SUNJATA
the flood
but am i too late? or hearts to your spades,
if i don't suit you? then what do you want from me?
if i don't suit you? then what do you want from me?
Sunjata is good at hiding his desires when he wants to. He’s also quite good at challenging back. So it comes as no surprise to him as she peers up at him, informs him that he’s correct, that the smirk remains and his gaze remains heavily lidded, his hand cupping her jaw in order to get more of her attention while her hand keeps working. And gods does it ache, burning a hole through him that he tries to temper with the simple promise of being able to bury himself into her.
She stands slowly after she shivers and his smirk grows catlike in its playfulness, his arms moving away from the desk to wrap around her and keep her flush against him. The kiss extends on until they’re both out of breath, tongues intertwining, his hands roaming along every expanse of skin he can. Eventually, though, one of her arms wraps around his neck and his shoulders, and Sunjata takes the permission she grants with a surprising amount of eagerness, humming a soft “thank the gods” under his breath.
In a swift motion, his hands drag down, cupping her around her ass, picking her up with ease and spinning them to set her on the desk once more. He lets her get settled while he leans over to reach into the drawer where he’d gotten the matches before, digging out protection (because he’ll be damned if another situation arose such as the one with Safrin), and slips it on with practiced ease before he’s focusing on her again, surging toward her with absolutely waning restraint to press hard kisses along her jaw and to her neck, drawing in another mark to join the other, his hands traveling along her sides to her hips and down along the outside of her thigh, his wings pressing down against the hard wood of the table to give him a bit more support.
She stands slowly after she shivers and his smirk grows catlike in its playfulness, his arms moving away from the desk to wrap around her and keep her flush against him. The kiss extends on until they’re both out of breath, tongues intertwining, his hands roaming along every expanse of skin he can. Eventually, though, one of her arms wraps around his neck and his shoulders, and Sunjata takes the permission she grants with a surprising amount of eagerness, humming a soft “thank the gods” under his breath.
In a swift motion, his hands drag down, cupping her around her ass, picking her up with ease and spinning them to set her on the desk once more. He lets her get settled while he leans over to reach into the drawer where he’d gotten the matches before, digging out protection (because he’ll be damned if another situation arose such as the one with Safrin), and slips it on with practiced ease before he’s focusing on her again, surging toward her with absolutely waning restraint to press hard kisses along her jaw and to her neck, drawing in another mark to join the other, his hands traveling along her sides to her hips and down along the outside of her thigh, his wings pressing down against the hard wood of the table to give him a bit more support.
so we're not written in the stars,
but i'm okay with that. i'm okay with anything
but i'm okay with that. i'm okay with anything
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
