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+---- Thread: Nudely Interrupted (/showthread.php?tid=12114)
RE: Nudely Interrupted - Kaisel - 10-30-2025
The sound of his name hurtles after him, the one she only uses when she's fed up in some shape or another, and it cracks his focus in half, grin crashing through. He meant to outrun her Edward Cullen style. Very fast, dramatic, and sincere about the whole thing. Laughter keeps shaking through him with nearly every stride though, a stitch forming under his ribs far too early given the short distance, and he's positive she's gaining on him. He even has half a channel brewing in his back pocket to help him out, though given her attire and LongNight's limitations, it's better he doesn't need to pull on that particular card this time.
He is surprised though, spinning around to face her as water collides blue and bright against his feet, victorious and suspicious. It's just enough time to inhale before she thuds into him, staggering them both further back into the spray of salt and pretend stars. Where she grabs onto him, he mirrors, catching her by the sides and spinning her once, a trail of neon igniting where her feet skim the sea, before his idiot grin gives in entirely. He leans down, pressing a kiss against that clever mouth of hers, a hum of appreciation swallowing her laughter and her false defeat.
[say]"All that running you always boast about,"[/say] he manages to drawl against the corner of her lips, tilting away between laughs, [say]"so strange that it didn't do you any good just now."[/say] His words melt into another kiss, purposefully trying to bury her retort in her chest. Another wave tumbles in, catching on their legs with brilliance, a flare that rises and fades around them. He draws back just far enough to look at her, thumbs sweeping back at forth at her sides, heat rising swifter than he can keep it back now that it feels like the parties are distant and it's just them lost in the dark. [say]"Better hurry or you're going to have a hell of a hook in the way."[/say] A girthy hook.
RE: Nudely Interrupted - Flora - 10-30-2025
Flora’s laughter tangles in the air between them, half breathless and half drowned in the crash of the waves. She’s trying to find her footing—trying to find anything really—but then his mouth meets hers, and the entire world just folds away. The sea, the lights, the air itself, all of it vanishes under the heat of Kaisel's kiss. Her mind empties until there’s nothing but the taste of salt and him, and the way his hands hold her like they were carved to fit.
She tries to answer him—tries to breathe out some smug, "yeah, so strange"—but each attempt melts into another kiss, her laughter swallowed by him instead. When she does manage a shaky inhale, her nails trail softly up and down his sides, barely-there scratches that trace along muscle and rib.
When he pulls back, she stays close, breath still mingling with his. The glow of the bioluminescence and the fires from the beach paint him in split tones: blue across one cheek, red across the other, with a violet band running through the middle where light and heat blur. The sight of him like that—half ocean, half flame—robs her of every thought that isn’t about closing the distance again. The water’s cooler here, a reminder against her skin, but the warmth rolling off him is stronger, drawing her in.
Instead, she drops.
It’s an intentional kind of surrender, the kind wrapped in laughter and challenge both. Her knees sink into the wet sand, her curls tumbling forward as she looks up at him with a smirk. [say]"A hook, huh?"[/say] she murmurs, voice low and teasing. Her palms flatten against his thighs, sliding slowly upward until her nails graze skin. She nips lightly at the muscle there, her grin audible in the breath that follows, then tugs at the edge of his boxers with her teeth, pulling one side down just enough to bare the sharp cut of his hip.
Shifting to the other side, she repeats the gesture, deliberate and playful, until she’s certain she’s dragged the fabric over the curve of his ass. Rising higher on her knees, she glances up at him through the wild tangle of her hair, fire and sea dancing across her skin in molten colour. Then, catching the waistband between her teeth by taking advantage of where the muscles on this lower stomach and hips create a natural indent, she gives it a teasing tug, pulling out and down to avoid any hooks, girthy or otherwise, with slow precision until the boxers are pooled around his thighs.
Her brow arches, smile curving sweet and wicked. [say]"That’s as far as you took my pants off,"[/say] she points out, tone dripping with smug amusement as her fingers rest lightly against his legs, eyes glinting with every ounce of affection and mischief she has to give.
RE: Nudely Interrupted - Kaisel - 10-30-2025
He has to hand it to her, there is something about kissing her on a beach that's quickly climbing towards the top of the list. The sound of the surf roaring, the sparking of the waves against their calves, the drag of the sand beneath their feet, it all echoes and magnifies the intensity of kissing her. The way his pulse thrums up behind his ears at her touch, the electric buzz where their lips meet, the way the world slides away and leaves only her in the center of it all. Kissing her is the beach.
He's just decided they'll have to go kiss in every environment they can reach and rank them all when she's then fading out of view and reach. He almost regrets not just slamming his boxers down if it means losing her for the affair of it all, almost. Instead, he tilts his head down, following the retreat of her to his waist. If kissing her had been this low-tide magic of bioluminescence, then what comes next is the swell of something fiercer.
Hunger twitches like a separate, living thing wherever she touches along his legs, jolting through his core with teeth when her own graze over him. It's effort to bear witness to her work and not reach down to just take her, but he doesn't want to disrupt her either, and the conflict instead forces out as a hiss of want as she shifts the fabric away.
When she looks up through her tangled crown, it's impossible to stand by. Unable to keep his hands to themselves any longer he reaches down to grab either side of her jaw, pulling her back up to height with care that undermines all the rougher thoughts rising with the tide of his arousal. [say]"It's perfect,"[/say] he murmurs around the rough press of his mouth to her neck, absently kicking the rest of his boxers away with his legs as his lips dote over her skin in unrestrained affection. All the while he moves them both slowly further into the tide, each vibrant splash a creeping chill that doesn't reach beyond the heat she's put into him. [say]"You're right, it does seem dangerous to be here at night,"[/say] the low edge of his voice suggesting that she's the only thing he's in danger of here. Although, gods, he hopes the sharks are sleeping.
RE: Nudely Interrupted - Flora - 10-30-2025
For a heartbeat, when his fingertips graze her cheek, Flora’s breath catches. The intent in his touch hums with too many possibilities, and for one dizzy moment she’s certain he means to guide her somewhere far more wicked than up. She wouldn’t have minded, of course, but then his hands cradle her jaw instead, drawing her slowly to her feet, the thought dissolves into a rush of warmth as his mouth finds her skin.
A smile spills across her lips, soft and dazzled, as her arms loop around his neck. Her body curves naturally into him, arching as he moves them both deeper into the surf. The cold hits first—a quick, bright shock—but then the world adjusts, and the sea wraps around them like silk. The chill never stands a chance against the heat rolling off him, or the way his lips still wander, unhurried, over her throat.
The water breaks against them in shimmering ribbons of blue, and gods, he looks incredible in it. The glow from the bioluminescence clings to his skin, tracing the lines of his muscles, the sharp definition of his chest and shoulders, the cut of his jaw when he looks down at her. It turns every movement into something mythic, something holy; he looks less like a man and more like some sea-born god sculpted from salt and starlight, and she can’t take her eyes off him.
[say]"Mmm,"[/say] she hums her agreement against his mouth, teeth catching gently at his lower lip. The water swells up to her thighs, cool and bright, but all she feels is him. [say]"It can be super dangerous,"[/say] she whispers, voice half-mocking, half breathless. [say]"Riptides can come along at any moment and drag you right out to sea."[/say] She presses closer still, her curves sliding against his body, skin slick and glowing in the water’s light. Her lips ghost against his, words a soft, teasing murmur that trembles with affection. [say]"That’s why,"[/say] she says, her smile blooming against his mouth, [say]"it’s so important to have something to hold onto."[/say]
RE: Nudely Interrupted - Kaisel - 10-30-2025
A low chuckle rolls over on a breath, more surrender to the devious desires of what else her mouth could pull on than actual humor. [say]"That sounds very serious,"[/say] he sighs along the shell of her ear, head tilting further down her neck as he seems to consider his options for a moment. His lips murmur with the deep thought of it all, featherlight as they skim across her shoulder. [say]"Where do you think would be best to hold onto?"[/say] His hands begin a firm wander from her sides up to her chest, palms cupping the weight of each breast. [say]"Here?"[/say] he asks, the question light and curious while his fingers splay and roll one after the other across her nipples.
[say]"Hmmm,"[/say] he wonders, mouth trailing across her collarbone, breath warm as it puffs against her bare skin. One hand is on the move again, gliding down the curve of her stomach, toned with all her training, each slope blooming in blue with the ocean's heartbeat. His fingers continue lower still, nearly at risk of becoming soaked as they slide between her thighs, slow and methodical with the sinking touch. He doesn't dip his hand lower than needed though, just his middle finger long enough to curl and reach her clit, where he gently taps and rolls with the punctuation of each word. [say]"Or, maybe it should be here?"[/say]
His head rises as he nibbles a path back up her neck, hands withdrawing to the anchor of her hips again. [say]"Just want to make sure we get to the rafts safely,"[/say] he assures, offering something for her to grab onto as he presses in firmly against her side.
RE: Nudely Interrupted - Flora - 10-31-2025
The sound of his voice near her ear—low, coaxing, steeped in heat—draws a slow breath from Flora’s lips, her eyes fluttering shut as warmth curls through her like melted sugar. The sea kisses her thighs in cool pulses, each wave a whisper of contrast against the steady heat rolling off of him. Every place they touch sizzles; the shape of his hands, the drag of his breath across her shoulder, even the faintest graze of his mouth feels magnified by the water and the dark and the way the laughter from the distant beach feels like it’s happening in another world entirely.
She’s about to answer, to tell him he needs to hold on tight to something, when his hands cup her breasts and his fingers do that against her nipples, and the words collapse in her throat. A shaky gasp is all that escapes as his palms tease her to attention, the mischief she’d been riding on moments ago slipping from her limbs like sand through a sieve.
As his voice dips lower, and the sound of it—that deep hum, half amusement and half intent—turns her bones to something molten. Her breath stutters as his hand glides down her stomach, the smooth plane of muscle tensing beneath his touch as her fingers flinch against his shoulder as he touches her. Her hips shift instinctively—forward, slow, like maybe it was just the tide, maybe not—as his finger rolls over her clit in maddening, perfect rhythm. The moan that leaves her is soft and breathy, barely a sound but enough to echo between them. Just like that, he’s unravelled her. In three touches and a hum, he’s stripped her of all her slyness and left her pliant in his hands, and gods does she love that he can do that to her.
When his hand leaves her, a soft sound of protest slips past her lips, cut short only because she’s biting it back. Her fingers trail from the scarring on his back and into the base of his hair, curling there as she lifts her face to his. The firelight and ocean-glow paint his eyes in copper and blue, and when she meets them, she grins, slow, sly, hungry. [say]"I’m a very strong swimmer,"[/say] she purrs, as if to suggest she didn't need the rafts. Or maybe there was just something else hard and wooden she wanted to hold onto instead.
Her other hand drifts downward, fingers scratching gently along his side, mapping out the familiar terrain of his muscle until her palm finds him. The head of his cock is warm against her hand, and she presses her palm flat there for a moment of teasing resistance before her fingers ghost teasingly down the shaft, far too featherlight to be anything other than maddening.
[say]"Come on,"[/say] she whispers, voice dripping with invitation, and then she’s backing away, stepping deeper into the sea, the blue-lit water rippling around her hips. Her hand remains around him, featherlight, trailing with her as she retreats—and if he wants her hand to stay wrapped around him, he'll have to follow.
RE: Nudely Interrupted - Kaisel - 10-31-2025
He'd pick her up if he had any hope of wading much further into the water without drowning them both like that, his hand turning into sea otter grip on her ass. Instead, he's got to agonizingly withdraw from her, the island of the rafts requiring some seafaring first. He'd prefer to spend his time drawing out more of those small sounds, teasing them out properly, dragging pleasure through her like a punishment until neither of them can bear it. But, while they've gotten to the skinny part of the night, the dipping awaits.
His head tips down under the swirl of her fingers, catching the full spread of her devious confidence. [say]"Oh, I have no doubt,"[/say] and though he's not surprised, he's expecting her point to be that she doesn't need to hold onto a damn thing, and his unspoken little offer will go playfully ignored for now. He could not be more wrong, though it makes the shift of her hand to his side more heightened in that first moment of wonder.
Near ticklish where she skips her touch over him, his skin shivers wildly in response, breath catching in the back of his throat. He hasn't dropped her gaze, and that smug glint he catches in the corner of her eye is one that tempts him to abandon all thought entirely. Which, is precisely the last thought he has the moment her hand tilts against him. His hips buck insinctively at the heat of her palm, a grunt puffing free of his chest, entirely weak to her. [say]"Gods, I want you,"[/say] he murmurs, grip pressing in on her sides as her hand shifts to curl around him, nothing more than a whisper of touch. He instantly craves more, aching for contact, each sprinkle of it sending a throb that he feels in the tips on his ears.
She turns fully siren though, and little better than a dog on a leash now, he trails after her, loathe to lose the halo of her hand. The water is happy to accept them, breaking across her in a backsplash of drowned starlight. Maybe it's the fact she's got a hold of his cock, but she has surely never looked more perfect than this, each wave dressing her in oceanic divinity. [say]"You're a goddess,"[/say] he breaths, gasping as the sea nips up his waist, submerging her handhold. [say]"I'll follow your lead,"[/say] he offers, knowing in the next step they'll need to do more than frolic in the waves.
RE: Nudely Interrupted - Flora - 11-01-2025
The moment his voice breaks, a flush blooms hot and dark across Flora’s cheeks, even if the night hides it from view. It melts through her like wildfire catching on dry leaves, blooming out in every direction. Her grip tightens around him instinctively, fingers curling firm around his cock in answer, and gods, if any of the demigods had even an ounce of creation magic, she’d be channelling them to conjure her a floating waterbed right here and now.
His hand grips her side and she leans into it, no flinch, no hesitation. They haven’t talked about what it yet, the way his hands sometimes speak in possession and how much she enjoys it, but no part of her pulls away. She wants it, wants him, and as the water curls up around her waist, the sea welcoming them back like it’s in on the secret, Flora feels like the whole world is waiting for them to fall.
When he calls her a goddess, she smiles against the dark, eyes glinting beneath dark lashes. [say]"Not a goddess,"[/say] she murmurs, shaking her head as her voice drops into something low and wanting, [say]"just yours."[/say]
A wave lifts her then, just enough, and with a breathless laugh she releases her hold on him—not without a parting stroke—and lets the ocean bring her flush against his chest. Her arms wrap around his neck as she floats up into him, legs trailing behind her, body weightless but aching. Her stomach presses hot against his, skin-to-skin and slick with salt and lust, and she stretches up to kiss him.
It’s not gentle; there’s no softness left in her now, just the pull of her lips and the flick of her tongue and the greedy scrape of her teeth, kissing him like she’s trying to drink the heat from his mouth. Her hips roll against his beneath the water, the friction muted but maddening, and she wants more—needs more—but there’s nowhere to go.
The rafts drift just out of reach, cruelly distant, and the ocean around them makes her feel untethered; floating, free, feral with need. The weightlessness is dizzying, the feel of Kaisel’s body against hers exquisite and maddening all at once. Every shift of her hips, every brush of his skin beneath her palms, sparks with unbearable pleasure. And still, still, it’s not enough. She would give up half of Floratopolis if it meant he could pin her somewhere right now; against driftwood, the shore, the fucking moon, anything.
Flora stays on her toes as long as she can, arms locked around Kaise's neck and her mouth still chasing his. But the sand slips out beneath her and the ocean claims her legs, and with a reluctant, breathy moan, she’s forced to let go. Her fingers trail down his chest as she floats backward, pulse thundering, lips parted in a dazed, want-drunk smile.
RE: Nudely Interrupted - Kaisel - 11-01-2025
His. The idea has never really come to him, always feeling like she is her own force of nature that he's lucky enough to behold, more than anything. That whatever they have between them is something shared, fed by each of them in turn. Hearing her say it though, especially as the sea threatens to take her, the notion gleams fresh and right in his chest. [say]"Mine,"[/say] he growls out in agreement, the parting trail of her touch sharpening the word.
In response, the ocean gives her back, for now. She presses in and he draws her closer still, palms sliding up higher, cinching in near the side of each breast as his fingers splay around her back. The warm feel of her squished against him, impossibly light as she bobs among the salt and laughter, it sinks into his want and rips it further open. There's no need for her to stretch, his hands are already gathering her up to meet his mouth, urgently trying to satisfy the wild craving for her that's running rampant through him now.
It's a start, kissing her, especially when they're each trying to reach into each other's souls with the process. It turns the teeth of need into just a nip, or maybe that's actually her teeth on him, maybe his teeth on her, hard to say at this point. He just knows it doesn't snuff out the feeling entirely, and so he begs her for more, tugging the contact between them like he's starving. [say]"Fuck,"[/say] he hisses as her hips jolt against him beneath the water, a long groan dragging out like this is all undue punishment.
[say]"I think,"[/say] he breathes, tilting his forehead to hers as one hand abandons its vice around her back to border her ass. [say]"This might be one of my worst ideas actually,"[/say] and it's clear why, as he holds her lower back firm, cock teasing up her thigh in a useless endeavor that only teases them each deeper into madness. It's even more clear why, when they're each inevitably yanked deeper, the ocean not so kind as to let them linger too long on the border of depth and security.
He sighs, longing breaking around a wave that pushes him out with her. He inhales sharply, then dives beneath the next roll of surf, hoping perhaps he'd find a grip on himself before he hauls them both ashore, uses her compass, and fucks her in the dark of her office dripping wet. Which, even underwater, doesn't seem like such a bad idea.
He pops up beside her with a neon splash, no better off than before, and shakes the water from his face with a grin. [say]"In Floratopolis, we definitely need to build more beds and lounges into the city and whatever coast it borders."[/say]
RE: Nudely Interrupted - Flora - 11-01-2025
The sound of mine in his voice—gravelled and low, carved right from his chest—strikes something dangerous and tender inside her. Flora’s breath catches, the word blooming like fire in her lungs, reckless promises forming on her tongue before she can stop them. Promises of forever and always, declared right now, as easy as breathing. As right as waves kissing the shore. But instead of speaking them, she pours them into the kiss, kissing him like it might translate into language, like maybe he’ll feel it in the way her mouth parts for him, in the way her hands slide up around his shoulders and lock him close like she never wants to let go. Because she doesn't.
And gods, she’s so turned on by Kaisel it’s almost unbearable. It's the kind of ache that spreads everywhere at once; sharp in her chest, deep in her belly, coiling through every nerve. Her skin hums with it, and every brush of his cock against her thigh makes it worse, especially when there’s nothing to be done about it out here. They’re both floating on the edge of madness, and the water doesn’t care. The ocean keeps them weightless, wanting, just barely out of reach.
When his forehead presses to hers, when his hand finds her ass and he holds her just right, Flora breathes out a breathless laugh, her voice warm in the space between them. [say]"I kind of love wanting you like this,"[/say] she whispers, neither shy nor apologetic. Her fingers thread through his hair, gripping lightly, a wordless underscore to the wild tension between them. She shifts just enough to catch his cock between her thighs as her nails trail down his back and settle over the familiar scarring there.
Her lips find the shell of his ear, her words husky and light all at once. [say]"I love wanting you this badly and not being able to do anything about it,"[/say] she murmurs, her breath brushing the hair at his temple. Her thighs press tighter, slowly, rhythmically, just to tease the friction back into place. [say]" Because it makes me think about all the ways you could take me, all the ways I could have you, if we were anywhere else."[/say] She shivers against him—not from the cold, but from the flood of heat and thrill that skitters across her skin; breath coming harder now as her mind spins with images she wants to say out loud, but barely keeps to herself.
As the water tugs them apart and the tide claims her legs and she has to let go, she floats backward with a sigh that’s equal parts arousal and longing. Her toes curl against the seafloor just before it vanishes beneath her again, and she tips her head back, staring up at the starless sky, breath still coming fast.
When Kaisel bursts back up beside her, all grin and dripping hair, she has one arm braced lazily against the nearest floating raft, its little candle flickering golden light over the swell of her breasts and the gleam of water across her collarbones. Her grin crooks slow and knowing. [say]"In Floratopolis,"[/say] she says, [say]"everyone will have a magic item that creates special Frey-approved surfaces to fuck their frustratingly hot boyfriends against, anytime the mood strikes."[/say]
RE: Nudely Interrupted - Kaisel - 11-02-2025
She's plenty alluring when she just, exists. When she tries, though, there's no hope of resisting her. Combining that with the present state of affairs, where it's equally impossible to have her, and he's found a new state of suffering. Like any good scientist that's made a discovery, he can name this finding, and rather than take the egotistical route of branding it after himself, he feels the credit truly goes to the source of inspiration. The hellscape of pain he's in right now will henceforth be known as the Flo-nogo Zone.
It's only been found in the saltwater of Torchline thus far, existing in the space where her breath, soft with heat, pours against him. That exchange wraps around words straining to beak apart into want, accentuated with touch that's too taut with restraint to fully turn wicked. A tease without reprieve, almost as tragic as the ghost of an orgasm, aborted before full term.
Loathe as he is to lose her to the tide, the brief distance between them is a mild blessing for the stiff ache that she's summoned. It's a wonder that he can still float with how rock hard he is. That she's also imagining different scenarios than this is little comfort, because like his own thoughts, it doesn't remove them from this particular setting.
Blue continues to shift around them where the surface of the water decorates them in the ocean's electric heartbeat, trailing in flashes after every shifting arm and shoulder. It competes with the orange radiance of the raft, and with this flame so small in comparison to those on the beach, the outlines of her don't stay warm and golden for long. Liquid lightning overtakes her in brilliant flashes, robbing him of breath he already thought stolen as it cuts through the dark. It lets him peek at the shape of her, a secret the night can't bear to part with for long.
Through the hunger and the misery of being hungry, she rouses a laugh at her decree, one that comes lazy and gilded in the firelight as he drifts to hold the lip of it beside her. [say]"Now that, sounds like an excellent idea."[/say] He doesn't worry one bit about forgetting to add it to the list either, not when he can feel it practically sear into his memory. To which, his grin twists more crooked for a moment. [say]"I am curious though,"[/say] he drawls, attention slowly rising from the glow outlining her breasts to the flicker of light in her eyes. [say]"How long have you been a masochist?"[/say] Referring, of course, to her prior comments about loving this.
RE: Nudely Interrupted - Flora - 11-02-2025
As Kaisel reaches for the raft, Flora shifts too, her body slipping easily between his arms and the flickering flame. Her arm remains braced on the raft to keep herself anchored, the ocean still tugging at her legs like it wants her elsewhere. But she's not going anywhere—not when she can press close and closer still—and let her thigh slide forward until her leg curls slowly around Kaisel's waist. The motion draws her against him, his cock brushing maddeningly where she aches for him, and the pressure of it alone makes her breath catch. She bites at a grin, eyes sparking with wicked delight as her other leg snakes around him too, locking him in place. The contact is exquisite torment, just shy of satisfaction, and the tension between them stretches so tight it feels like the waves themselves might snap from it.
His question earns a slow, indulgent smile as she lifts one hand to comb a few strands of wet hair back from his face, brushing it away so she can see the full gleam of his eyes in the dark. [say]"I prefer to think of it as being an optimist,"[/say] she purrs, voice curling like smoke against his skin. [say]"Why not look on the bright side?"[/say] And then she leans back—slowly, deliberately—until all her weight rests on the arm braced behind her on the raft. Her chest rises, hips tilted forward, her body open and inviting, just out of reach. The hard length of him presses right against her, exactly where she wants him, and it would be so easy—too easy—for him to shift forward and bury himself inside her. But then what?
It’s the promise of it that’s so devastating, the not-quite that has her gasping softly, knuckles white where they press into the raft’s edge. Her thighs tighten instinctively around him again, trying to keep him close even as she tips her head back to look at him, and gods, look at him. The ocean glows around them in pulses, each swell of water casting streaks of soft blue over his shoulders, down the ridges of his chest, across the sharp line of his jaw. In this light, he looks untouchable, like something sculpted from dusk and starlight, his body painted in wet copper and lightning. The water beads against his skin, sliding in slow rivers that only make her hungrier to touch him. His grin still curves sharp, despite the ache they’re both drowning in, and that—that—is what undoes her.
Her gaze softens, breath still shallow from the feel of him against her. [say]"Do you care,"[/say] she asks, low and steady, [say]"if anyone sees us?"[/say] She tilts her head slightly to the side. [say]"Or hears us?"[/say] Her voice doesn’t waver, not shy, but it’s not pushy either. She knows how riled up he is, how easy it would be to convince him to drag her to shore and fuck her against the sand, and gods, she wants that, not least of all because while masochism might not apply to Flora, voyeruism certainly does. But she won’t take advantage of the want in either of them, not if it might become discomfort later.
RE: Nudely Interrupted - Kaisel - 11-02-2025
It's clear now that her plan all along has been to leave him for dead out here. He can devise no other explanation for the reason she winds each leg around him like a sea serpent, hoisting her hips against his with nothing but a layer of saltwater keeping them separate, as if his erection wouldn't be tearing through cloth right now should it still remain. [say]"Flora,"[/say] he hisses a warning as she dangles herself above him like the worst temptation. The brush of everything he wants in this moment ghosts past the tip of his more than willing cock, it's a wonder even to him that he doesn't just plunge into her, and it's that uncertainty of continued restraint that has him hooking an arm beneath her and hauling her higher up alongside him.
[say]"I'm not optimistic I can hold myself back from you,"[/say] he grumbles, the want wound so tight through him each breath fights for effort to make it back in. [say]"Especially not when yo—"[/say] but his voice clips short as she shifts, tilting back into the arms of the tide in full. Everything he hungers for bows forward like a veritable feast, and in response he dips low, chin hitting the water in a ripple of blue as he cranes down to groan against her chest. [say]"A sadist, too,"[/say] he accuses, teeth grazing across the inside of her breast in reprimand.
Her grip tightens around him, the added coil of her need on top of his sure to strangle him, or sever an entire limb. Whatever it takes to relieve this pressure and end the suffering, honestly. [say]"Who?"[/say] he barks out, incredulous now as he beats back the creep of insanity that's mounting in force inside him. The one that's whispering to him to just have her here, outcome be damned. [say]"The fish and the kelp??"[/say]
RE: Nudely Interrupted - Flora - 11-02-2025
His warning hits her like a spark to dry kindling—her name, hissed low and sharp—and her breath catches, lashes fluttering as if something physical has struck between them. She nearly moves then, every muscle primed to shift, to tilt her hips just enough. Just the thought of it—of him hard and ready, her wet and aching—it would take nothing to slide him inside her. Nothing but permission even if it would be torment. But for a moment, just one, they'd both find some measure of satisfaction that might make it worth it.
Her body wants to, but he’s faster. His arm hooks under her, lifting her with practiced ease, and she exhales a sharp, startled breath that unravels into a tense, giddy laugh as he pulls her closer. Her grin is wild and breathless, her teeth catching her lip just as his mouth finds her skin.
When his lips and teeth graze the inside of her breast, she shivers like the sea’s crawled inside her bones, legs tightening around his waist as her back arches instinctively to feed him more. Her hand stays tangled in his hair, the other scrabbling to steady herself against the raft, but the world is tipping and tilting and fuck she doesn’t want to be steady anymore.
Her eyes flick over his shoulder toward the beach, the sound of her breath trembling as she swallows. [say]"There are people,"[/say] she murmurs, voice soft but edged with thrill, [say]"who take advantage of the dark during LongNight. Who like to..."[/say] Her gaze drags back to his, bright and wicked beneath the dark. [say]"Watch the things couples get up to in the dark."[/say]
Her fingers slip from his hair to his cheek, brushing along the edge of his jaw, her thighs still firm around him as her body pulses against his. [say]"If we went back,"[/say] she whispers, mouth brushing close to his, imagining his hands grasping her hips as her knees dug into the sand, [say]"someone would see."[/say] Her smile lingers, bold and breathless, but her eyes soften as they meet his; still not pushing, not pressing, just offering. A crooked shrug lifts her shoulders against him, the brush of her nipples featherlight beneath the water, teasing and warm.
[say]"If not,"[/say] she murmurs, voice lilting with mischief again, [say]"I’m pretty sure I can keep you from drowning out here...so long as you can hold onto the raft with at least one hand."[/say] Her hand glides down his back, fingers tracing salt-slick muscle with knowing ease. With how hard he is, and with the way he still had a teenager's endurance when it came to sex, she’s pretty sure it wouldn’t take much. Just the right angle, the right pressure, and he’d come apart at the seams. Her lips skim the corner of his mouth—not quite a kiss, just a promise of one—letting him decide if a brief foray into voyeurism was worth it to properly fuck her, or if fooling around in the ocean was a more bearable compromise.