maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane
Like a dog whose hackles are up, Maeve's kisses do little to soothe down the predator that her motions have awakened. Swallowing hard as she forced his fingers to unclench, he nods, though there's still a good amount of tension in the gesture. The kisses, the bath...it all makes more sense now just how the acting-Madame is going to try and help him potentially understand more about his preferences. The easy confidence he feels pulse from her feels like a rose blooming in a midnight field, and though he's conflicted, it's easy to be swept away by it.
"You should know—" He mumbles as his hands are guided toward her hips. The silken fabric of her robe is cool to the touch, though the body beneath is anything but. Ronin was always blistering hot, and Isla quite cool; this was somewhere in the middle. With hands both strong and gentle, Remi lets his fingers fit around her waist, his index fingers nearly touching one another. It nearly makes him laugh, how small she is compared to someone like Ronin, until he remembers what he'd been trying to say before. "—I can feel what you're feeling, when you touch me. My skin, that is."
It was quite invasive, his magic. Or it could be, at least, and Remi always felt compelled to make sure others knew what they were opening themselves up to by being in contact with him. "Not thoughts, but...emotions. Feelings."
It's her bite more than the hands undoing his pants or the featherlight dance of her fingers that make him shiver. Closing his eyes, Remi exhales a shaky breath that was meant to help ground him in the moment, but fails utterly.
"You should know—" He mumbles as his hands are guided toward her hips. The silken fabric of her robe is cool to the touch, though the body beneath is anything but. Ronin was always blistering hot, and Isla quite cool; this was somewhere in the middle. With hands both strong and gentle, Remi lets his fingers fit around her waist, his index fingers nearly touching one another. It nearly makes him laugh, how small she is compared to someone like Ronin, until he remembers what he'd been trying to say before. "—I can feel what you're feeling, when you touch me. My skin, that is."
It was quite invasive, his magic. Or it could be, at least, and Remi always felt compelled to make sure others knew what they were opening themselves up to by being in contact with him. "Not thoughts, but...emotions. Feelings."
It's her bite more than the hands undoing his pants or the featherlight dance of her fingers that make him shiver. Closing his eyes, Remi exhales a shaky breath that was meant to help ground him in the moment, but fails utterly.
THE LULLABY
maybe it's a long gray game, but maybe that's a good thing
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.
