it in you, lovely.
[Greed's not one to leave a deal without striking one of his own and claws meet when her breasts press against his chest. Shoving her up with another jerk of his hips, giving only a couple of seconds. Though, he's fast. Enough to settle a knee between spread legs, to let her ride out a thigh as he grinds it against her. Leather to naked flesh, the pool of fabric around them becoming more dense.]
[He takes a moment, though. To show off his collection of knives, slicing through the peeled-off remains. Letting cloth shutter and rip with ease before a palm comes out. To grip one of her wandering hands by the wrist, jerking it above his own skull. Forcing fingers to the spikes of his hair, every sharp point of him at her beck and all.]
[Greed pins it there and sure, it's an awkward angle. But it makes for a slippery slope and as his heels dig into the ground, he's sliding under her. Washing beneath her until her chest is at the mercy of his mouth and the Sin takes in an exposed nipple. Tugging it oh-so-gently between his teeth, tracing the round of it with an ear-tipped.]
[Because he wants to really hear it; everything she has to offer and he'll gladly take it all.]
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But she did not think Greed would shrink from her, for her cruelty. She was in good company. She regretted killing, but she'd never regret being strong. She did this in live defiance of them, of it all. She would be a woman and a Queen and she would lust as much as she reigned with ice in her voice. But the former would be his secret, in the end. And hers.
The press of his leg between hers, was enough to bring another gasp from her, a soft note to join the music between them. Her voice soft, an almost whine as she ground back against him. Wanting more than just that, but it seemed all he was willing to give her. The raw emptiness inside her building up still, where it had been a thought in her mind, now it seemed like a pressure.
Until he moved her and her head dropped by his, head cool against the grass the was underneath them, a hand sweeping across her neck to pull her hair out of the way. The hand not in his hair, curled into the earth instead as his teeth pulled in such a enticing way. Like this, she couldn't find his shoulder to smother herself, as she was so used to doing, couldn't bite down or swallow back the surprised gasped that escaped her, and she breathed out, her words became no more than a moan of pleasure. Strange that her loss of control shouldn't bother her, making sounds better fit for a harlot, but she wouldn't have him stop. Not for her kingdom or her crown, would she have him stop the way he made her whole body forget to breath, to do nothing but writhe against him.
The dirt was going to be embedded under her nails at how she pulled at it, trying to anchor herself back. Their secret. When he'd gone from her again, she'd ask to have this garden made private for her alone. She'd call it her garden of avarice, and her ministers would scold, and her skin would heat as it did now, every time she came here. Her secret, and it made her smile till her toes curled. ]
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[He can hear it, though. All the noises she makes and it's really too good. Far too kind and this is how he steals, how he keeps. Claimed not by chains to rattle or bars to hold, but by whispers that were anything but sweet-nothings. The choke of it raw, the sting of it to burn.]
[There's a smell of fresh dirt in the air when she bites nails in and he follows her. By tilting back his heel, forcing his rolling thigh to a stop. A jerk-still hold to apply the pressure and it's Hell's own game of chance.]
[All in, or all out.]
Sorry, lovely. You've got tell me - what is it you really want, hmn? [Greed's voice comes like sulfur. Too-hot, spewing with that sultry tone that seems to purr at his throat. His lips touching the naked part of her skin and he inhales softly; through his nose as he touches it to her breast.]
[Because while he won't exactly steal from her, he'll take. Snatch up whatever she's willing to give and it always comes to this: the final straw, to make or break a situation: a deal in the making.]
[But while he's demanding, he's not entirely ruthless and one claw extends. The feline to the kill, lining it up at the dip of her tail-bone. He settles there, though, and only trails up when he hears the earth moving again. When dirt grinds and there'll be evidence under her nails for someone else to take care of.]
blaaah sorry if this was terrible fjdfds was half asleep
She was too impatient, always had been, and she made a short noise to that end, her hips grinding down against his when he asked, as if he didn't know what she so greatly wished for. ]
As if you do not know. Would you have me beg? [ Laughing, she pushed at his shoulder. Then she dipped her head and nipped at his ear, her tongue flicking gently and she let out a sigh as his finger brushed across the base of her spine. The shiver working it's way up her flushed and too warm skin.
But she could tell him, keep her dignity and say the truth all the same. It wasn't a command or a demand. Nor was it begging. She expected and knew he would not fail her. That was not how their business worked. Even if instead of secrets of others that they so usually traded, it was heat and selfishness. ] I want to be a woman, for awhile. [ and she nipped at his ear, as if she could not bare the implications of those words, and she would rather sound playful than lonely. ] I want to touch as other women do and be touched the same. [ Not forever, not even until sunrise. But for now, for now it was all she wanted. Like this, without state pressing on her, she could tease and mock and have it all there, sitting below the surface with so little mask to cover it.
Her eyes lowered, admiring his chest, the curve of his muscles, and her finger traced across his collar bone, tapping there. ] I would have you be the one to ease this -- [ the relentless heat, the shivering and it seemed like bottomless hunger that every priest warned against when they spoke of avarice ] -- that you started in me, my love. I want you to be selfish with me. I want to be selfish with you. [ Her head tilted, bemused almost at her own honesty. ] Do I need to say more?
[ It was less, than some men wanted, but more than she had given anyone else. ]
NO IT'S FABULOUS HUN no worries
[Then, finally, he simply answers:] That's all I needed to hear, lovely.
[Greed's a basic need and there's no use denying it. Denying want, need, desire; lusting after things, possessions, sex, and status. Everyone wanted something and in the end, Elizabeth was the same. Taken by both the textbook tale and the living embodiment. To grab the heart and sink its teeth in and Greed moves to her command. Lifting from the torso and he hooks a claw between silver-steel and leather. Tears the clasp with a quick-fling jerk of a nail to open his slacks.]
[But he wastes little time and his legs drop and splay. Snatching her by those hips to roll her into original positions taken: back to stage one, her spine to the cool earth as he rides his own thighs. Lifting, rising and Greed watches her from the elevated position. Moon at his back, caressing over strange skin and a tight jaw.]
[For few seconds, then, he merely stares. With eyes made for the dark, the gentle-tick of a widening glance making those sharp-pupils expand. Predatory, dangerous, but oddly sincere.]
[Before it's all gone in a flash of too-white teeth.]
[The Sin takes a belt-loop in the curve of his thumb and in two-quick jerks, he's freeing himself from the constant leather. Making it wash and fall over his hips, down his thighs. Pooling at the knees and he shoves pants and boots aside with a kick-back of a leg.] Why don't you show me just who you really are, then.
[It's stated even as he eases himself back over her. Taking a shoulder and tipping them both. Until his own blades hit the ground with an audible thud, allowing her the perch she so rightly deserves. So desperately wants. On top of him and she can reign Queen however she likes. He wouldn't take that from her, not now, not when she's been so honest and as a set of talons grab her thighs, Greed motions the other to his mouth. 'Shield tumbling, flipping over and over itself until he's only got flesh to match.]
[He inspects his fingers, if only for a moment. Shrugs and shoves two into his mouth. Prodding past teeth, letting a tongue slide between to slick the surface and both release with a single pop of his gums. Surface-wet like black ice and he crawls a hand between her legs. Searching blindly, that look of his never leaving her eyes.]
Glad to hear you're finally seeing things my way, Elizabeth. No need to deny what you really want, after all. [Honest, to the point, and not in the fashion most normal men would speak. As if they were forcing the act, but even The Avaricious has standards, morals.]
[So when he presses moist fingers between her legs, it isn't forceful. Isn't even hard. Just a slight coil of knuckles laced. To feel and prod; to tease and caress.]
[Because he'll wait it out - for as long as it takes and he'll enjoy every second he can covet.]
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At least before she's helping him take off his pants, those fingers of hers greedy for the flesh -- and whatever else he was besides -- to be pressed against her. ]
Only for now, Greed. [ For now, for now, as if it made it less of a sin, as if she has as much conviction in the warning that he already knows. But as she slides herself over him, settling her legs either side of him, one warm kiss pressed to his chest before she moved it sit up straight.
And it's a second -- when his fingers reached where she had wanted pressure for so long, where she'd grown so warm and slick -- that everything goes from her mind. Her head tilted back and her lips parting in a word that never made it that far. As much pleased by it as she was surprised, the soft little shocked gasps that followed as the heat spread and curled through her.
But she'd said selfish and selfish was what she was, in the end, when her hand caught his wrist, to keep him right as he was. Her brow furrowed, lips pressed together tightly as she hummed softly to no true melody. ]
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Oh-? Just for now? That's not really very nice, lovely.
[But Greed's not about the question it too far and he knows if he takes another step, it'll all slip away. So the 'Shield falls and he gives back, if only just a little. The flesh of his knuckle exposed and it's raw, hard. A bit calloused, yet oddly soft at the same time. A balance between impossibles and sometimes, he can play the part just as well.]
[His finger turns clockwise. Slow, deliberate, and utterly ruthless. Following the hum of her melody and Greed lifts. Hovers with the help of his torso to place his teeth against the side of her neck. He breathes her in there, letting the noises she makes rattle in his ear. This is his favorite kind of melody, one not barred by poise and practice. By rules or regulation and it's a kind of freedom he's always had a craving for:]
[The right to choose.]
[Heat ignites those lines. Running a marathon up his shoulders, across his hips, and he doesn't hesitate the next move. Doesn't think about where to place the pawn and he only shifts. The jagged motions of his body giving him away and he finds the home between her thighs. Prodding and pushing until he's in and for a moment, the Sin stays that way. Hovering at the edge, feeling something he's craved for far too long.]
[Until a mouth snaps open and Greed's got her by the dip of her shoulder. Holding with a set that's sharp, but aware; that's she's just flesh and blood at the end the day and if he slips, there'll be more than the mark on her skin.]
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But in this life, in the end, it came down to much the same thing. ] I think you should hate me if I gave you more. [ It's breathed out, and the words were so full of regret. Bitterness etched into it, but wistfulness too. She'd long accepted, that what she was, was utterly unlovable. Not as a Queen, not as a woman, and she must have both. It was for the best, she told herself, she hardly knew what to do with her own weaknesses, let alone giving them to another to see.
But all the world had her as a Queen, he had her as a woman. A trembling, desperate, hungry and flushed woman pressed skin to skin with him -- and it would be enough. To have a respite for awhile. Eyes closed as she enjoyed how he touched her. When he bit she did nothing but expose her neck to him, stretching herself out for him to do as he may. She was far beyond caring about such a thing.
Not when -- and now she whimpers, softly gasping out -- as he slipped up and into her and she wants ( shewantsshewantshewants ) to move, to grind down. But not when he's so still, and she can feel it, all of him. His stillness is a contrast to her sharp gasp and needy moans that come so close to begging that he move, that he let her move.
But she can't with teeth set so close to her throat, a wolf's jaw that nuzzles her, and she can feel his warm breath on her skin as much as where his teeth almost could draw blood. But it's their dance, where he is kind, she is vicious, and where he is deadly, she is giving. So her hands swept up his back, into his hair and then down again. Whatever it took to soothe him, to coax him. Could pretend that it wasn't because she couldn't keep still, that way.
And then, so very carefully, she shifted her hips against his, biting her lip to keep herself silent from it. ]
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[That wouldn't have been very far, after all.]
[So his hips roll and there's Hell between her thighs. Between him and her and oh, he'll just draw it out. Sin to sin, devil to devil, and he's so close to the fire. Nearly born from it and that carbon-coating at his fingers comes running back. Crawling just as slow as his pace. As he rolls and rocks his hips to the tune of a dying pulse. Just waiting for the end to take them, but he won't let it come that quickly.]
[Greed releases his teeth just to take a glance. Yes - she's Queen to everyone and anyone and he's the exception to the rule. Always had been and here, in this court, under her watchful eye and against the land that is so rightfully hers, the situation hadn't changed that much.]
[Usually, he'd talk. Hum and drag whatever noises out of his lover to a demand of his own. But not right now - voice exchanged for a growl that vibrates and latches to his throat. As he holds her hips and guides her to the beat. Pushing her back as he pulls out, dragging her forward when he rides in. Moving like a wave and it's a bad tide. Coming to shore to snag a wandering ankle and it'll be the undertow all the way down.]
[A whimper sends an eyebrow up, though. Distant yet there: almost removed. He's close enough that most people wouldn't know - not at a quick glance anyway - that he isn't human. But on close inspection and even closer relation, the signs are obvious to anyone paying the littlest of attention. His movements erratic, his expressions somewhat practiced.]
[It makes it easier to understand - a mutual fuck with royal blood and there isn't a need to worry about what dawn would bring.]
[Greed removes a claw from her hip. Flips it palm-up to her as he drags knuckles and the smooth side of his nails back up her rib-cage. Touching until he's got the shelf of her face in his palm and those talons extend. Wrapping around hair to hold her, the bucking of his hips keeping up with an elongated rhythm.]
[It's then that he shoves a nose to her ear, moving his torso vertically to meet. An awkward angle, but it doesn't seem to bother him in the slightest. He merely snatches the bottom half of her ear in his teeth, tapping the edge of his claws down her cheek.]
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Like this, she's unaware of him looking at her, reacting to her, even as she reacts to him. It's been too long -- and for that it might be her undoing. All that matters to her, is fitting herself against him, whining softly when he left her empty, and sighing when he pressed back in.
This, all of this, she had no word for. She had no place doing this at all. But it was right to her, that they did all of it against earth and sky, and no one else. Better than being married, here she could be herself, rather than the priests watching, muttering prayers like it would ensure that she would get with child. She had no idea what it was like to be bedded for the sake of state, and she never would -- God willing, she never would.
It was more amusing to think how he would fare, with a priest and court watching. ]
Greed. [ A sharp word at how he twisted her, surprised by it momentarily. It slips her out of rhythm with him for a moment. Because his teeth were at her ear, his fingers tugging at her hair and so much like a doll as she twisted around him. The shudder making her back arch as she moved that little more insistently against him. The next stroke up, and she brought herself down that little harder, whole body clenching a little, her shoulders tense and her lips opened to a moan to echo the growl she felt rumble in his chest more than she heard.
But more than that -- and God forbid she should not be welcoming to any part of him -- her head turned that little bit, to press her lips against his claw. Hardly bothered by the black that crawled along and covered him, wondering if it tasted different to his skin. Her eyes open just enough to watch him react. Watching the blackness that shifted like a living thing on his body. Where his hand cupped the dip of her hip, the flex of his muscles as he moved with her. The contrast of all that dark against her white skin. ]
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[But back then, things had been different and he had been another sort of monster. His history darker now than he presented. Made in blood with a slow-strut to the altar and Hell followed with him.]
[But Greed was himself - he was just that. Avaricious, the title befitting the name, and he left it all behind for the pursuit of his own happiness. Which was a twisted reflection and even here, there's something off. The sex not between lovers, but business partners and oh, would he just smile and smile at any sort of pastor that may have gave him presence.]
[Instead, though, Greed grins at her. Turns lips against one another and presses them still.]
[Silently, he opens up his hand when she kisses it out. Showing her all his daggers, all his weapons, and he's entirely made for mass destruction.] Go ahead - I won't hurt you, lovely.
[The Sin can't help when he purrs out his words. His name is on her lips and when she turns, he turns. Following, two snakes to snare each other in the cruelest sort of mating ritual.]
[But unlike what may have been - what could have been and what so many seemed to want - he couldn't give her that. The next line of kings and that would have to be saved for something else. That didn't mean Greed didn't take pleasure in the moment. He had other intentions and they called just for the feeling of it. Grinding his hips against her own, threatening to crack and split one another.]
[Greed gives her his shoulder then, slipping his claws away as his knuckles thicken. Black like ink and the tips are as sharp as any quill - sinking into one of the arrays caressing over the dip of his shoulder. He drags his nails there, showing her just where to go - where the wicked-electric begins with a spark to ignite and he's the red-light district in every sense of the word.]
[How the light touches his face, how it seems to turn eerie purples bloody. But he's not the sort for violence - not here and certainly not with his company and he removes his nails as the lines mend. As his core flickers across his shoulder to seal it off completely.]
[He swipes the blood off with flick, letting the last dregs of a spark dance on his tongue. Before it's all clean and slick and wet. A new sort of instrument and he falls away from her violently. Letting his shoulder blades fan out across the dirt, making a hollow thud and his feet find anchor. The sound of his defenses rising where toes ought to be and he sinks his second set into the earth. Uses it as leverage to push himself deeper, to raise her higher.]
[And his knuckle slides between spread thighs - her own and his - caressing where his cock ends and she begins. His smile vicious, but knowing.]
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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. ]
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[It was, is, and would be why he always turned tail from the rest of kin.]
[He laughs, though, when she struggles to make words. When they're jumbled and it's the sweetest kind of payout. The whole pile of chips to run through his knuckles and he pulls himself out completely. Only to shove himself in deeper, slowly, savoring the moment. While his finger unfurls and Greed strokes to the beat. As if in an afterthought.] Oh-? Didn't think that really mattered here, lovely.
[But he offers his lips instead. His own throat more suitable than cries shoved to the proverbial pillow and the Sin takes her mouth with his. Tongue to prod, following the gesture of his grinding hips. Smothering her with all the heat she so desperately wants and he lifts with his thighs. With his heels. Up and down, in and out. Letting her ride as hard as she wants, but he'll torture as good as the rest.]
[She hasn't said no - hasn't told him to stop. Nothing but that need saying more than any worries she may have and Greed can't help his grin. It's the cat that's got all the cream and oh, does it just pour and pour and pour.]
[One finger's followed by a second. And a third. Running from the hidden bend and away and he's caressing her hip, dragging knuckles across her bones. Until he dips to where his stomach meets and muscles tense. Giving him room to slip between her legs, grabbing her sex between two splayed-fingers and he pinches there. Rolls, jerks, and twists.]
[Oh, he'll take. She only needed to ask.]
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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. ]
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[They're both far too gone for that.]
[But she's got a country to think about - not that Greed really cares and he should have seen the bite at his shoulder coming. He 'tsks' with his teeth peeled apart, tilting his head away so that she can have at it. It'll heal anyway and what's a few brief marks between good ol'chums.] And what's the point of a ruler if you're still thinking that small?
[Queen, king, emperor: it didn't mean shit to him. His avarice ran far too deep, like wires through the underground and on and on it went. To him, land was good, money was better, but ruling the entire world?]
[Is so much sweeter.]
[Though, he just leaves it at that. For now, at least, and instead chooses to run his fingers a bit harder, driving them down where her sex dips and he begins. Greed pinches once, if not just to tease, while his other hand makes claws at her back. A crackle of noise, the sound easy enough to recognize by now, and he's got the smooth side of his talons riding the bumps of her spine. The bucks of her hips.]
Mn - take it easy, Elizabeth. [The Queen is desperate to conquer, always. But he just isn't the kind that can be - not even his own flesh and blood had the power to do it and she certainly doesn't. But those thighs squeeze oh-so-good and Greed's got no shame in hiding it. How much he likes when she rides him, when she bites him. When she tries so damn hard.]
[So, he opens his lips. Lets her hear a grunt or two - feral, obscene. Though, he's never made any notion to the contrary.]