in these trying times we're not trying

maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane

Remi wishes that was true. That he could simply be safe to be around. Still, he nods his head, stilling as her hands trail from his chest to his cheek. Before he might say more—though what would he say? and what sort of man was he to call a halt that he might convince her of just what and who he was?—he's being pulled down to her. Easily he blankets her, his body larger than hers in every single place they touch.

Kissing her back, his tongue and lips more focused and perhaps even demanding of hers, Remi presses himself against her. It's strange that his is the only pressure between them; Remi is used to feeling Ronin's erection vying for space against his own. Not erect enough to properly proceed, Remi places a hand next to her ribcage and another near her hip as if affixing her to the rug like one might mount a butterfly. Fluttering kisses from her jaw, to her collarbone, the swell of her breast, he lingers near her nipple. "Did the pain of it feel good?" He wonders in a whispery and rough voice, pale eyes flicking up toward her face, before he captures one of the barbells with his tongue.

THE LULLABY

maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing

Maeve

He seems like he wants to argue with her before he's kissing her. This kiss isn't led by her. Not this time. He's kissing her like he actually needs to taste her. His mouth and tongue insistent against her own as she arches beneath him before his hands are pressing her down, clearly wishing to keep her in place. Maeve groans softly into his mouth, daring to suck on his tongue before he's drawing away from her to blaze a path along her jaw all the way to her nipple. Maeve glances down at him, lips twitching into a small smile, "Not particularly." She breathes before that same breath catches in her throat, morphing into a moan as her fingers wind into his hair.

"It makes this better... So much better." And it does. Everything is more sensitive. The nerves eager for attention and his tongue as her back arches to press her breast further into his waiting mouth. The heat of his cock is pressed near her thigh and she shifts to tease him to the best of her ability. The ache between her thighs is growing harder to ignore and she knows that if he were to touch her right now his fingers would come back soaked. Maeve can't help hoping he actually touches her soon otherwise she might lose her mind before then.

Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending

maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane

Remi raises a brow at that, having no piercings to compare it to. "Is that so." He mumbles with a dark smile, aiming to take full advantage of the heightened sensitivity. It would be with his fingers though, for his tongue had other places to be. And, giver that he was, it stood to reason that if his sexuality now included women after all these years, pleasing one would be as arousing for him as anything else might be.

Letting his calloused palm revolve over one of her nipples, Remi lets teeth suddenly sharpened to points graze down the firm skin of her belly. His tongue trails the shape of the snake that hugs her curves, before his shoulders round over her hips. Pausing, Remi looks up at Maeve from between her thighs as he draws closer to her lips, already glistening and welcoming with her own arousal. His tongue enters her, and it's with a desire to taste her rather than to provide additional lubrication that he licks upward, only stopping his glacial descent once the tip of his tongue rests upon her clit. At the same time his palm has ceased its slow rotation that his fingers might press and rub her nipple between his fingertips.

THE LULLABY

maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing

Maeve

His smile holds the promise of wicked things as his eyes level on her. Maeve inhales slowly, nodding her head as her fingers tighten in his hair, "It is.." Comes the sighed reply as his palm moves to cup her small breast. Her eyes flutter closed for a moment as she arches into the sensation of his palm. Calloused skin works against hers and it only adds to the sensation and the budding heat in her belly. A heat that is quickly starting to burn through her as he works his way down her body. Teeth scrape along sensitive flesh as she moans, squirming beneath him as her thighs fall open without any urging. Maeve plants her feet flat on the rug, baring herself to him as she forces her eyes open to look at the man between her thighs.

She wanted this earlier, stopping him before he could actually get started and she's glad that he's decided to circle back to this. Her pupils are blown wide, swallowing that gentle green of her irises as she watches his head dip towards her folds, tongue darting out to taste her with purpose. She moans, the sound depraved and needy as it fills the room to mix with the crash of the waves outside of her window. The fingers in his hair tighten and her hips lift, pressing eagerly towards his mouth as his tongue teases the sensitive bud of her clit. All of the back and forth worked her up more than she realized and she's borderline desperate for his touch as he teases her nipple between deft fingers. "Remi.." His name is an exhale as she squirms in his grasp, her free hand moving to grip the fur beneath her.

Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending

maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane

'Yes Maeve?' The alchemist wonders with boyish naivety as if the fingers in his curls and her moans of encouragement didn't tell him all he needed to know. Letting his hands finally move down to her hips, without moving his tongue away from her, he drops his shoulder and adjusts her calves with his hands so that her legs could sit easily on either side of his neck. With that done, his palms are free to sink fully below her. In the beginning, she might have been lifting her hips enticingly toward him, but now she was his for the taking.

And take he would.

With the scruff on the sides of his cheeks acting as a bright contrast to the soft dance of his mouth against her, it's with a tongue that won't tire that he laps at her again and again. Fueled not only by the sounds made through parted lips but by the bright colour of her emotions as well, it's easy enough for an astute mind to calibrate his movements in time with whatever it was she was thinking of in the moment. Faster or slower, more or less pressure, even the tilt of her hips based on his own position: she only needed to have an errant feeling about it in order for him to trailblaze forward.

Spreading his wings up and around her as if belatedly wanting to preserve her modesty (though it wasn't that at all), it was a shame that the apartment didn't have mirrors on the ceiling (did it?) for the tableau of dark-haired madame upon a fur pelt, swathed in feathers with a demigod between her thighs, was a sight that Remi might have liked to take in for himself.

THE LULLABY

maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing

Maeve

The bend of her knees rest over his shoulders as he adjusts her and he angles her hips up so she's perfectly presented for him to take as he wishes. Maeve's fingers tighten in his hair and she huffs, a pout barely having a moment to settle on her pretty features before they're twisting up in pleasure again. She wants to snap at him with some retort as he plays dumb despite the way his tongue presses between her folds greedily. Except whatever words she has for him are swallowed by her whimpers and moans. There are a myriad of sensations coursing through her body. The rasp of her stubble against the inside of her thighs, his tongue swirling around her clit, and his hands gripping her hips. Soon a new sensation joins the fray in the form of feathers teasing across her skin.

Her whole body shivers as the feathers brush over sensitive flesh, barely touching her skin and that's just as maddening as his tongue lapping at her. It doesn't occur to her that his magic might be helping him along in this matter and even if she did she doesn't fucking care. Not when it feels so good. When he's using it to drive her higher towards that edge. Her thighs start to tremble around his head, spasming and twitching as her body responds eagerly to his ministrations. Maeve forces her eyes open, looking down at him between her thighs before a whine catches in her throat. It's high pitched and utterly needy, climbing towards the rafters of the building, "Don't stop.. M'close." She catches her bottom lip between her teeth, that grip in his hair tightening further as she tugs him closer. Despite the fact that there isn't any closer for him to get.

Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending

maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane

This time the alchemist doesn't play stupid. Instead, he all but growls, letting the vibration of the sound travel against her as he continues his ministrations with a doubled effort. He doesn't let himself get hasty with it though. Maeve isn't some runaway horse frantically dodging potholes down a back lane; she's a thoroughbred, well-toned to run this race, and there's no need to go in for the spur or whip now. He can feel her rising need, the shaky sort of panic that comes with being so close but knowing that any asshole with weak hand-muscles or a lazy tongue might ruin it. So it is that Remi does his best to stay on the side of frustration that has her tugging at his curls, instead of tensing her belly to beat him there before he ruins it.

"Cum, then." He commands, a smile on his lips that she'll no doubt feel. Gripping her hips in his hands, Remi pulls in a deep breath to ensure that there needn't be any further interruptions on his part until he's pressed her towards the peak of her orgasm and let her fall in a flurry of his feathers to the other side.

THE LULLABY

maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing

Maeve

The growl does more for her than she wants to admit, but he already knows it. He can feel it. The thrill it sends through her and the moan she gives him in response as her body strains. She's so close. So fucking close. He doesn't stop and she's never been more thankful to have someone like him between her legs. So dedicated to the cause. As if her orgasm is the one thing he craves more than anything. Maeve rocks her hips as much as she's able to towards his mouth even though the way he's gripping her doesn't leave much room for movement.

His command runs through her and the tightening in her belly gives away just how close she is to falling over that edge for him. Her back arches, drawing taut like the string of a bow waiting to be released. Maeve almost wails with her release, feeling that all over heat that rolls through her, causing her thighs to tremble around his head as they reflexively tighten. There is a hot gush of slick to meet his tongue and her fingers tighten before relaxing her hold on him with a sigh as she slumps back against rug, "Good boy.." Maeve hums, a smile tugging on her lips at the praise she gives him.

Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending

maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane

Remi hums of note of satisfaction against her as the dam breaks. She quivers against him, and he's all too content to hold onto her as she trembles her way back down to sanity. If his back will be bruised from her heels digging into him, or even his neck from her thighs, he thinks little of it just now. Fighting to catch his own breath after having to filter it between what would feel best for her, Remi too feels himself relax and loosen as she does.

Her praise has him smirking between her thighs as he softly lowers his shoulders so that her legs can fall off of him, and he can gently set her lower back down. With lips well moistened from his ministrations, Remi kisses the inside of her thigh as he moves from beneath them, letting them settle however is most comfortable. Stretching his wings back so that he can come and rest on his side next to her, Remi props the side of his head up on one of his palms, looking over her. Stretching out a wing so that his flight feathers can trickle along that tattoo that threatens to swallow one of her breasts, his pale eyes flicker up to hers. "Which are you? The flower? The snake? The gardener?"

THE LULLABY

maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing

Maeve

He lowers her back onto the rug gently and her limbs are heavy with that post orgasm buzz. She lazily lifts a hand, cupping his cheek and letting her thumb brush over his bottom lip before she guides him to her for a sweet kiss. The woman doesn't care that her essence is smeared across his lips, if anything she take her time in tasting herself on his tongue, sighing into the kiss. Maeve pulls back with a small smile, scooting closer to him so she's tucked into his side as his feathers tease over her tattoo. The question pulls a quiet laugh from her as she tries not to squirm as the feathers tickle her ribs. "Depends on the day and depends on the person." She answers with a hum, meeting his gaze with heavy eyes, "What do you think I am?" The Madame arches a brow, fingers trailing over his bare chest, being careful to avoid the starburst at the center of his chest.

Maeve can feel him hard and straining against her hips, plans to do something about that already forming in her head. Maybe she'll let him have her mouth first. Maybe she'll use her hand as she straddles his thighs. Maybe she'll grind against him. So many options and all of them are at her disposal, but she's not sure how far the beastie in her bed will let her get with her plans given the fact he doesn't like being told what to do. Only one way for her to find out. The girl moves, rolling onto her side and pushing at his shoulder to urge him onto his back so she can attempt to straddle him.

Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending

maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane

'Sorry.' Remi says with a laugh, pulling back a wing to avoid tickling her more. Her question has a thoughtful look coming over his features, flushed and boyish as they are. "I think..." He lets his eyes wash up toward hers, narrowed as if he might have some ability that let him find the answer within her. And as far as she knew, he just might. "The gardener, I think. Especially here. Protecting, nurturing. Enjoy the fruits of your labour...being able to offer them as gifts..." He shrugs lightly as she fits herself against him, fingers tracing scars that no longer hurt. Remi would be quite content to simply just lay here like this, on the rug, talking about tattoos and metaphors for each of them. But...that, he realized, was perhaps starting to answer to the question Maeve had asked him so long ago.

Still, he does as is wordlessly instructed of him. Rolling onto his back, he waits, apprehensively almost, to see what it is she might have planned. Had she plunged his tongue between her thighs again, he'd have complied without a second thought. But Remi doesn't need to reach between his own legs to feel he isn't aroused as most men would be having had the tour of Maeve as he just has.

THE LULLABY

maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing

Maeve

The answer is surprising in a way, but she likes it. She likes the way he says it and the reasoning he gives and the way he looks at her so damn thoughtfully. Maeve hums, running her hands over his chest as she straddles his waist. The heat between her thighs rests above him and she reaches for his length, giving him a slow stroke before she positions him so he's nestled between her thighs. Maeve rocks slowly, intent on just teasing him to see if the wet slick does anything for him. "I like the way you talk about me. It's so poetic." She teases as she bends down to kiss along his jaw. Her teeth can't form sharp points like his, but it doesn't stop her from letting her canines drag along his pulse before biting down there.

He seems to like it when she gets a little rough. Not that she can do much damage to him, but she can try. Maeve soothes the bite with her tongue, admiring the mark she leaves on his skin. "You can tell me to stop.. If you want to stop.. or I can make you cum." She's sure she can make him cum. Almost positive. As long as he tries to give in to the sensation. The experience of being here with her. Maeve nips at the lobe of his ear, tugging gently as her fingers find his nipples, thumbs brushing back and forth across them as her hips continue to leisurely roll.

Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending

maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane

The alchemist pulls in a steady stream of air through his nose as she reaches for him, nestling him between her thighs. "You can blame that on my accent." He says with a slight shake of his head, still only as her lips—and then teeth—carve out pathways down his jawline.

His fingers trail up her sides, featherlight as they trickle up the ridges of her ribs before falling inward across her shoulders. Staring up at the ceiling Remi's lashes flutter as he swallows, his mouth suddenly dry. "I...it..." Her hips roll slightly, and Remi can't deny that it pulls focus from the thoughts floating around in his head. "..it feels like when I was younger...pretending." He manages at last.

"This was the point where I would frantically think of someone else." Teenaged-Remi, when giving one orgasm proved not enough, would think thoughts sinful in the world he lived in (truthfully, it was quite vanilla in fact), of other men that his partner might have something to work with. With enough mental fortitude he could usually outlast whatever woman he was in bed with, leaving them to think his rapidly shrinking erection after they'd finished meant he had as well.

THE LULLABY

maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing

Maeve

Her movements slow and she draws back to look at him, letting herself lay against his chest lightly instead. Maeve reaches up to brush his hair back from his face, eyes soft and understanding as she gazes down at him. There isn't any disappointment to be found in her green eyes. Just a gentle understanding as she regards him, "That's okay. We were testing things, right?" Maeve murmurs, fingers trailing to his cheek and cupping it lightly as she lets her thumb brush across his bottom lip tenderly. She smiles down at him, not moving off of him yet, but not moving her hips any longer. No, the Madame stops completely besides the hand on his cheek and her body draped over his there is nothing else happening.

"We have a few options... We can stop or you can tell me things you like and we can try those. My feelings won't be hurt either way. I'm here to help you." She tilts her head to the side, letting her fingers continue to trail over his skin as she lays on his chest. The last thing she wants is for him to feel as if he's disappointing her. This was never about her or what she wanted. This was about him. Any fun she had was just extra.

Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending