poly_chromatic | (no subject)

[A huff of breath, a faint flush creeping around his throat. He would agree to just about anything to have what he wants. The follow-through thereafter was questionable, but,]

Soft and slick.

[Heated. Not cruel at all, but that wasn't the secret.]

My lips are sealed.

[She finally pushes onto him, her mouth opening]

Beg, little bird.

[His shoulders tense, head going back, long neck exposed. There is something to his expression that suggests he is listening to something, perhaps his other half shrieking across town. He licks his lips thoughtfully before panting, inviting,]

You'll take me [Us.] won't you?

[He isn't ashamed to be dominated, not in the least.]

Until I can't breathe, can't think. [His hands settle lightly on her hips, touching without any attempt to direct.] All the way under the skin, please.

[She moves her hips, now, riding against him, her fingers going to her shirt and undoing the top buttons. She moves as if she was born to do this, hitting against him, hot and tight]

I'll take you both, if you keep being so pretty.

[The tops of her breasts are visible now]

[His purr is all human, sound vibrating in his throat an chest. It was never just about the sex, there was always the element of being lost inside someone else that entranced them. The same rhythm, breath and blood and squelch.

Or it used to, before the feminine half found herself dead and broken and changed.]

The prettiest, Saya.

[His voice is a little tight, but lilting. His hand follows up her side, wonders if she'll lean back down once she's shaken off her shirt, let him put his pretty mouth to her skin.]

[Her breasts finally come into view as she pulls her shirt off, and she moves so they pop out of the cups of her bra. She does lean down, then, her necklaces hitting his face first, cold and metallic]

I would take you apart if I could, keep everything cold and perfect and preserved, but I think someone beat me to it.

[She puts her mouth to his ear, then]

Is she screaming?

[He puts his arms around her back, tracing out her spine with his fingertips, tracing out her jaw with the tip of his tongue. It's a moan when he answers,]

He kept her perfectly.

[And she loved it. And she hated it. She hates this now, loves the piercing horror of it even as it turns her stomach.]

She is shrieking, she is snarling. She is rending. [He swallows, gives a stuttered little gasp before asking,] Will you, will you touch her wounds?

I'm not so possessive. I would break his arms.

[She bites against his neck, lightly, not breaking the skin, and then roughly, breaking it]

I already am.

[Ample opportunity had been before her.]

They need breaking. She can't do it.

[He grins, laughing breathlessly as his hips press underneath her.]

Very clever. What about ugly, wet, and red?

I can.

[She bucks down, and her mouth goes to his chest, his nipples, her back arching. Her hands move up his sides, her rings scratching]

Hn. [More cold laughter, this time stifled by the share of tension.] Just like that.

[His faintly dusky skin is warming under her quickly, taking on a subtle and attractive flush. His fingers make it to her hair, threading his fingers through it loosely, letting them slip free again. Soft and beautiful, not cruel at all, of course, of course.]

[Her rings scratch and so do her nails, like the scratched Blonde's back, Carla's thighs, just days before. Her mouth tugs and tugs at the skin of his neck, his ears, his chest; always hard enough to bruise, never to break.

Saya's human teeth don't have venom, but there's no sense in being stupid.]

Are you close?

[She's the first to touch him in a long time Everything is tense and sensitive, shrilling loudly under his skin. It's wonderful.]

It almost hurts.

[An affirmative and a compliment in this sad little spirit's vernacular.]

I want you to come first.

[She moves her hands to his face, his mouth, as if to emphasize them]

I want to make you clean up, I should have made Carla do that. Have Blonde come in me and made Carla finish the job. But you.

That's what you'll do.

[He bites lightly at her fingers, nothing like what he does to Carla, and he certainly seems to like the idea. The longer he keeps it in his head, the more unbearable he finds the pull of his hips.

The final moment is so full-bodied and languid with him, he was not constrained in any way, was far too eager to feel the ripple of sensation from head to toe. Even before he's gotten his breath back, he's answering her in between panting breaths,]

Yes, Saya.

[She laughs when he comes, and pulls away, moving so she's resting back against the open door, her legs open. She still has her heels on, and even undone she looks perfectly at ease, composed.]

I like the sound of that.

[The bird rolls after her, pausing only long enough to mouth wetly up the side of one of her bare calves. He is an enthusiastic thing with boundless energy. The smell of the car--rubber tires, leather seats, gas tank--has been an interesting additive, but it suits her.

His instructions already given, deft and slender fingers are the first to touch her, to take a taste of the honey. If there were not such a good probability of staining the passenger's seat, he might have lifted her onto it. Instead, he wraps an arm around her thigh, putting her at a new angle and breathing against the inseam of her leg.

He had promised he was a very clever bird with a very clever mouth, he certainly won't disappoint.]

[The spider in her has always been a little afraid of birds, but this, this is perfect, exquisite. She lets him angle her the way he wants, lets him touch her. Her clitoris is bright red and swollen.]

You submit so well.

[His mouth is occupied so she speaks while he uses it.]

Next time, I'll make Carla watch. I'll have Blonde tie her hands above her head, or maybe I'll do it, and I'll fuck him on top of her. I'll tell her all about how you had your mouth between my legs, how it felt, and how if she can't do it better than you did, she won't-

[Saya arches, then, lets the orgasm run it's course, and looks over at him. Her eyes are darker than usual. She finally looks undone; finally.]

[He stares back at her, smiling faintly as he licks his lips.]

She won't?

[He wants to hear the end of that story, Saya. Just how soft and sweet will you be to her?]

Come.

[The word is softer than her last words have been.]

You're not done. Do me up.

[She means her shirt, and her skirt.]

[He gives her an amused look, but he does submit terribly well for such a willful pest. The top of each breast receives a kiss from him before her bra is hitched back into place. Quick, warm hands follow to her shirt and its buttons.]

He won't just take pity on her?

[He knows perfectly well that relationship is built on something other than pity but it doesn't stop him from barbing at Carla anyway.]

Like always.

[Saya bends her legs back and gets up. She'll need to change into a skirt that isn't stretched out, but for now it'll do.]

Do you think she'll fail?

Of course.

[Didn't she always. Every day she continued to breathe was a day she was too cowardly to take her own life. His smile is brief and nasty. He fixes the jeans hang from his hips, they probably were Carla's.]

Hope springs eternal.

He won't take pity. I won't let him.

Promise?

[A terrible brat, that bird.]

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synanthrope - 2012-01-29 05:34 (UTC) - Expand

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featherstorn - 2012-01-29 05:36 (UTC) - Expand