From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
The silence makes her a touch uneasy and she tries hard not to fidget as she slips her hands into his, letting him unwrap her hands while she tries to unwrap this silence that's enveloped them, but she's left with nothing to go off of. His eyes are stony, trained on her palms, but he leans down to press gentle kisses to the torn flesh. It eases her nerves slightly, pulling her out of her head, instead drawing her focus to his own hands as he works. He's focused on her injuries, silent as he tends to the torn flesh, doctoring each palm until they're both cleaned and bandaged once more.
Maeve chews on her bottom lip, nerves swirling in her belly, growing stronger as he shifts down her body to prop her ankle on his thigh. With great care, her boot is removed and her pants pushed up, exposing her bruised ankle. The joint a little swollen and mottled with purple. She hisses softly as he applies pressure, but she's able to move it with only mild discomfort. His voice rolls over her, deep and husky, making a request of her that she can't deny. Maeve reaches into her pack, finding the wrap she picked up in town, passing it to him with trembling fingers.
Something feels off and she can't tell if she pushed him too much with her teasing or if he's upset with her for what happened. Maeve can't put her finger on it, but it has her on edge. Her skin prickling in anticipation, waiting for things to break, but not sure what is going to tip it over the edge.
But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush
She doesn't speak again and he wonders if he's scared her properly now. Good. Maybe. He's still feeling annoyed. He's not even really sure why. Partially the teasing, partially because he's in his head again. But he's done wrapping her ankle so he leans down to press a kiss to the inside of her leg. There's a moment of hesitation before he's crawling over her, nose bumping against her's before he kisses her properly. It'd almost be sweet if he wasn't suddenly trying to crowd into her space, teeth bumping against hers as he deepens the kiss.
He forgets that her little dragon is near her. Oh well. He has time to move or something. Locke isn't used to there being something in the way. And it's been a long time since they've done anything. And he's a little touchy, got a bit of a hair trigger dick at the moment. One of his hands slips under her shirt, skimming past her ribcage to cup her breast. He pulls away from their kiss, chest heaving as he leans forward to trail kisses along her neck. He finally finds her ear, biting at the lobe softly. "Do you really want me to punish you, Kitten? I think I should.. You're being very naughty." It's all angry growls as he bites her again. It's been too long and he's too worked up for his own good. Sorry Maeve.
Maeve has just enough time to rouse Aidon from his sleep, sending the thought for him to go sleep in the branches of one of the nearby trees and he takes the instruction easily, unfurling her wings and taking off. She knows he's nearby, but it is hard to focus on anything besides Locke suddenly surging up to meet her, covering her body with his own. There is heat rolling off of him, sinking into her skin as bandaged hands lift to brace against his chest, spine arching as she strains to meet him. It's all tongue and teeth and heat, leaving her absolutely breathless by the time he draws away, lips kiss swollen and parted to drink in greedy sips of air as his lips mark a path up her throat.
Calloused fingers find their way beneath her tank top, skimming over pale skin to cup her breast, drawing a sharp breath from her lungs. Maeve tilts her head to the side, exposing more of her throat to his mouth, earning herself a nip at the sensitive lobe of her ear. Her fingers curl at his shoulders, nails biting into tan skin as she shivers beneath him, his words curling around her spine and slipping to settle in her belly. The heat that is already building between them threatens to overwhelm her already, but she was posed with a question and like hell if she isn't going to at least try to answer him.
"Maybe I do, but I don't think I've really done anything to earn a punishment." Maeve quips, voice dropping into something breathy as she strains beneath him, trying to press closer as he continues his assault on her flesh. A soft whine rises in her throat at the bite, pain flashing through her nerves to mix with the pleasure that's already sparking across her skin.
But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush
Her nails dig into his skin and the pain blooms into pleasure with a low groan. How long has he been waiting? How long have they been dancing around all of this? Its an endless game of teasing until one of them stops it. But she hasn't this time so he'll take what he can get while he can get it. "Teasing me, talking back to me.. All good reasons to punish you." He growls it against her neck, giving her a proper bite. How long has it been since he properly left his mark on her? Too bad he isn't ascended and can't leave a proper scar. Some twisted part of him wishes he could.
"Then again, you said I didn't baby you enough. So maybe you just want me to take care of you.. Lavish you in praise and kisses and sweet words.." Even as he says it, he rolls a pierced nipple between his fingers, a touch rougher than he would normally. "But I don't think you do." Locke's nose bumps against the shell of her ear as he presses a saccharine sweet kiss below it. "So tell me Kitten, what do you want?"
The silence makes sense now. He wasn't angry with her. No, he was wound too tight, worked up, and in desperate need of a release. Every time they've started something recently it's been stopped. Whether it be because the time isn't right or another conversation pulls their attention away. It's been too many days of teasing, too many hours apart, and too many moments ruined for them to stop this now. Maeve has no desire to. Her brain scrambles to hold onto his words, brows knitting together as her breath catches in her throat, back arching away from the tree. "You like when I tease you." She pouts, a huff of irritation pushing past her lips when she finds that she can't manage to get any closer to him, pinned as she is against the trunk of the tree.
A pained cry catches in her throat as his teeth sink into the sensitive flesh, but she bares it to him all the same, a shiver running through her as her cunt seems to clench around nothing. A steady throb growing between her legs as her arousal continues to climb, ratcheting up with each word growled against her skin as her whole body shifts closer to an edge that he's leading her towards. The bite is going to bruise and it shouldn't thrill her the way it does, but she's just as twisted as he is it seems, craving his marks on her skin.
He draws a moan from her even as he handles her nipple roughly, tugging and teasing at the sensitive flesh, causing her to press further into his hand as her nails dig into the skin of his bare shoulders. The kiss he presses beneath her ear is the only sweet thing he gives her as if he's trying to ease her into believing he isn't going to be rough with her, but Maeve knows better. She knows better and she fucking deserves it too. She wants it. "I want you... Want you to have your way with me. Please." Maeve breathes, voice pitching up into something desperate and needy as she squirms beneath him, unable to get as close as she wants to.
But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush
He does like when she teases him. He liked it today. He's just pissy and in his head about stuff. He's not going to tell her that though. He leans back, searching her face for something and only finding lust, good enough for him. His free hand tucks under her jaw, light pressure on her throat as he tilts her head the other way. Leaning back in, he bites her again, harder, intent on leaving a bruise. In the back of his head, all he can think of is their first time together. She had said something similar. He doesn't plan on leaving after this though.
In fact it's quite the opposite, what he feels. Possessive, needy, like he wants to ruin her. It's something that's been lingering since that day on the beach, when they first came back. A feeling he's ignored. They've laid out their terms and he's fine with them in every moment except these. The hand on her throat stays there, just a delicate pressure, not enough to hurt but enough that she doesn't forget it's there. "What's your safe word, Mae?"
Even as he says it, the hand currently tweaking a nipple stops, slipping down her belly under her waistband. He doesn't wait for an answer as he finds her clit, pressing lightly, almost teasingly against the sensitive bud. She's not the only one who likes to tease, if you can call this that.
He draws back to look at her, hazel eyes flecked with gold in the dappled sunlight as he scans her face, looking for something that she's not sure he finds. There is anticipation swimming in her gaze, mixing with the burning need that's flickering in her eyes as she holds steady, lips parting to drink in greedy sips of air as they hang on the precipice. Both eager to fall, but waiting for the other to give in first. His free hand slips up to her throat, thumb pressing underneath the jut of her jaw, applying a pressure that almost eases into pain. Maeve's lashes flutter as she willingly tilts her head for him at the slightest urge from him, licking her lips as she lets out a shuddering breath that quickly morphs into a soft cry as his teeth sink into her throat, leaving another one of his marks behind on her previously unmarred flesh.
Things feel different this time. Edged with something sharper, needier, and more possessive than any of their previous trysts. It's the first time they'll have properly been together since they came home. Since she picked him. It's as if he's staking his claim, replacing whatever lingering marks from others that have long since faded, but Maeve doesn't mind one bit. A thrill rushes through her, body burning for more as she strains and squirms, throat bobbing underneath his palm. Maeve forces her eyes open, looking up at him from beneath thick lashes as she draws her bottom lip between her teeth for but a moment, "Roses." She breathes, the word released in an exhale as she presses her thighs together, trying to relieve the ache that's steadily building there.
It seems he's already willing to have mercy on her as he abandons her nipple in favor of slipping his hand beneath the waistband of her pants, urging her legs to fall open for him as he half straddles her, knee pressing into the soft leaves that cover the floor beneath them. A shudder runs through her, hips surging off the ground at the first bit of contact, desperate for more already. It's a barely there touch as he draws the lightest of circles around her clit, working her up further as a soft moan slips past her lips, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders as she tries in vain to draw him closer to her. The edges of her mind already drawing fuzzy with pleasure, Maeve struggles to find anything to say to tempt him to give her more as her head drops back against the trunk of the tree.
But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush
In the back of his head, he wonders if she's like this for other people or if this is something special, just for him. He doesn't think it is and maybe his grip on her throat tightens just a bit. He'll never hurt her, not if he has the choice, but the threat is there, or at least a facsimile of it. "Mm, roses. Good." He trails the tip of his tongue along the shell of her ear before he bites it carefully. "Do you trust me?" Another laced question but he needs to know.
She jerks against his hand and he almost feels bad. That doesn't make him pick up his pace or anything though. She has to beg him for what she wants, has to let him destroy her and build her back up. At least that's what he wants. He'll just have to see if she's willing to play his game. His tongue goes back to tracing little paths on her neck before he sinks his teeth into a new spot.
06-12-2021, 02:40 PM (This post was last modified: 06-12-2021, 02:40 PM by Maeve.)
Maeve
Do you trust me? The words are exhaled against her ear, warming her skin as she shudders beneath him, goosebumps rising along her flesh. Hips press up against his finger, desperately chasing the exquisite pressure he applies to her clit even as his hand tightens on her throat, a flush spreading over her cheeks. It stands out starkly against pale skin, highlighted by the dappled sunlight that finds them beneath the shade of the tree they're under, shaded from the world outside of this canopy. He might not think this is special, that she's this way only for him, but it is special for her. He's special. If he wanted to be cynical about it nothing they do when it comes to sex is special. It's impossible given her line of work, but Maeve doesn't think of it like that.
She swallows thickly, throat bobbing against the press of his palm against her throat, nodding as the words push past her lips, "I trust you. With everything." Even through the haze of pleasure and the breathy nature of her voice, there isn't a lie to be found. These aren't words said just to soothe his ego and to make him complacent. Maeve means them. The Madame might not know what game he's playing at, but she's a willing participant, needing it just as badly as he does even if she's unaware of that fact.
But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush
A loaded question given a loaded response. Of course. What she says makes his chest tighten up and he presses something akin to a soft kiss below her ear. He finally removes his hand from her throat, shifting his weight as he sits up. His eyes trace over the flush that's spreading down her chest, momentarily distracted by a bead of sweat that rolls down the front of her tank top. He leans down, running his tongue from the dip to her clavicle, pressing a little kiss there. Another beat passes and Locke slips his hand out from her pants as well. His fingers are slick and he takes a moment to clean them before standing up.
If she had any question about his mood, it should be cleared up with the way his cock presses against the front of his pants. One hand threads into her hair while the other pulls his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free. He strokes himself slowly as he pets her head. Locke's chest is heaving as he presses closer, untangling his hand from her hair to brace against the tree. "Think you can take all of me?" Sure, he's not the biggest around but still, he's not small either. And as much as he wants to push her until she breaks, he's just not that kind of guy.
There is a tense moment of silence, leaving Maeve waiting for a response from him, some confirmation that he heard her response and believes it to be true. It doesn't come in the form of words, but a tender kiss pressed into that sensitive spot just beneath her ear, earning him a soft sigh as her head tilts to expose more of her throat to him. The pressure of his hand around her neck disappears as he draws back from her, gazing burning as he rakes it over her, taking in the disheveled state he's left her in. Her breath catches in her throat as he surges forward, tongue tracing the dip of her cleavage, running over her skin and tasting the salt that clings there. He's gone just as soon as he came, drawing his hand from between her thighs, a whimper pushing past her lips at being denied, "Locke.." The plea is pitiful, high pitched and needy even as she watches him take his fingers into his mouth, licking her slick from them languidly.
He stands and she moves to follow him, hands slipping from his shoulders to his waist, bracing herself there as she makes to stand. It only takes him moments to crowd back into her space, keeping her pinned against the trunk of the tree as he palms the length of his cock, fingers slipping gently into her hair. Maeve presses into his touch, arching and rubbing against his hand like a cat finally getting the attention they've been begging for. Her eyes flick up to his, pupils blown wide and swallowing the soft green of her irises as she licks her lips, nodding in response to his question. Pressing her thumb against the jut of his hip, Maeve's lips part and she leans forward, letting the tip of her tongue dart out to lick at the head of his cock. It's light and teasing, not committing to the act of it yet as she gazes up at him almost coquettishly, lashes fluttering as she commits more fully.
With him still holding himself in his palm it's easy to swirl her tongue around the tip, pressing the flat of it to his glans before drawing him into his mouth, suckling lightly before she's bobbing forward. A soft moan rises in her throat, vibrating around him as she draws him deeper into her mouth, not waiting for him to press forward.
But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush
She sounds pitiful but that doesn't stop him from what he's doing. She'll figure that out shortly. She catches on quick though. They've never really done this and he can't help but squirm slightly. Her mouth is warm and wet and all he wants to do is fuck her throat but he'll be patient. He'll let her figure this out at her own pace. She teases him, drawing little sighs and barely there moans from him as he looks down at her. How long has it been since anyone did anything like this for him? Entirely too long for sure.
He rolls his hips just a bit, forcing himself deeper as her nails dig into his hips. "Look at you, being such a good girl. Didn't know you had it in you." Before she can say anything though, his free hand presses against the back of her head, making her take him deeper. A low moan bubbles up in his chest to match her own. He doesn't plan on finishing like this but he is curious..
Maeve doesn't need to figure anything out. This is something she knows well and she's yet to show him just how well she knows it. Not for lack of trying. They just never had time. They never made it this far. Too interested in the other things they could take from each other. Maeve was just as much of a giver as Locke, sweet and willing to do what was asked of her, but only when asked properly. Locke didn't ask, but that doesn't matter. Not when she's speaking the same silent language he is, only interrupted by shuddered breaths and strangled moans. Maeve hollows out her cheeks, sucking hard as her tongue presses against the underside of his cock, keeping that pressure constant as she begins to set a pace that's little more than teasing.
He's smart to stop her from pulling away, a retort already dying on her tongue as he presses in deeper, rolling his hips forward to slip along her tongue. Maeve sighs, lashes fluttering as she draws in breaths through her nose, relaxing her jaw so he might more easily thrust into her mouth. The Madame wants this just as much as he does and if she has her way, she might make him finish like this too only so he can make it up to her later. It's a twisted little game they're playing and she aims to win.
One of her hands slips from his hip to cup his balls instead, rolling them gently in her palm as she bobs her head, taking him even deeper into her throat. There is a moment of pause as she adjusts, feeling him bump the back of it, but it passes quickly and soon she's taking him almost too the root. Spit gathers at the corners of her reddened lips, eyes opening to peek up at him from beneath dark lashes, challenge dancing in her irises as she swallows around him.
But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush
He's mostly playing at a fantasy at this point, some part of him annoyed that she's so good and another thankful for it. Some part of him is aware that what they have will never really be special, just their's. She'll always have other lovers, other partners. Maybe some day he'll be something different to her, something special, but for now he can play pretend. He growls softly as her hand comes up to cup him, his hips stuttering for just a moment at the new sensation.
It's been to long and he doesn't think he'll last much longer. He's always been quick to fire but he's a quick draw too so it's fine. Plus, he does have other plans for tonight. Lots of them actually. He's been thinking about this for the last several days. His fingers tighten for a moment as he presses deeper, lingering for a second before letting her go should she need to breath. "Should stop now unless you don't want to.."
