HOTARU
She's in a long black coat tonight
Waiting for me in the downpour outside
Waiting for me in the downpour outside
If there are any worries or warnings that tell her to restrain herself, to keep guarded, they are drowned beneath the tidal wave of sensation and emotion that they conjure with the simplest pass of their hands upon her skin. If they want to worry and wonder she will let them. She is tired of being the controlled one. The one holding Sunjata together, the one letting him walk away from her arms into another's. The one giving advice, teaching, leading. For a moment - for a single night - she lets them place their hands upon her and take care of her.
Sunjata's kiss is familiar fire, a pain that cleanses even as it burns through her. She rises on her toes to press their lips together more firmly, rising like a cresting storm barely capable of being restrained beneath her skin. The promising bite he leaves her with is a pale pretender to the fangs he presses to her neck, and she whimpers, some primordial part of her shuddering in submission at the gravity of the action. Trusting him to hurt her in exactly the ways she wants, to hold her firm to the earth. They are her anchors, and she stares hungrily as they move to kiss over her shoulder, eyes ravenous and appreciative even as blunt but imposing nails distract her with a gasp of noise that sputters out into a hitched moan. Nate's nails follow in tandem, trailing up her back until it has her arching forward into him, the hand at Sunjata's nape flexing tightly at the myriad of sensations. The hand still on Nate slips around his side, drawing him closer until all she can hear, taste, breathe is them.
Nate, always the logical one - and isn't that hilarious? - pulls away to prompt them to a better location, and Hotaru has to force down her desire to have them put the door's solidity to the test. Instead she slowly trails her nails down Sunjata's neck and collarbone as she releases him, forcing herself to step away from the heat of his body at her back. And directly into Nate's arms, which pull her up and into his chest as if she's lighter than a feather, prompting a strangled noise from the hollow of her throat. Betraying her with the pleased tone that underscores it. Hotaru leans in and bites playfully at the doctor's ear, using the closeness to whisper to him. "Cheater, you're figuring out my secrets." Not that she is keen on objecting. Turning to gaze over his shoulder at Sunjata with dark, heavy-lidded eyes, she beckons him with a crook of her finger as they ascend the stairs together. Safe in the knowledge that Nate will not let her fall, she lets her hands roam shamelessly, tangling in that gorgeous hair that she had scarcely been able to let go of last time. Tugging and playing, pressing light kisses over his brow, the corner of his eye, the edge of his lips.
The bedroom is not given nearly the same amount of attention, far too focused on the handsome men accompanying her into it. All that she cares about is the fact that there's a bed. Before she is deposited somewhere (wherever Nate intends to put her) she cradles his head in her hands and draws him in for another kiss. Adamant that this one be longer, slower, than the tease of one he had first imparted.
Sunjata's kiss is familiar fire, a pain that cleanses even as it burns through her. She rises on her toes to press their lips together more firmly, rising like a cresting storm barely capable of being restrained beneath her skin. The promising bite he leaves her with is a pale pretender to the fangs he presses to her neck, and she whimpers, some primordial part of her shuddering in submission at the gravity of the action. Trusting him to hurt her in exactly the ways she wants, to hold her firm to the earth. They are her anchors, and she stares hungrily as they move to kiss over her shoulder, eyes ravenous and appreciative even as blunt but imposing nails distract her with a gasp of noise that sputters out into a hitched moan. Nate's nails follow in tandem, trailing up her back until it has her arching forward into him, the hand at Sunjata's nape flexing tightly at the myriad of sensations. The hand still on Nate slips around his side, drawing him closer until all she can hear, taste, breathe is them.
Nate, always the logical one - and isn't that hilarious? - pulls away to prompt them to a better location, and Hotaru has to force down her desire to have them put the door's solidity to the test. Instead she slowly trails her nails down Sunjata's neck and collarbone as she releases him, forcing herself to step away from the heat of his body at her back. And directly into Nate's arms, which pull her up and into his chest as if she's lighter than a feather, prompting a strangled noise from the hollow of her throat. Betraying her with the pleased tone that underscores it. Hotaru leans in and bites playfully at the doctor's ear, using the closeness to whisper to him. "Cheater, you're figuring out my secrets." Not that she is keen on objecting. Turning to gaze over his shoulder at Sunjata with dark, heavy-lidded eyes, she beckons him with a crook of her finger as they ascend the stairs together. Safe in the knowledge that Nate will not let her fall, she lets her hands roam shamelessly, tangling in that gorgeous hair that she had scarcely been able to let go of last time. Tugging and playing, pressing light kisses over his brow, the corner of his eye, the edge of his lips.
The bedroom is not given nearly the same amount of attention, far too focused on the handsome men accompanying her into it. All that she cares about is the fact that there's a bed. Before she is deposited somewhere (wherever Nate intends to put her) she cradles his head in her hands and draws him in for another kiss. Adamant that this one be longer, slower, than the tease of one he had first imparted.
singing "Baby come home" in a melody of tears
While the rhythm of the rain keeps time
While the rhythm of the rain keeps time
