melita
Instigating and provoking, though this time for pleasure rather than trickery or deceit, she found herself quite content in watching him unravel. While she’d seen him unfurl many times before, it’d been in other situations, like anger or entertainment; not undone in satisfaction – and she grinned, thinking how many times she’d like to witness him fall apart in indulgence. Sweat-laden muscles and naked and laden for the taking, that would be an aspect of Iskra she’d keep all to herself – riding along the groans and aftershocks with him – savoring, snagging, snaring, held there until the pulses shattered and then it was just them.
Though, she did catch a glimpse of fire in the canopy, but when she blinked again, it seemed to be gone. The confusion rambled along her mind rather than bringing it to attention; perhaps a side effect of consuming one another, unaware of the other instances. She’d been a little distracted.
His breath lingered across her skin, and she inhaled lowly, slowing the jackhammering of her heart until it seemed to reach a pleasant hum, fingers lightly tracing his back. She was partially inclined to grab his ass just to see what he’d do, but settled for winding her hands along his neck, then his face, supporting around his jaw. On his exhale, her eyes widened, then she snorted; still very unsteady when it came to expressing things outwardly (that weren’t, at least, outright and hostile rage) – so she settled for a preening, only a light blush flickering across her cheeks, rolling a little to the side so she could be captured and captivated in just the right light. “Mm, you should see yourself,” she granted in exchange – eyes still hooded and drawing him in, purposefully raking her glance up and down. Thereafter, her mouth glimpsed along his ear, reaching for more contact, for things she didn’t know she could constantly crave. “That was really good,” as praise; to invoke that she’d enjoyed it, hoped he had too, trying to piece the particles of what they were doing together.
But instead of asking, because she wasn’t really sure how to phrase the inquiry, she gave them a moment or two to bask; lithe afterglows. The notion of their time in the jungle crept in though, and she gave a quick laugh. “Do you want to wash up somewhere? There’s bound to be a stream nearby.”
salvation doesn't look like light
