wiedzminka | ❧ IC INBOX: Abraxas

[ Her hips twitch, and shudder when he focuses there. Voice thick with desire, she answers breathlessly, embarrassment giving way increasingly to need. ]

All of it.

[ She blurts out without thinking, before her brain seems to catch up at least a little with her tongue. ]

I want-- to feel your mouth on me.

[ If that's an option, if he's really asking her to choose-- ]

[He could give her all of it. Spend time moving from one to the other, making certain she’s satisfied with it all in the interim — but maybe, at this point, taking too much time is just torturous for them both. The increasing need flares in parallel, she chooses, and Sephiroth obliges.

His hand moves from between her legs, but only so far as to deal with her trousers, easing them down her body until they’ll no longer be in the way. When she’s exposed to him, he shifts down to give himself room, but then dips lower to kiss at an inside thigh as he encourages her to part her legs for him. She feels warm beneath his lips.]

Like this?

[(No, he knows not completely like this. His mouth will end up elsewhere.)]

[ Ciri may have forgotten about her clothing, and his tugging at her trousers suddenly reminds her she's still partially trapped by them. It's only a few moments to help him peel them the rest of the way down her legs, where he'll have to do a little more tugging and fenagling to get them untucked from her boots, which she doesn't bother kicking off. Ciri scoots up a bit further on the bed, letting her legs continue to dangle off the side but giving him more room. Spreading her thighs with a shiver of anticipation to let him get between them.

It's a little cold -- it is still winter, even in the desert -- but despite the goosebumps prickling her thighs, she doesn't seem to notice. It might be more excitement than the chill. Almost certainly is, when his lips touch the inside of her thigh, and she shivers again, entranced by the feeling.

Her face, at least, is hot enough. Probably, it's a good thing they're being pushed along at least a little, even if she hasn't fully realized the effects -- or the feeling of being suddenly so bare like this, somewhere entirely strange, would be a little more alarming. As it is, she can't find the will to care more than a mild flutter of embarrassment, the sort that's on the same side as excitement more than shame. ]

Mm-hm. That... feels good. [ Ciri mumbles, encouraging, without demanding more yet.

Her legs splay wider, knees lifted, and she balances the heels of her boots on the very edge of the mattress.

Sephiroth will find her thighs and lower legs slashed with old scars, and perhaps a few newer ones. Long stripes from blades, in various severity. Jagged, raised marks from claws and teeth.

And high on the inside of her left thigh, a tattoo of a single red rose. ]

[Without the little push that bolsters them to a certain degree, too much awareness would sink in. The foreign space, belonging to people they don’t know; the situation just outside. Sephiroth’s willingness to explore her body in ways belying a confidence that wouldn’t be present otherwise.

But they can overthink it later. He certainly isn’t overthinking it now. After finagling off her trousers (the boots remain), after the kiss plush against her thigh, he takes in the sight she’s displaying to him. The scars that tell stories he’s not privy to, marked against her skin, some that look newer than others.

And, of course, the marking of a rose tattoo on her inner left thigh more poignant than the rest. Sephiroth can’t help himself — he draws the pad of his thumb against the design.]

And what's this?

[ She doesn't have to look to know what he means, when he touches it and she remembers what is there. So few have seen it, let alone touched it, since--

Ciri lets out a soft noise, this time not of pleasure. An uncertain, shaky breath, just barely voiced. ]

A memory.

[ She moves her leg, not quite away, but perhaps in a small attempt to pull his attention from it for now. Before the uncertainty can take hold fully, Ciri reaches down to brush her fingertips against his hair. Keep herself in the moment. ]

I don't want to think about the past when you're here with me now.

Edited 2023-01-18 22:16 (UTC)

[He's not so curious that the signs of her reticence go unnoticed. Though it means that there's a story behind the tattoo—a someone more than a something, he wonders?—the way she subtly shifts her leg away, her fingers redirecting focus and sensation into his hair, is more than enough to shelve the conversation for now. If it’s a memory she ever wishes to share.

He hums in accedence, moving his hand away, sliding it up to rest on her hip. Instead, he turns his head to place a kiss on the opposite thigh, then rests his cheek against the warmth of her skin, just feeling her fingertips for now.]

Only the present, then. No memories for now.

[ Any worry she had that he might push, or maybe even lose interest, dissipates immediately with the surety of his response, the way he redirects his attention. Ciri breathes out, relaxing again and only then realizing how tense her chest had felt.

Her fingers brush through his hair, nails scratching gently. ]

Yes. That sounds very good.

[He takes only a moment longer to enjoy the sensation of her nails, wondering vaguely what it might feel like to have her grip his hair a little tighter--

But, well. Maybe he'll know sooner rather than later. For now, he dips his head up, gazes at her from this angle, and shifts forward just enough to graze his lips more against her inside thigh, perilously close to that heated spot between her legs.

Yet he's already slowed them down, and that impatience is burgeoning again, telling him that he doesn't want to make either of them wait for much longer. He brings his mouth against her folds, at first kissing as though he was kissing her thigh just a moment ago. His tongue laves, though, a half-moment later, seeking to taste her.]

Mmh--

[ Ciri makes a muffled noise, biting her lip. Her head falls back again, eyes closed; her knees and thighs open wider.

The feeling of him between her legs makes her heart race, that warmth of his breath when he nears raising goosebumps along her inner thighs. She shivers, and gasps again when his tongue follows, soft and slick and hot. He'll find her already wet for him, flushed a dark pink.

The heat travels up, fills her belly, floods her face. That vulnerable, exposed feeling is almost too much, embarrassing and a little scary, but exciting too. ]

Edited 2023-01-25 21:45 (UTC)

[She’s already so wet, and that excites him, too. Sephiroth hums a sound of approval, one she would feel as much as hear, and he can only assume the fact she’s splaying herself wider for him is an urging for more.

He slides his arms beneath the arch of her legs, whatever leeway she gives him, so he can touch, too. Fingers moving up her sides, caressing in-time with the movement of his mouth — another long, lingering kiss, then the trail of his tongue moving up just a bit higher.

One more, pressing plush against the bud of her clit. It’s light, wanting to tease and gauge her reaction more than anything else for now.]

[ When she realizes what he wants, Ciri lifts her hips slightly, just enough to allow him to get his arms under her legs. The additional touch is welcomed eagerly, makes her feel more secure somehow-- not just her lying on the bed allowing him to put his mouth on her, but something more entangled, more intimate. He'll be able to feel her body twitch in response to his ministrations, waist arching beneath his hands. There are scars on her sides, the most prominent a slash as from a sword just above her right hip, and another on the left side along her ribs, both long-healed, pale and raised.

She lets out another noise when he tongues her clit, a startled little inhale, sharp enough it's almost a squeak. ]

Th-there--

[ As if he doesn't know. It spills out of her involuntarily, as if afraid he'll move away. ]

[His fingertips glide against the lines of marred skin where old scars lay, tracing their path where he can. Were he more focused on them, he might be able to tell from the shape of it alone what kind of wound it once was, the bite of steel piercing skin.

But he isn’t. Sephiroth is far more attentive to her reactions, the way she angles her hips just so, pressed up harder against his tongue. There, she says, and as always, he is quick to comply — he laves against her clit for a moment more, before his lips then seal over her in a sucking kiss.

His heart thumps so hard in his chest he practically wonders if she can hear it, too.]

Fffuck-- [ she swears under her breath, hips jumping.

Her fingers tighten in his hair, holding on hard to a fistful close to his scalp as her breathing escalates, faster and louder. ]

❧ IC INBOX: Abraxas

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