right now everything you want is wrong
& right now all your dreams are waking up
& right now all your dreams are waking up
What was he waiting for, gods but he isn't entirely sure. Something to tell him that this was all wrong, that he needed to stop. Unlike Ronin, Remi hadn't found comfort in the arms of another during the entirety of their marriage. The only person he'd ever properly wanted to be with was, by his own choosing, entirely off-limits (no matter how often he woke up, pressed naked against the fox). But Isla...he loved her more deeply and so differently than anyone else. She was part of him, even now that she was her own person again. Loving her was like loving the best parts of himself, and wanting her, surprising as it was, seemed only natural.
"Nothing at al—" But then her hands are around him and the words entirely break on his lips as his breath catches abruptly in the back of his throat. The sound that leaves him next is one of barely-there restraint as he all but winces at the overwhelming rapport of desire that echoes through him. "Gods, Isla." He pants against her, his head tilted and his jaw tense.
He can't remember a time when he'd wanted to be with a woman. Every time in his past had been done reluctantly, with images of men splayed out behind his eyelids and an erection that was only half-interested in the task at hand. But now? Gods he ached for her, and her hand around his cock was an insult at best.
Pushing away from her brutishly, Remi does what he hands were too slow to. Remove his pants and underwear in a practiced gesture, had Isla wanted a moment to look upon him afresh, she'd be hastily denied it. Only, much as he wanted her right then and there, he wouldn't be confined by the proportions of the lounge. Reaching down to scoop her up as if to walk her over some marital threshold, Remi will take them to the bed where they'll have all the space in the world for what comes next.
"Nothing at al—" But then her hands are around him and the words entirely break on his lips as his breath catches abruptly in the back of his throat. The sound that leaves him next is one of barely-there restraint as he all but winces at the overwhelming rapport of desire that echoes through him. "Gods, Isla." He pants against her, his head tilted and his jaw tense.
He can't remember a time when he'd wanted to be with a woman. Every time in his past had been done reluctantly, with images of men splayed out behind his eyelids and an erection that was only half-interested in the task at hand. But now? Gods he ached for her, and her hand around his cock was an insult at best.
Pushing away from her brutishly, Remi does what he hands were too slow to. Remove his pants and underwear in a practiced gesture, had Isla wanted a moment to look upon him afresh, she'd be hastily denied it. Only, much as he wanted her right then and there, he wouldn't be confined by the proportions of the lounge. Reaching down to scoop her up as if to walk her over some marital threshold, Remi will take them to the bed where they'll have all the space in the world for what comes next.
The Lullaby
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
