with a burning violin

// dance me through the panic 'til i'm gathered safely in
lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove //

He wants to tell her all the things he’ll do, the way he’ll draw her out just as she does for him, but it dies immediately on his tongue with the quiet huff of a breath that he clamps down against hard with the lightning that sparks against his wrist. His heart thunders, skin flushing further as he tries to regain control of his breathing but she gives him little time. And so he crumbles, one brick at first, a low hum at the way she goes down on him again excruciatingly slow. He bites at the inside of his cheek, to swallow down the whine that nearly slips from his throat at her motions and the warmth and wetness she offers him paired with the hold she has.

And if he wasn’t already weak before, he certainly is now. “You wicked thing, you.” He manages through a hoarse voice, eyes glinting a hint darker, unable to keep the pant from leaving his lips with the words, the hitch of breath stuck in his throat. His fingers tighten in her hair again, tugging and pulling against the rhythm she picks along his aching length. “You’re going to tear me apart, aren’t you?” He challenges, his wings flaring again before they droop and drape along the edge of the bed, the ends of the wings brushing across the floor.

If she isn’t careful she’s absolutely going to get him off quicker than he anticipates, quicker than he’d like her to before he even has a chance to devour her in turn.

dance me to the end of love

SUNJATA

softness has garnered me nothing but misery

He may hide his sounds from her, but he can't conceal the pulse in his wrist that thunders against her fingertips. It's the drumming encouragement that keeps her going. The crack in his armor that she gleefully digs her fingers into, eager to rip it open further. Hotaru pulls back, the wet sound lewd and loudly punctuating their shared heavy breathing. Licks her lips and presses a chaste, almost fond kiss to the curved side of his length as she stares up at him from beneath hooded lids. Letting him feel her swollen lips and heated breath against his skin as she drinks in his words, the tight hold on her hair only making the slickness increase between her thighs.

"That's the goal," she murmurs against his cock. Flickers her tongue out for another slow lick as she considers. "Think you can go twice if you cum in my mouth? Or do you want to fuck me instead?" Bold and unashamed by her own forward language. More than happy to get him off twice, to truly tear him apart, but a little input doesn't go amiss even with the reigns in her own hands.

// dance me through the panic 'til i'm gathered safely in
lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove //

He tries so desperately to hold onto his facade, his poker face, while she taunts him. It ends with a clench to his jaw, huffs of sounds leaving him that have him burning and burning, an edge close that if he were to truly want her in his lap, he wouldn’t last long. So he considers her words carefully, the smirk crossing his face as his fingers continue to remain tight in her hair, a tilt of his head that has one spiraled horn clicking against the wood of the headboard as he looks down at her, rolls his hips to press his length more against her tongue.

“I won’t last long if you come up here now, so I suppose I’ll have to.” His voice is a husky rumble, a considering look that crosses his face with the hand that she keeps pinned, lifting his fingers up to stroke against the inside of her wrist with blunt nails. “Because I absolutely do want to fuck you. Properly.” His gaze drifts to his wrist that’s trapped by her hand and lightning magic. “And I’m pretty sure the work up will keep you slick.” This is said with a hint of a teasing tone, a whisper that leaves his lips, gaze sharpening as he looks back at her — noticing the way she shifts her hips in the sheets, the way she tries to find friction wherever she can.

dance me to the end of love

SUNJATA

softness has garnered me nothing but misery

Hotaru lets him think it over, distracted from drinking in his facial expressions by the way his hips undulate beneath her, dragging the velvety skin of his cock further across her tongue. She obligingly curls it into his slit while it’s in reach, lips pleasantly sore and his entire body enough to distract her from fully comprehending his words at first. When they do finally click through her own slowly muddling brain, she grins like the cat that finally got the cream. Or will, if you get her drift.

”What a hardship.” As if she wouldn’t give him as many orgasms as he pleased, but she’ll tease him all the same. Even if he gives as good as he gets, her own cheeks darkening at being caught out. ”I think you’ll be enough for now,” she retorts mildly before pulling herself closer and letting her mouth fall open. This time using her free hand to guide his to her hair, leaving her throat soft and relaxed and then dropping her hand to urge his hips forward. A silent encouragement for him to set the pace, to fuck her throat at his leisure and use her to get off. Not without her own input of course, sparks dancing along her tongue like poprocks. Now that was a trick that had taken some time to learn.

// dance me through the panic 'til i'm gathered safely in
lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove //

His own mind isn’t much better, a muddled mess that he can only offer with the demonstration of his body. But his eyes watch her, the way she curls and adjusts, the way she drags his hand to her hair with the other one, the way she opens herself up for him to indulge, and indulge he does. No longer does the game come into play, of poker faces and pretend, and so he does as she offers, hips rolling up to her, pushing himself deeper against her lips, body tensing against the sparks he can feel dancing along her tongue, breaking him just enough that he growls low and deep in his throat, setting a manageable pace with his hips against her. “Fuck—” He manages, cutting himself off, relishing in the sensation and feel of her.

And as he said, given the free reign to set his own pace with the promise of being able to fuck her after, he pants and offers her plenty of sounds as a pretense, until his fingers are tightening against her hair, dragging blunt nails along her neck, a forewarning before the tether snaps to give her time to do with it whatever she pleased. His mind is abuzz with the sensation that wracks through him, a burning shock that has him trembling with restraint that’s given away by the pulse within him that thunders, with the heat and trickling sweat that overcomes him.

dance me to the end of love

SUNJATA

softness has garnered me nothing but misery

Success.

His facade breaks entirely, the game forsaken in favor of chasing the pleasurable end that lies within reach. Hotaru shudders regardless, the animalistic response and unguarded reaction more than enough for her even devoid of purposeful physical stimulation. Though the pace of his hips and the plunging of his cock into her throat is just as much of a turn on for her. It’s a heady feeling, the pretense of being used while simultaneously secure in the knowledge that she is bringing her lover pleasure.

Sunjata more than amply warns her, but Hotaru merely flicks her eyes up at him, hand tightening around his hip. Her nails dig in just a little, hoping to add that tiny bit of extra sensation to help send him over the edge and spill into her waiting mouth.

// dance me through the panic 'til i'm gathered safely in
lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove //

Oh how he burns. It’s a different sort of ramp up from the teasing bites that Nate always sparks within him, drawn out a bit longer in the name of a game rather than Sunjata simply challenging Nate. And with Hotaru it’s a bit different as well, how she taunts him differently yet still just perfectly enough. The rhythm is set, Hotaru prepped and digging her nails into his hip, that tether snapping within him until he’s trembling and out of breath with a sore, hoarse throat.

He rides out the wave, giving Hotaru the space to do whatever she pleased, fingers loosening in her hair in favor for tender caresses along her temple, along her chin and her neck as he tries to recover quickly. But it’s hard when she looks the way she does, still unsatisfied, still awaiting in anticipation. His head tilts back to where the horns bump against the headboard, Sunjata reaching forward to pull her into his lap, to give her the attention and focus she deserves.

dance me to the end of love

SUNJATA

softness has garnered me nothing but misery

It's the best kind of waiting game, and as he spills into her mouth she swallows every drop without care or complaint. The taste doesn't matter, not when she's so focused on watching him come undone so beautifully, arching and holding each muscle contorted into place before releasing all at once into boneless relaxation. She pulls off before he can become too tender, cleaning him with a quick kittenish glance of her tongue that retreats into her smirking mouth. It softens as his hands cradle her face, immediately tender in his aftermath, and it helps temper the burn of arousal in her belly.

Hotaru goes easily as he pulls her forward and up into his lap, panties a total loss with how soaked through they are. She's careful to give him room, to not rub or grind while he still recovers, and the shock of air against the wet fabric has her gasping quietly. "Feel torn apart yet?" she teases in her husky voice, abused lips framing grinning teeth as she pulls his prior words back to the fore.

// dance me through the panic 'til i'm gathered safely in
lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove //

He makes room for her, inviting her in, appreciating her delicate ness as he captures his breath again, hands running along her skin once she’s settled. Her voice is another thing that keeps him slightly on that edge, the saccharinity that settles within it. “Not quite.” He assures her, leaning his horned head in to press a kiss to her jaw, along her cheek, to run his hands along her sides to reacquaint himself with her. He pulls away just enough to let his gaze scan over her face, the edge of a smirk lying therein.

“Not until I get to tear you apart too.” He rumbles through the rise and fall of his tattooed and scarred chest, pulling her in against him just a bit more — hands growing perhaps a bit possessive in the way they clutch to her to keep her near. He’s still sensitive, though, hoping that some idle chatter and keeping her tense just enough might spark his second bout, just as it had with Nate in that Ascended room in the Grounds. So for now, it’s idle and fleeting touches, scanning her face for the reaction to his quiet vow, a playful gleam in his eye to ward away the shadows.

dance me to the end of love

SUNJATA

softness has garnered me nothing but misery

Hotaru tilts obligingly into each kiss, smile flushing giddy and adoring in a distinctly youthful way. Even in the heat of the moment, at times she’s overwhelmed by how much she loves him. His words may make her shudder with anticipation, but she’s content to wait in this slow simmering arousal for now. Like a banked fire ready to be turned from smoldering coals to flames with the right material.

”You think you can?” An unnecessary challenge, but Hotaru loves to see that kick of cockiness in his eyes. Her arms drape around his shoulders as he pulls her even closer, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against hers driving home how much larger he is. The wings certainly emphasize that. It gets to her as it always does, to feel so breakable in his arms, entranced by all that muscle and scarred skin. Sunjata is unfairly handsome, both her men are, and he’ll certainly have no problems keeping her on the edge when her imagination insists on aiding his cause.

Ru leans in to kiss him sweetly, not seeing a need to rush. One hand lifts to cradle his face, slide up through his hair and caress the curves of one horn. Pressing her breasts to his pectorals for just the slightest bit of friction through the lace of her bra.

// dance me through the panic 'til i'm gathered safely in
lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove //

He smiles into the giddiness he draws from her, into the softness that he tries to emulate from Nate to give her in the time of his absence. And for a moment, he thinks it works, fingers running gently along her skin, a huff of a breathy laugh at her challenge as he turns to face her fully with a soft smile, a gleam of that cherished cockiness in his gaze that she seeks. “Of course I can, Ru.” He hums without an air of doubt in his tone.

Her arms drape around his shoulders and his wrap around her waist to keep her close as he catches his breath, the rise and fall of his chest like a drum beat of his heart within. She leans in to kiss him and he obliges, pressing back against her with gentleness as he recovers, humming lightly into the kiss as her fingers find the base of a horn, a hiss of sensitivity. She presses up against him, his hand splaying out along the small of her back, pressing her in while the other runs along through her hair, his kisses traveling along her jaw to the soft space beneath her ear where he plants a sharp but pleasant mark.

An apology is nuzzled back toward her lips, a soft edge to his smile as he peers at her when he pulls away a fraction.

dance me to the end of love

SUNJATA

softness has garnered me nothing but misery

His assurances only brighten her smile into a grin. Hotaru is more than confident in his abilities, and they have hours more ahead of them to try anything new even if that confidence was somehow misplaced. In the lull though, his softness does remind her of Nate, and her heart aches anew for a moment before she chases away the thought forcefully. Distracting herself instead with exploring the texture of his horn with gentle fingertips, the warmth of his shoulder blades with the arm still draped around him. Focusing on the simmer in her gut instead of the worry in her head.

Sunjata's lips are warm and tender against her own delightfully swollen ones, every small movement made sensitive. It feels like there's so little space between them now but he erases what remains by pulling her in, and she gives a hiccup of a gasp as he bites sharply beneath her ear, nails pressing into his back automatically so that she doesn't squeeze around his waist instead. She smiles into his apologetic kiss, threading her fingers into the hair at the base of the horn she had been exploring. "Making sure we match?" Gaze flickering to where she'd layered her bite over Nate's. It's a shame, the main scar she has from Nate is on her inner thigh. A little harder to show that one off to the world, you understand.

// dance me through the panic 'til i'm gathered safely in
lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove //

She can explore all she likes, though the more she fiddles with the horn the quicker he begins to overcome his sensitivities. He’s content to continue to wait it out, however, with her in his lap and his arms draped around her, fingers rubbing soft circles into the small of her back. The mark is placed beneath her ear, a matching one to the one left on his skin, the apology nuzzled back toward her lips with a quiet hum of a laugh. “Of course.” He agrees, letting the half crooked smile cross his face in a soft boyish fashion.

He pulls away a bit more, letting his breaths even out as one hand raises to her hair, to run his fingers through the blonde tresses until they drift down her back, exposing the rest of her neck to him. “I don’t imagine you have any complaints.” A dark brow is raised her way, before he’s leaning in and pressing kisses along her collarbone, stubbles cheek nuzzling in against her neck. “I missed you.” He manages, quieter, softer, hidden away by her skin and the path he paves along it.

dance me to the end of love

SUNJATA

softness has garnered me nothing but misery

Amusement decorates her face like gold leaf on parchment, the wry twist of her lips far too forgiving of his playful insolence. As if she would ever deny his matching mark on her skin. They are welcome to lay claim over every inch of her. If Hotaru were so inclined, she'd ink them both irrevocably the way Sunjata does. It looks far better on him of course, but the thought appeals to her at times in the dead of the night. If only she were not so cynical, so broken. Convinced - and rightfully so - that someday this land with all its cruelties will take them from her. And when that happens, Hotaru will - must - move on. As she has been forced to do so many times before. Love, therefore, is a daily choice of loyalty. Eventually, the day will come where the choice is taken from her hands. That is simply how the world works for her.

But those are thoughts too dark for moments like these, warm and illuminating and hastily snatched from the jaws of fate. Before she can think to answer him, the softness of his words and the way they press into her skin makes her close her eyes against the rush of emotion they summon. Holding him close around his shoulders, nothing more invigorating than that. "I missed you too," Hotaru says instead, because she is not a poetic woman. Does not have the eloquence or bravery to say things like every day that I lay apart from you, even with no knowledge or memory to know who it was I missed, I ached with a grief and longing that no knife or skillful hands could replicate.