i'll follow you into the dark

Amalia

the shield of safrin

she does not know what it's like
not to have deep emotions

He brings her closer until there's only the breadth of her hand between them, and then closer still, tilting her willing face up towards him, hungry for his lips. It's an unexpected thing to kiss him, to kiss anyone, and it takes her a second to adjust to the way he feels, how he tastes, how it is to be held by someone with this body, this height. Almond eyes flutter shut as she lets herself let go, tongue pressing forward, an echoing moan escaping into his mouth as his hips push against hers, the firmness of his erection unmistakable beneath the flimsy towel.

The command is aphrodisiacal in and of itself, sending another shudder coursing down the Shield's lithe form. Lilac curls into her hair, accompanied by miniature roses in shades of red and gold; there's scales on her spine now, too, and a long prehensile tail sprouting from its base.

Needy, obedient, and forceful enough to somewhat surprise herself, Amalia obliges, reaching one hand back to grab his shoulders, the other tangling into his hair, pulling him to her lips. Her left leg raises up against him and she's half-perched on the countertop when she pulls out her greatest trick: the qilin tail wraps around him, nimbly snatching away the towel that still clings to his hips and pushing him in further against her still tragically clothed form.

even when she feels nothing
she feels it completely