[SE] what else can we do

Isla thinks she's been playing the part of wanton damsel pretty well so far - mainly because gods if Cal isn't good at what he does, and it's a pleasure to let him pleasure her. But as he withdraws, there's something fae and predatory in her eyes that suggests she has no intention of being a passive participant in this. "More than anything," she purrs, her breath catching in her throat at the feel of his cock against her clit, her hips rocking up as if to get more of him that way. Leaning up to deliver a kiss against his lips, her hand meanwhile presses down against his length, guiding him inside her slick wetness as she nips at his tongue with her fangs. "You feel so good," she groans into his mouth, her legs tightening around his hips. She wants to drive him as wild as he makes her feel, and despite their comparatively vanilla position, Isla has no intention of leaving Varus wanting. ISLA when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die

VARUS

He shudders as he hears her sounds, peering down at her through the curtain of dark hair, seeing just how predatory her gaze has become, and there’s a part of him that certainly wants to see just how wild she can drive him. He has his suspicions, of course, but it’s nothing like the way she presses down and guides him in and she’s so wet that he slips in without much issue. He groans, rolling his hips to press into her further, bracing himself as he reaches up to run a hand through her golden hair.

Her legs make it difficult for him to pull back, sinking into her fully and having to stay there for a few moments longer. He nips at her tongue in turn, before his arm slips around her middle and he twists them, moving to where she’s atop him and he can press up against her, freeing his hands to continue to palm at her breasts. He pulls away from the kiss with it, the shift, and flashes a crooked hazy smirk up at her. “You’re beautiful.” He hums, finally free enough to snap his hips up into her.

stories without a few let downs are boring when told
perfection and poems are a lie when it all unfolds

Lost in their kiss, Isla has every intention of holding Varus in place a little longer, so as he twists to reverse their positions, she huffs out a surprised laugh that tapers off into a moan as he fills her completely. Splayed over him, for a moment it's all she can do to exist here, a wicked smile tugging at her lips. "You're-- fuck--" she hisses, cut off by the surge of his hips, Isla shifting back and arching against him. "I love you," she whispers breathlessly, her fair hair cascading around her shoulders, her blue eyes almost aglow in the dim light of the room. Bucking against him, Isla chooses a rhythm that's slow and hard and deep, one of her hands sneaking between her legs to pleasure herself at the same time. ISLA when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die

VARUS

“Am I?” He drawls, smirking up at her as his hips catch her off guard. She readjusts herself and he pulls himself up just enough to pepper her collarbones and chest with intense kisses, leaving little shimmering marks behind. “I love you too.” He moans against her skin with each deep grind she gives him, his cock driving deeper into her with each motion that he’s helpless to try and accompany.

So he focuses on everything else instead, lavishing her in kisses, both hands free now to tease her nipples, his fangs dragging little lines along the top of her chest above the swell of her breasts. “I just wanna—” he pauses, peering back at her with a hazy look. “Sink my teeth into you.” But he doesn’t know whether it would ruin the manticore he’s been holding onto for seasons now.

Might be worth it to find out, though.

stories without a few let downs are boring when told
perfection and poems are a lie when it all unfolds

After barely any sensation at all, Isla lets herself drown in the feeling of Varus's lips and hands (and cock, for that matter) all over her. The slow, hard grind of her hips is unsustainable in the long run, her fingers tangling in the back of his dark hair to tighten and pull as she picks up the pace. "If you do that, it'll be all over," she pants, though whether it's a warning or a challenge is up to him to decide. She doesn't have any abilities stored at present - not that she's thinking about that at all - so all things considered, Varus shouldn't stand to lose anything. If only she was in any position to tell him any of that; alas, it will remain his choice, but Isla meant what she said. With the doubled pleasure of a bite between two Ascended, she'd be surprised if they don't cum so hard they pass out. ISLA when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die

VARUS

She picks up the pace and he shudders underneath her, his own accompanying rhythm breaking for a second to simply let her ride him. It’s almost dazed, the way he gets back into the rhythm, lips and fangs dragging against her skin. He knows it’ll be all over, he’s felt the double enhancement before, but something tells him this is a perfect time to test it with the one person he cares about the most.

Her fingers tight into his hair, his hips meeting hers with each slow grind, thrusting himself deeper into her as he aches and throbs and feels that edge on the horizon. But he takes his time to build up to it, waiting until she’s sunk down onto his cock as far as they can go combined, before his trail of kisses over the left side of her collarbone turns into a bite, fangs sinking in with an immediately overwhelming pleasure that he gasps and moans into, his hands moving to slip around her middle to keep close as he stutters and breaks.

stories without a few let downs are boring when told
perfection and poems are a lie when it all unfolds

Varus isn't the only one chasing the edge of an orgasm; Isla's fingers are still tending to herself as she grinds against him, each deep thrust of his cock drawing a breathless moan from her lips. It's through half lidded eyes that she gazes down at him, feeling the soft press of his lips turn into the shivering pinprick of fangs, and then-- and then-- Ecstasy crackles along the length of Isla's spine as his hips rise and he surges into her, the medic's fingers flinching in Varus's hair, as if to keep his teeth pressed against her for as long as possible. She thinks she cries out his name, or perhaps it's just a curse that rings against the walls, but either way, her climax crashes through her with an intensity that feels endless, that makes her mouth water and her body want to freeze and writhe at the same time. And gods, it doesn't feel like it ends, Isla caught in a tide of pleasure that almost feels painful, if she could still feel that. ISLA when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die

VARUS

It’s like everything slows, or maybe it speeds up and he’s caught in the middle? He shudders, his voice pairing with hers despite how it’s muffled where his teeth are still sunk in, only belatedly realizing he should pull away. He’s too caught up in crashing and breaking, in the orgasm that rocks him, that blanks his mind, that has him clutching her tightly and has his body thrumming with electricity.

He pulls away with a gasp, his chin lifting, hands rising to grasp each side of her face, tugging her down into a devouring kiss, his body numb(er than normal) and his mind far more blank, far more blank than he thinks it’s ever been before, yes even with the shutting down for a couple of centuries. “Fuck, I love you.” He breathes against her lips, muscles shivering as he keeps his hands on either side of her face.

stories without a few let downs are boring when told
perfection and poems are a lie when it all unfolds

It's the type of crescendo that leads people to cry after sex (were Isla the type to do so); overwhelming and shattering and uplifting all at the same time, she belatedly thinks she understands the poets when they say the earth moved. Still arched against Varus as his fangs finally slip out of her veins, she's ready and waiting for his kiss. Sinking into and against him, her hands press against his chest, and she gently pushes him down into the blankets. "I love you too," she whispers, turning her head to nibble at the inside of his wrist, to kiss the palm of his hand, to melt over him as the hazy afterglow drags at her mind. "Do you think anyone will mind if we just... stay here for a while? The door is open, so they can figure out we're in here pretty much right away." ISLA when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die

VARUS

He’s the equivalent of putty underneath her as she leans into the kiss, as she presses him down into the blankets that he easily drops back onto, his hands threading through her hair to tug it across her back and one shoulder while his arms move to settle around her waist, keeping her close, keeping them together in the afterglow where he doesn’t want to have to think about anything else but her.

He’s sure the laugh that leaves him vibrates against her skin as it rumbles through his chest. “Shit, I left the fucking door open.” He ends the sentence in a soft groan of annoyance at himself, despite it purely being for show. Still, the smile on his face gives away the fact he isn’t upset about it – in fact a part of him daring anyone to come in and try to interrupt them while he’s still sunk into her. “I’m sure they’ll keep their traps shut.” He murmurs, nuzzling in to press another kiss to her cheek.

stories without a few let downs are boring when told
perfection and poems are a lie when it all unfolds

"You did," Isla agrees with a small smile, almost giddy in the aftermath of their combined pleasure. "I never took you for an exhibitionist, Cal." She might pretend to look horrified, but as she leans in to nibble at his earlobe, her wicked tone betrays her. "I'm kind of into it." Laughing softly and letting her head tuck against the crook of his neck, she releases a deep sigh that she absolutely doesn't need, but still feels appropriate in the wake of this bone deep relaxation. "Or maybe they'll ask to join in, and that orgy will happen after all," she murmurs. "Which, fun as that might be, I'd have to decline. Call me a bitch, but I want you all to myself for tonight." ISLA when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die

VARUS

“No?” He hums, his head tilting slightly to give her more room at his ear, exposing more of his face and his neck as he snorts, content in the mixture of emotions and feelings that he can finally feel. “You should see me after a mission.” His voice drops into a playful purr. “You’ll have to meet me here just to get me to calm down.” He teases, flashing her a playful smirk.

As for the rest of it, though, he barks another laugh, turning his head into her again to press a kiss against her cheek, running his hands gently up and down her back and her sides in a soft massage. “They can ask, we’ll just tell them we’ll schedule it into your busy schedule.” He bounces a brow, readjusting his legs which has the added effect of shifting his hips slightly – a motion that causes his breath to hitch. “Tonight you’re all mine.”

stories without a few let downs are boring when told
perfection and poems are a lie when it all unfolds

"Mm, I'm not usually a fan of sending you out to do dangerous things, but I think I could make an exception for that. You in all that leather, with your dark eyes and your mask." Isla's words are murmured against the side of Varus's neck, but that doesn't make them any less full of heat, and he'll be able to feel her smile tipped with fangs against his skin. Humming out a note of lazy pleasure to feel his hands all over her, Isla closes her eyes, and it's her turn to be putty in his arms. Sassy putty, granted, because it hasn't impacted her ability to speak at all. "I might be booked out with you for the foreseeable," she remarks, gasping a little as he shifts his hips. "Careful," she purrs. "I feel like this room will have us ready to go again in just a few minutes." ISLA when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die

VARUS

“Ah, the mask!” He drawls, a smirk rising across his face as he feels her teeth against his skin. “Get this voice of mine inside your head without even moving a muscle…” He trails off, picking up again on the gentle massage, letting the thoughts pour through his mind. It’s almost enough on its own to get him going again, before he shoves it away in the favor of letting her drape against him where he can hold her close, keep her safe, profess just how much he loved her again and again.

He hums a soft laugh after his own misstep, settling again. “Maybe we should just move in.” It’s not a serious idea, but an amusing one nonetheless, until of course she’s purring against his ear and he can feel the sensation with the enhancement of the room start to stir in his gut again. “S’that such a bad thing?” He asks in a whisper, a playful thought occurring to him as he actually intends to press his hips against hers again.

stories without a few let downs are boring when told
perfection and poems are a lie when it all unfolds