maybe i'm a runaway train, maybe i'm a feather in a hurricane
"Hardly," He says with a boyish shake of his head. Powerful? Sure. Special? No.
The alchemist doesn't try to hide the sideways twitch of his lips that borders on a smile to hear the soft murmur drop from her. Once pleasing others was Remi's sole purpose in life; he was a thing to be used in any capacity he could give. Now he wasn't in that position often, but when he was, his old instincts certainly made themselves known.
"I can do that." He whispers against her softly. It's with that same intentionality that he regards her for a moment, as if she's a fresh kill and he's debating where to begin. Gay or not, Remi doesn't need an abundance of experience or his predatory senses in order to smell the sweetness of arousal wafting off of Maeve. Especially not with his lips poised where they are. So it is that there's no mistaking the frustrating gentleness of his lips as his head lowers, and he simply lets his nose and mouth brush against the dark strip of hair that acts as an all too obvious guide for any clueless enough to need it. Exhaling against her, Remi's lips part as if considering the best way to devour her. His fingertips trickle up the back of her thighs, trailing the pathway carved by the curve of her ass, and then pressing against her skin to grab handfuls of her; hoping to maximize the discord between his tentative and rougher explorations of her.
The alchemist doesn't try to hide the sideways twitch of his lips that borders on a smile to hear the soft murmur drop from her. Once pleasing others was Remi's sole purpose in life; he was a thing to be used in any capacity he could give. Now he wasn't in that position often, but when he was, his old instincts certainly made themselves known.
"I can do that." He whispers against her softly. It's with that same intentionality that he regards her for a moment, as if she's a fresh kill and he's debating where to begin. Gay or not, Remi doesn't need an abundance of experience or his predatory senses in order to smell the sweetness of arousal wafting off of Maeve. Especially not with his lips poised where they are. So it is that there's no mistaking the frustrating gentleness of his lips as his head lowers, and he simply lets his nose and mouth brush against the dark strip of hair that acts as an all too obvious guide for any clueless enough to need it. Exhaling against her, Remi's lips part as if considering the best way to devour her. His fingertips trickle up the back of her thighs, trailing the pathway carved by the curve of her ass, and then pressing against her skin to grab handfuls of her; hoping to maximize the discord between his tentative and rougher explorations of her.
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.
