Just take my hand and come with me

CHULANE

blending into the darkness, & it gets harder to see

Why not, indeed?

The thought happily cascaded through his mind almost immediately following her words, and he certainly wasn't going to argue with that logic.

When he had broken the kiss, he almost regretted it immediately, for he had been presented with her, in all her sultry, desirous glory, and oh, how he wanted to consume her wholly and completely, his initial intention of a bath nearly abandoned. She was hard to resist; her body called to his, everywhere their skin touched (and there was a lot of that going around) incensed him, made him only want more of her. And he did almost falter, almost fell so easily back into kissing her, to letting his hands explore her curves, to holding her against him so that he could feel her again. But he didn't falter - he voiced his half-hearted apology, and watched as she smiled and sounded her amusement, as she slowly pulled away from him.

He had thought that was it - she was going to go ahead and have her bath, he would make his exit, or perhaps help. And as much as he would gladly comply if that was what she truly wanted, he couldn't deny he was internally berating himself.

To be fair though, he watched with keen interest as her very naked body maneuvered over the edge of the tub, greedily consuming the sight of her pale, slim-yet-curvaceous-in-all-the-right-ways body slip beneath the water's steamy surface. He watched with open jealousy as her hands ran through her hair, as her legs taunted him with their movement beneath the water, her knees peeking above the water level, hinting at more beneath which he yearned to run his hands along, to feel and explore her every curve and fold.

Then her words came after what felt like an eternity, and his face cracked another smile, even as a surge of triumphant heat rushed to his loins - the muscles along his abdomen tensing at the sensation as he struggled but succeeded to control it, not wanting to rise too early least he fall too early. Things were certainly in motion however, as he bent over the bathtub edge to kiss her wholly on the mouth again, hoping it was enough to signify his enthusiastic agreement to her notion. He lingered like this for as long as he could bear it, a grumbling moan sounding as he broke the contact with her again to concentrate on getting into the tub without slipping or stumbling.

Long legs easily stepped into the bath, his hands leaning on each edge as he lowered himself into the near-scorching water, loving the feeling of it, but not nearly as much as he loved the idea of being here with her. The water level rose substantially as his mass displaced it, and waves crashed against both of their chests as he leaned forwards to her once more, one hand seeking to rest along her ribcage, his thumb brushing along the edge of her plump breast, the other still leaning on the edge of the tub, to steady and balance himself. The hand along her ribs shifted more to her back, and ventured lower, before it gently pulled her nearer to him, hoping to shift her so that they could share this space with a bit more comfort. His legs unfolded as he leaned back, both of his hands now running down her sides, over her hips and underneath her buttocks, aiming to lift and draw her closer still to him, to have her legs straddle his hips, so that there isn't as much swirling water or space left between them.

Needless to say, whatever control he had exerted earlier was long since forgotten, as the proximity to her in a bathtub was more than enough for the rushing heat to win out, rescinding its earlier complaint and happily encouraging his manhood to stand tall in the little space left between them. Seemingly unable to have his lips away from her for long, he leaned in for another kiss, hoping beyond hope she was finding this as engaging as he. Hands roamed along her outer thighs, hinting at venturing towards her inner thigh the higher they roamed.

try to stand & unravel what a man's gotta be

KIADA

burn it into my collar, hollowed onto your wrist

Perhaps it’s just the yearning to be closer to him, as close as physically she can be in a land covered with snow and ice and nothing much else to do when all her work was finished. Perhaps it was just the draw of him, the pull of her heart and mind whenever he entered a room, whenever he spotted her among the crowd. Perhaps it was a mix of everything and yet nothing at all that has her not wishing for him to leave as she voices her option — a bath among other activities…

And he accepts it, much to her pleasure, tilting her head up to him and arching her back among the steaming water as it starts to soak her hair when he kisses her. And she gives into him, but remains far enough out of reach of everything else until he’s there in the water with her. And it goes on, a tangle of a deep kiss while she fights from pulling him into the water with her, until he breaks it to do just that. Her eyes follow him, sultry and glazed a small amount with her lust while he sinks into the tub with her, the Harpy shifting ever so slightly to make space for him.

He reaches for her, hands wandering along her skin beneath the warmth of the water, goosebumps rising into the touch as she hums appreciatively, back arching and pressing herself into the touch even more.

But then he’s pulling her to him, and he doesn’t have to try hard at all as she’s moving her legs to straddle him, to create a small amount of space to kneel on either side of him, peering down as her hands lift and she presses herself against him with a sultry smirk, a honey dripped hum coloring the air with the trailing of his hands. Her own find his hair, tugging at the dark curls to tilt his head back, to capture a kiss that’s longer and deeper than before now that she has some semblance of an advantage, before one hand begins to trail down and down along his chest — tauntingly slow — until she finds the V of his torso, dancing her fingertips gently along his skin. And when she’s had enough toying with that, her fingers dip even lower, seeking out his length beneath the small wakes of water in the bath while shifting her hips a small amount into his hands, into the promise he offers with his own.

heaven knows i don't follow, but i believe in this

CHULANE

blending into the darkness, & it gets harder to see

His mind whirls with the desire, the lust that is all-consuming, his focus unable to settle on just one thing because so much is happening. And yet, it is all just her, her hands, her body, her hot breath, her lips - he is lost in the sensations, any rational thoughts abandoning him to make way only for her and everything she is, everything she brings. Wet hands run through his hair as her body comes to his, the gap closing between them, her body fitting against his, melding and melting, almost making him blind with the depth of his yearning.

Then she is kissing him, giving him another thing to get lost in, her position over him clearly something she enjoys - and he does too, one of his hands rushing again to press against her back, between the bony curves of her shoulder blades. His other was still venturing south, roaming in the depths of the water along her thigh, pausing at the junction of her inner hip -

- suddenly his breath hitches as he becomes startlingly aware of her hand, of its journey along the contours of his body. He shudders and shivers beneath her, utterly unable to contain the reaction that certainly wasn't from cold. He recovers, only to lose himself again at her look, her sirens call, as her hand toys with the sensitive area above his manhood, teasing and playing with him. He shifts slightly then, part in reaction to her games, part to ensure he was also able to play, to participate in equal partnership with her.

Her hips shift and so do his, though his was for far more uncontrolled, primal reasons than hers, as her hand found his cock swollen and taut, while his sought out her folds, her hidden jewels within. He was moaning, the sound varying in intensity from hungrily begging for more of her, to straining to keep himself in check, even as his fingers found her, and began a dance of their own along the sensitive contours of her clit. He was bolder, more confident this time, more familiar with her, with her preferences, her desires, her needs.

His fingers enter her even as hers grip his sheath, sparks of lust overwhelming him for a moment as he groans against her, almost angrily, determined to extend this game out for longer, cursing his body for being so ready to give to her, to submit to her ministrations. The groan becomes a kiss however, his mouth seeking whatever it can reach, a breast, the contours of her collarbone, her neck, her mouth - anything to maximise the contact between them, to prolong the moment, to revel in it with her.

try to stand & unravel what a man's gotta be

KIADA

burn it into my collar, hollowed onto your wrist

His breath hitches and she can’t help the slight smirk that crosses her face as she presses against him, against his hands that roam along her thigh, along the scars on her back. But her hand trails lower, the other finding purchase along his skin, fingers tangling in the curls at the base of his neck. They both shift, her hips granting him access and his own giving her more room to work with, and she gladly takes it, dipping her fingers lower until she finds his cock, running her fingers along the length of it in a slow taunt even as she becomes acutely aware of where his own hands dance.

If she’s being honest, she hasn’t entirely thought this fully through. But they’re in it now, and she burns as she settles in the water with him, steam rippling from pale skin that hints some redness with the warmth he sparks from her. And she practically purrs with the feel of him in her hand, grasping with a soft enough grip to be aimed at prolonging this.

There’s a gasp of breath as she feels him explore her, a soft moan slipping from her lips as he finds the right buttons to press, and she begins to burn with it — lips seeking his, to swallow his own and pair them with hers, her hand moving to wrap around his length and stroke upward roughly around the same time as those tantalizing fingers slip inside her. She pulls away from their kiss in time for his lips to find her neck, her head tilting away to give him more room, grinding down on his hand while simultaneously sliding her hand along his cock, bright and chiming moans slipping from her lips, eyelids fluttering shut as she tries to pick a smooth enough rhythm for the both of them that prolongs this game.

heaven knows i don't follow, but i believe in this

CHULANE

blending into the darkness, & it gets harder to see

Motion happens. Waves break against their skin, thrashing and rolling along the edge of the tub, some splashing over, all of it moving, swirling, dancing along to the beat of lust they pounded so passionately with each other.

He hones his focus onto her, as her grip rolls up his length, he feels her set a rhythm - his hips roll with it, lifting her, shifting her all the more into his awaiting clutches with every wave. The rhythm does help to give him structure, an anchor for him to steady himself against, for him to just revel in this with her.

Fingers continue their dance, his thumb continuing to apply its firm circular motion to the bundle of nerves that bring her pleasure, while his index and middle venture forth into her cavern, listening to the beat she directed - he was but a willing musician in this symphony of pleasure she was conducting.

All the while his hips roll with her, his mass grunts and groans, his mouth tastes the skin along her neck. Teeth scrape along the taut skin there, not biting so much as nibbling, testing, biting down slightly harder if she wanted it, returning to kissing her otherwise. In her hand, his manhood throbs and aches with need,  but still their rhythm rolls on.

try to stand & unravel what a man's gotta be

KIADA

burn it into my collar, hollowed onto your wrist

She rocks with him, her focus entirely on him as she sets their rhythm. Her voice colors the air, the sensation slipping from her to him in the attuned bond, an overwhelming feeling of that wave as it rolls and tosses within her. His hips move with her lotions, her grip and strokes, and she picks up a small amount of speed with it — her position on his lap causing her to rise and fall with it not unlike the wakes of water that surround them.

His fingers continue their dance, bringing more of a flush to her skin, more warmth to the already hot water, and she burns with it — grinding her hips down into him each time she lowers herself, tightening around the fingers that dip inside her before she’s rising again with the attention granted on him. Her head tilts as she feels the nibbling bites, humming moans of acceptance slipping from her with it before he’s returning to the gentle kisses. “Harder.” She whimpers a small amount, wanting nothing more than to have him latch on.

She can feel his cock throb and twitch in her hand, and she ups the rhythm a bit, pulling away from his reach a small amount as her hand leaves his neck to the edge of the tub — a burning desire in her eyes. And she uses this advantage to pull herself a bit lower into the water, watching him with every second passing, a small raise of her brow as if to suggest to have him shift with her to kneel — wanting to take him and taste him.

heaven knows i don't follow, but i believe in this

CHULANE

blending into the darkness, & it gets harder to see

The bond cascades through him, the sensation of her pleasure amplifying his own, making it all the more intimate, intense and meaningful. Every time she shared it had a profound impact on him, his desire to share in return only grew, his ability to do so not yet realised, so he relied on his body to do the telling. He matches her rhythm as it picks up, moving in synchrony with her always, feeling the pressure build, the throbbing and pulsing appearing at more frequent intervals, his breath coming with deep, resonate growls and moans that are nothing if not carnally derived.

And she is serviced too, tightening around him with every stroke - he grins against her skin as her command is given, overjoyed to be given it, to comply with it. Then he is biting down on the area just above her scar, growling more animalistically than before as he seeks to bruise, to break the blood vessels just beneath the surface of her skin without breaking the skin itself. He is kissing, and sucking, branding her with a hickey of his own making, leaving his mark on her. All as their hands are otherwise occupied with caverns and members, he finishes his branding effort - just as she moves again.

Moves away from him - he takes a gasping breath at the sudden distance, feeling cast off, lost, adrift - no longer is she in his hands, and he no longer in hers. He seeks to follow her, but is caught by her gaze, pinned by it, not knowing what is expected of him, confused and concerned that he had hurt her, or upset her. But she wouldn't be looking at him like that, wouldn't be inviting him closer, in a different way; realisation dawned with a sharp incline of his heartrate, gulping a large swallow that had his Adam's apple bouncing along his neck at the prospect laid out before him.

He started moving by bending towards her, very deliberating bringing his face near hers to breathe in the scent of her once more, to feel her hot breath on him, before shifting and rising to the kneel she so desired of him, one hand leaning on the edge of the tub, the other her shoulder. He stretched and rose to the full height this position would allow, his erect cock rose above the waterline; he was on presentation to her now, utterly and completely at her mercy.

try to stand & unravel what a man's gotta be

KIADA

burn it into my collar, hollowed onto your wrist

A moan is swiftly leaving her lips as he grants her wishes, feeling the bite and the mark left behind, a certain kind of soreness that she’d remember later, a badge to show off above a scarf. But she’s moving away from him before he can land another one, before she can offer her own, because an idea sparks within her mind — one way to possibly offer some amount of a ‘thank you’ for everything he’s done for her lately.

Even if he said he didn’t require a thanks.

The realization strikes him just as her lips curl into a devilish smirk, lowering herself a small amount in the water as he moves nearer, extending her head toward him to grant a soft kiss to his cheek, to his lips, before he’s kneeling before her — tall enough to break the waterline just enough for her to indulge. And she does, giving him a long appreciative look when he settles, iceberg eyes lifting from her position to look up at him like some sort of siren within the small waves of the bath.

Slowly, she licks her lips and her hands reach out for his thighs, to curl and run her fingers along the skin there. And then she’s nearing her head toward his cock, a slight tease at first as a hot tongue darts out to trace along the tip, eyes lifting to watch him for some kind of reaction, before she’s wrapping her lips around him — waiting for a response.

heaven knows i don't follow, but i believe in this

CHULANE

blending into the darkness, & it gets harder to see

The dance they play is not one he has engaged in before - never had he had such a level of intimacy, of trust and adventurousness, of abject abandon of all restraint when it came to sexual play. He was hers to craft, to mould into whatever she wished, pliable and wiling to bend to her demand, to her desire. It was intimidating, almost, for the naïve boy to find her, yearning for this - he could not think why, did not relate this action to any he had done previously, but welcomed them all the same (and really, what sensible boy would deny such a gift?).

His breaths were deep as the anticipation tortured him, her sultry, predatory gazes bringing forth only another surge of heat to his manhood, another shiver through his frame as he met her matching icy gaze with a hopeful yearning, a silent question - are you sure? - for never had such a gift been offered to him before, never had he been placed in such joint vulnerability with another.

And he did feel vulnerable, exposed as she looked at him, as she scrutinised and licked her damn sexy lips. The touch of her hands have his own tensing, his back arching, his grip on her shoulder becoming tighter, fingertips digging into the taut porcelain flesh. A groan suddenly sounds then as her tongue explores first, dancing and tracing the sensitive head - he is shutting his eyes as fireworks dance behind his lids, as precum dribbles from his opening, as the throbbing becomes wholeheartedly more. Her lips envelop him then, and his hips make to move, to buck, but he controls the motion, intensely aware of her proximity, gently leaning into the gift she was offering, straining to hold himself back, but yearning, begging for more all the same.

try to stand & unravel what a man's gotta be

KIADA

burn it into my collar, hollowed onto your wrist

She doesn’t need to reassure him, because if she hadn’t wanted to do it she wouldn’t be in this position now — but gods what a powerful position it appears to be. Her hot tongue traces the tip of his length, relishing in the groan she receives from him, in the reaction of his body. But it’s not quite enough, not quite as she goes to take him into her mouth — tongue flicking along the tip to taste him, a burning flame growing within her as she hums a soft moan against the pressure of her shoulder, vibrating through him.

One wet hand lifts, to grip gently around the base of him as she takes him deeper into her mouth, tongue pressing against all the sensitive spots as she pulls away now, mimicking the action with her hand. She hums a quieter sound against him as she goes to take him again, shooting her own pleasure at the action down the attuned bond for him, to ensure he understands that she wants to do this, that she’s enjoying it.

And she continues, again and again, applying just enough pressure to pleasure him in whatever way she can — her free hand tracing along those strong thighs of his until they’ve reached his balls, to cup squeeze ever so slightly as she drowns herself with him.

heaven knows i don't follow, but i believe in this

CHULANE

blending into the darkness, & it gets harder to see

Gods but is he lost in her, literally and figuratively, his body and soul writhing in her grip, his breaths coming in moaning gasps with each stroke of her hot lips upon him. Her tongue inflames him, its motion ushering more pulses, more eager little thrusts from his hips. Then her hand joins the venture, gripping him in the sudden absence of her mouth, and he is almost sorrowful at the exchange - which is forgotten as she takes him again, humming against him, a song he feels more than he hears, for his own moans threaten to drown out any song she might sing.

And the bond opens once more, the phenomenon as thrilling as it always has been, her pleasure only augmenting his own blissful state, as he accepts that she does this for him because she wants to. The idea only incites more from him, more desire, more of her. And he receives it, her motion increasing, her other hand venturing now to his balls, to artfully massage them - a strange noise, an outcry of pleasure escapes his lips at the contact, coming from a place of almost-fear that his climax is too near to be stopped now.

"I… want… you…" his low guttural voice beckons, demands, as he moves the hand that was so tightly gripping her shoulder to press against the side of her neck, his intense gaze seeking hers, almost pleading with her to stop (or else forgive him if he comes too soon should she continue on this path), so that he might ensure she experiences the same pinnacle of pleasure that he does. He would never force her, but he had to let her know he was close - the pulsing, throbbing heat that ushered in more little waves of precum should be evidence enough to her of that.

try to stand & unravel what a man's gotta be

KIADA

burn it into my collar, hollowed onto your wrist

Her actions cause a beautiful array of emotions to cross his face, and it only amplifies her own enjoyment from it, feeling him writhe and twitch and shiver beneath her touch and actions. And she continues until it seems like he might give in, before that hand is slipping from her shoulder to her neck and her gaze lifts to find him, finding the intensity within the equally penetrating gaze as well as the pleading.

And she concedes for him, the growl of his voice capturing all of her attention, all of her desire — wrapped into one.

Withdrawing from him, she smirks up at him, practically purring while she focuses entirely on him with her hands at his hips now, lifting herself up from the water a minuscule amount. “How?” She breathes, letting him pick now that she’s had her fun.

heaven knows i don't follow, but i believe in this

CHULANE

blending into the darkness, & it gets harder to see

He is on the edge, the precipice of pleasure and desire, of letting the swell of emotions rise and breach and release in a gush of heat and passion - he is pushed to the edge of his capacity to control it, to rein it in and redirect it to a more appropriate, more satisfying end. And she lets him keep that control, relinquishing her hold on him, her ministrations paused, stopped, and he is grateful to her, not only for the action she had performed, but that she understood when he asked for that control back.

Breaths came hard and fast in the aftermath of that almost-climax, as her smirk and her eyes and her hot breath breezes along his skin. He sat back down into the water, folding his legs so that he was sitting on his heels, bringing her more onto an even keel with him as her hands followed his hips down under the water. at some point protection happens okay. His own hands find her waist, seeking to lift her to his lips, to kiss her beautiful full lips, to taste himself on them, to hold her near him. "With me," his deep, rumbling murmur of a reply came eventually, in between hot and steamy kisses, a hand rising from her waist to rub along a breast, to cup it and massage it, to feel her writhe and shudder with pleasure just as he had for her.

Then he was bring her in closer still, hoping her legs might straddle his hips once more - hoping she would have him enter her depths, that she might ride this wave of ecstasy along with him. His hand moved from her breast along her stomach, moving much as she had before to him, dancing along the line of public hair for a moment before seeking the jewel amongst the folds, his thumb working to incite that deep, carnal and wanton flame of passion in her, to stoke it and ensure it became an inferno soon enough.

try to stand & unravel what a man's gotta be

KIADA

burn it into my collar, hollowed onto your wrist

He shifts back into the water, and she drifts nearer much like that siren of before – drawing herself above the water just enough that it drips from her neck and shoulders, and as he reaches for her to pull her into a position for him, her body easily molded and moved by him. And with the help of the water and the weightlessness it adds, he easily lifts her to meet his lips – kissing him deeply and greedily, before they part and his growl of a reply reaches her.

Then his hands are on her again, and she shivers – body arching to the touch, to give him everything she can. And she follows the easy guidance, straddling his hips once more but in a way that allows her to taunt him ever so slightly, arms draping about his shoulders, nails digging into his skin where she could reach, drowning herself in a kiss with him deep and hungry.

Then she sinks down onto him, pressing herself down as far as she can with the bright purr of a moan escaping her as he fills her, as her nails dig in a bit tighter with the trail his hand takes. Goosebumps rise in their wake, until he finds her clit, inciting those flames he wished to. There’s a shift in her body with it, a primal urge that transcends it as she lifts her head then, tilting it back, using her position and her legs to lift herself and sink herself down again with another bright moan slipping past her lips.

heaven knows i don't follow, but i believe in this