[He had half-expected her to chide him for a useless gift, or a womanly gift, or whatever choice of words she had for it. But much like many of the tough fronts she placed in front of herself, that's just one of her many walls that have long since fallen away. Just as with the time he had brought her leaves, and she had pinned them in her hair. The passing seasons, the new year that inspired his next gift, a show of all the time he had spent by her side. He smiles, a little relieved.]
I bet it'd look nice on your tail, until then. [An until then he won't put too much voice to either, not yet. Not when they still have a war to win.] How about we try it on?
[Assuming she obliges, he takes the ribbon from her and moves to her tail to fasten it, making a small bow so the rest of the cloth can flow down with her tail.]
[It is... a useless gift. He's right. A year ago, she would have been sure to refuse it on those grounds. Months ago, she would have been sure to scold him about it, even if she were secretly not that displeased about it. But now... Especially now, when she can see the faintest imprint of a leather band and an arrowhead pendant beneath his own clothing?
She stands perfectly still as he moves to her rump to tie the ribbon in her long, inky black tail. Well, not perfectly. She does shift her weight a bit, her tail does twitch. Very few people survived standing near a jinba's rear, let alone hers. But he lives through the experience, she watches over her shoulder, and once it seems done...
Hayame flicks her tail a bit, sending the long trail of star-marked yellow silk fluttering.]
It is not... too filly-like?
[She's never worn a ribbon there. Just an occasional wrap around the dock of her tail to create a more elegant arch for Exhibition Day, or a crudely tied satchel of pungent herbs to try and mask the scent of her heat.]
[Knowing she isn't exactly comfortable with him next to her rump for long, her body language betraying as much, he finishes securing the ribbon and stands back. As she flicks her tail, he admires the effect, a flash of streaming gold against black.]
Nah, it looks good. Like stars on a night sky. [And hopefully not too ostentatious for Hayame's usual preferences. In Claude's opinion, a little flashiness never hurt anyone.] But if you want to change it up, you could wear it like a scarf, or fasten it to your quiver, or anything you can think of, really.
[But he keeps saying things that sound beautiful to her. The sight of silver grass in the moonlight from wyvern-back in the night. Stars on a night sky across the ebony of her tail. Even if she was instinctively uncomfortable with presences lingering near her rump, she has learned... not to mind him (certainly not... in certain situations), and he survives what others wouldn't. It was, however, somewhat impractical to keep wearing it there on the daily and asking him to tie it neatly all the time. It will probably end up on her wrist or wrapped around her quiver most days. But today...
She is blushing more noticeably, looking over her shoulder at him in the clothing she had painstakingly searched for and picked out for him.]
There is... One more thing. That I prepared.
[Something that is making her tail twitch vaguely upward.]
[Claude would call himself more an orator than a poet, but maybe they're not dissimilar skills in their own way. He has to force himself to not look at her tail once more as it twitches, instead focusing on her face as if she hadn't given anything away, and she definitely is not blushing. Still, he can't hide his surprise when he replies.]
Something else? Sure, go ahead.
[He's acting casual enough, but his curiosity is certainly piqued. Perhaps he should have prepared another gift, too.]
[Hayame had not planned to buy anything else, and she is not sure... if she should even frame it as a gift, and not just... something that she happened to purchase. She had not planned on doing it. She had just been shopping for her... friends, one of them being a woman who caused her a good deal of grief, because how did you shop for new clothing for a lady who wore so little clothing? It certainly wasn't a style she found appropriate to step out in public in...
But. She had curiously run her fingers over the textile in that room in the Harbinger Oracle, and the sensation had been... pleasant. It had been pleasant, yes. She thinks...]
... Wait there.
[She moves towards her bed, drawing the curtain that separates it from the rest of the room. But the cloth is not so thick that her silhouette isn't still visible, slowly unbuckling her belts and unwinding her pelt wrap, stripping out of her robe.]
Do they have the thing called "lace" in Fodlan... ?
[Maybe it would be silly to ask. But it didn't exist in her lands, so... It seemed worth asking.]
[Claude's mouth suddenly feels dry as he puts the pieces together and realises what she's likely getting at, his eyes on her outline as she undresses.]
They do, yeah. Particularly with noble women.
[Though he can think of an exception, Dorothea in her beautiful lace-embroidered dresses: despite being common born, a career on the stage gave her a taste for the fancier things in life, too. Perhaps wisely, though, he decides not to mention her, lest Hayame get jealous -- he hasn't forgotten her reaction when he simply mentioned Edelgard in passing once.]
[The silhouette moves... slowly. Purposefully. Hesitant, perhaps... but not letting that hesitance stop her from moving to her small dresser, pulling something carefully folded out of it.]
We do not have it in Echigo.
[And she would never have worn it even if they had. It was so... feminine. Noble women... reminds her of something, too. But first. The thing she is unfolding seems thin- it barely registers through the curtain.]
There, most people simply sleep in their robes.
[He would know. She bathed at night, and though she sometimes switched to her spare if she had done something particularly exerting that day, she tended to simply redon her underrobe before bed.]
But here... people have entire garments just for their... home.
[Slowly, she had added things to her space that she had never imagined owning. Not just utilitarian, necessary things. More than one cup. A cloth that draped over the table. A cushion she found to be pleasing to the eye, even though she had enough cushions. So, though she had chickened out of saying "for their lovers"-
She seems to have shrugged into something, tied it... and for a moment she lingers, then unties it, and unbinds the tight wrap around her breasts, only then retying and gathering courage before she slowly pulls the curtain back. First revealed is her blush... and then the garment, a robe of dark blue hemmed short to her withers with long sleeves that actually kind of matches with the yellow of the ribbon, visible just a bit over her rump because of how arched her tail is. But despite how modest the cut is, how it covers as much if not more than her usual garment... but for the silky opaque lines of the collar and hems, the fabric is mostly a fine lace, partially see-through... and likely intended for more erotic things than simply flitting around one's home.
Ah. She meant to say something else, but all she can manage is to repeat the question he had asked her.]
[He's waiting in anticipation for what feels like so long it almost seems voyeuristic -- if not for the fact she had asked him to stay. If it wasn't clear before as to her purpose, it certainly becomes so when she emerges, his eyes drawn to the delicate lace, the way the fit frames her body perfectly, somehow both modest and yet offering a generous glimpse of her shape underneath.
In short, the garment works exactly as intended, and Claude stops drinking her in only long enough to move closer to run his fingers over the sleeve, admiring the material. Admiring her, when his eyes trail back up to meet hers.]
[She had asked him to stay. And she had chosen there to change. If she truly wished to... she could have gone to a portion of the house that actually hid her from him fully. Or she could have asked him to close his eyes. But she didn't.
Hayame shivers just slightly, when his appraisal of the finely tatted lace makes it shift over her skin. It felt unlike anything she had ever worn. It felt scandalous. It was scandalous. But even though she blushes more noticeably at his simple but very effective phrase, even though she thinks... this is when any other person would kiss him (and she does want to, she starts to lean in)-]
The Tribune called me to an appointment today.
[It seems to come out of nowhere as her other arm moves so that she can fuss slightly with the collar of the gift she had given him more directly, smoothing down the line of the burnished yellow silk. It looked nice on him- that color. How foolish to consider, things like that, especially when she knows she might also be using such thoughts to cover her other ones, the confusion, the mixed feelings about-]
For... My meritorious service in the Oracle trials to be rewarded.
[Her tail flicks, conflicted.]
With a title.
[So he was... He was looking at a noble now, technically? Somehow?
... Did that change anything? It felt like it should, that it could, just... For who?]
[He settled a hand at her waist, his face tilted up with the full anticipation to kiss her, to touch her in the clothes she had so daringly tried on for him. So he's blindsided when she suddenly smacks him over the head with... something about Cyrus? Titles?
He leans back a bit and blinks at her, dumbfounded.]
Oh, that's, uh-- [Really weird timing? He swallows, throat bobbing just above where she fusses at his collar, and there's a stilted effort at feigned enthusiasm when he musters a:] Congrats. What's the title?
[Something he can't quite hide is the disappointment behind his expression. He knows how important the conflict is to her, but to bring it up now is almost a non sequitur. Was gaining the Tribune's approval more important to her than this?]
[She really wanted him to kiss her. She’s been thinking about kissing him since he turned around and smiled and said “how do I look?”, and she’s been thinking about how that lace might feel if it were trapped between her skin and his ever since she started pulling the garment on, so why-]
It is not… it is only of consequence here, of course… and it is not so high a rank as…
[What are the ones he had mentioned from his world? Her fingers keep smoothing over his clothes, her tail keeps twitching.]
A “duke”… or a “baron”, but…
[Why is she even saying this? She should just kiss him, before he realizes that she’s been thinking about that night his shard had ended up on the floor, and what he’d said-]
It makes things… easier, doesn’t it?
[She doesn’t say “for you”, because… he had never made her feel less than him, despite somehow being a king, a man, a Duke, whichever. But for others, for others whose opinions he surely had to care about… ?
Yes, she was honored to be granted proof of acknowledgement, even in such an unbelievable way, but more than that… Her fingers tighten slightly in the gifted silk.]
In a way, I suppose... [He trails off, looking unconvinced. It would certainly open doors for her, make her seem more trusted amongst much of the population and the military. He also wonders how much of it is about her own feelings and not just pragmatism, of needing to match up to him. She always has been proud.
He cracks a wry smile as he looks up at her.]
Still, did you really need to bring it up now? You're no more or less beautiful with a title attached. [Why else would she mention it with such strange timing...?]
[She almost just answers, until she realizes what the answer actually is. Until she realizes that if she says it- No, that would be foolish, and it wasn't even possible, anyway, was it, so she didn't know... How could she have even thought for a second that it would be alright to say, to bring up, to even-]
For-
[Except if she backpedals on that, then what can she supply as a reason for why she had brought it up now, of all times, when she really should have simply kissed him and blushed her way through managing some sort of invitation in the way of asking if he needed help figuring out how to fold the clothes she had picked out for him or inquiring if he might like to admire hers more closely. Hayame's mouth opens and closes, her face grows ruddier with embarrassment and frustration until,]
... Nevermind. I was just... thinking of inspiring the citizens of Springstar. Like we talked about.
[The half-lie is awkward on her tongue, but if she just covers it... She plucks at his clothes again, fingers dragging down to the sash and tugging to encourage him closer.]
Oh...? [Did she actually take what he said before seriously, and not just the waffling of someone caught in an awkward situation trying to turn it into a publicity win? He doesn't put too much thought into it, because she's tugging him closer, and he tips his face to hers, his breath against her lips.]
You're an awful liar.
[That's all he says before he kisses her, as if to quieten any protests to the contrary. If he can't get the truth out of her now, he'll figure it out eventually, one way or another.]
[She should be glad just to succeed. And she is, she is, because if it's one thing that she has learned, for better or for worse... It's that kissing shuts people up. It buys time. It's distracting. It... feels good, when she splays her forelegs to lessen the difference in their heights and invite him to kiss him, demure and shying at first, but...
Her fingers tighten in the sash she had carefully picked out, lingering for so long at the tailors that the staff reminded her they needed to close eventually. She nips at his lip, buying just enough time to murmur,]
And you... You are a cad...
[The last time she had called him that, he had been comically covering his eyes to bring a sheet in to the castle baths where she'd been trying to wash away proof of her heat before they spent the night together. For safety. Not like they did now. Had that been... nearly a year ago? Then, she had meant it as an insult. This time, though...
She kisses him again- more confident, even as she shivers slightly at the feel of lace shifting over her skin.]
[Claude has to stifle a laugh in time for her to kiss him again, his hand trailing over lace, thumb ghosting over the peak of a breast, covered only by the thinness of the fabric. As often as he liked to tease her, seeing how she would react to it in this daring new garment of hers only made it more irresistable.]
I suppose a scoundrel like me and a liar like you were made for each other, then.
[He smirks against her mouth, voice low, as if they're more co-conspirators than lovers.]
[In that place, a year ago now, she had barked or snapped at each laugh, too, hadn't she? Always ready to take offense or assume it was some slight against her... Now, she... likes it. That low rumble of a laugh in his throat, humming against her lips. That...
Her attempt to answer the accusation that she is a liar is delayed by the little gasping sound that escapes her lips when she can't hide in their kiss, a hint of a whimper wavering at the end when the half-see-through garment shifts beneath his touch and his thumb teases ever so barely over where her nipple begins to tighten in response to the slight friction of lace on skin. It was so... lewd, so of course-]
Only... only a scoundrel would think think to accuse his lover of being a liar...
[Her fingers tangle anxiously in the new outfit's sash, one moment, two... Before she starts looking for the knot.]
[The knot isn't done up particularly tight; he'd just been trying the outfit on with the intention to take it off soon anyway, even if this wasn't quite the way he envisioned removing it. Still, the whimper emboldens him and he cups her breast in his hand, beginning to trace circles around her tightening nipple with the pad of his thumb.]
Despite your complaints, you seem to like it.
[He'd always laughed off her insults, but now any scorn she poured on him sounded like just another form of endearment to be returned. Nor does she seem to mind the blunted effect her once-sharp tongue now has.]
[Perhaps another person would be more direct and honest, would say “yes, yes, I do like it”, even if they didn’t really know why they did. But Hayame cannot seem to help herself and the tsundere instinct to deny it at least at first, even as she bites her lip and bungles the sash knot through,]
What is there to… to like?
[Certainly not the fact that after being bound away all day her breasts were usually quite sensitive, and certainly not that the sensation of the finely tatted lace cool and slightly textured being rubbed against her skin felt so intentional and lewd atop all of that, making her subconsciously press into his touch as her nipple grows taut and she manages to undo the sash, tugging it carefully from his waist and dropping it back onto the mattress.
The problem is, no matter what she said… Her tail is hitching higher each moment he does tease her, twitching more noticeably behind her now that the movement was accompanied by a silky gifted ribbon marking the proof of her feelings in this matter.]
[He's not wearing any layers underneath the haori-like top, which becomes obvious when the sash is unfastened and falls away, exposing a glimpse of muscled chest.]
What, do you need a demonstration?
[She seems to like it well enough already, he thinks, from how taut her nipple peaks against the fabric, or that movement of silk at her tail. Not for the first time he wishes his body was the right size, the right shape, to reach both sides of her at once -- but he's learned to navigate where he can by by learning every little detail of her body to maximise her pleasure, even with his limitations.
He takes both breasts in hand next, giving gentle squeezes, knowing from watching her prior that they must have been bound all day.]
If there's one thing I like, it's you getting bolder.
[She might be blushing furiously, but she's not castigating herself for being shameful and wanton, or whatever colourful words she might have once used.]
[Red-faced or not, she doesn’t avert her gaze from the skin bared by the shift in his new outfit- No, she is drawn to it, the calloused, strong fingers of an archer (close to his own because of their shared weapon choice, but more pronounced from her time on it) trailing shyly, trying for boldly between the layers of silk to nudge them further apart. He… he was so much hairier than the men of her world, and at first she had found it somewhat odd, but… now her knuckles brush over the dark hair on his chest, fingertips smoothing downwards towards the trail above the hem of the pleated trousers she’d picked out, a soft, aching sound in her throat betraying the mix of pleasure and returning sense of sensation those gentle squeezes were bringing to the unbound swell of her breasts.]
I cannot simply take my hair down now to invite you…
[Well, maybe she could, but the effect… She blushes a bit fiercer, tries to be… bolder.]
So I do…
[It is still so shameless, but… shouldn’t it be fine, to be shameless with someone who-]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
leicesters) wrote2022-12-06 08:26 pm
no subject
I bet it'd look nice on your tail, until then. [An until then he won't put too much voice to either, not yet. Not when they still have a war to win.] How about we try it on?
[Assuming she obliges, he takes the ribbon from her and moves to her tail to fasten it, making a small bow so the rest of the cloth can flow down with her tail.]
no subject
She stands perfectly still as he moves to her rump to tie the ribbon in her long, inky black tail. Well, not perfectly. She does shift her weight a bit, her tail does twitch. Very few people survived standing near a jinba's rear, let alone hers. But he lives through the experience, she watches over her shoulder, and once it seems done...
Hayame flicks her tail a bit, sending the long trail of star-marked yellow silk fluttering.]
It is not... too filly-like?
[She's never worn a ribbon there. Just an occasional wrap around the dock of her tail to create a more elegant arch for Exhibition Day, or a crudely tied satchel of pungent herbs to try and mask the scent of her heat.]
no subject
Nah, it looks good. Like stars on a night sky. [And hopefully not too ostentatious for Hayame's usual preferences. In Claude's opinion, a little flashiness never hurt anyone.] But if you want to change it up, you could wear it like a scarf, or fasten it to your quiver, or anything you can think of, really.
no subject
[But he keeps saying things that sound beautiful to her. The sight of silver grass in the moonlight from wyvern-back in the night. Stars on a night sky across the ebony of her tail. Even if she was instinctively uncomfortable with presences lingering near her rump, she has learned... not to mind him (certainly not... in certain situations), and he survives what others wouldn't. It was, however, somewhat impractical to keep wearing it there on the daily and asking him to tie it neatly all the time. It will probably end up on her wrist or wrapped around her quiver most days. But today...
She is blushing more noticeably, looking over her shoulder at him in the clothing she had painstakingly searched for and picked out for him.]
There is... One more thing. That I prepared.
[Something that is making her tail twitch vaguely upward.]
Do... you wish to see it?
no subject
Something else? Sure, go ahead.
[He's acting casual enough, but his curiosity is certainly piqued. Perhaps he should have prepared another gift, too.]
no subject
But. She had curiously run her fingers over the textile in that room in the Harbinger Oracle, and the sensation had been... pleasant. It had been pleasant, yes. She thinks...]
... Wait there.
[She moves towards her bed, drawing the curtain that separates it from the rest of the room. But the cloth is not so thick that her silhouette isn't still visible, slowly unbuckling her belts and unwinding her pelt wrap, stripping out of her robe.]
Do they have the thing called "lace" in Fodlan... ?
[Maybe it would be silly to ask. But it didn't exist in her lands, so... It seemed worth asking.]
no subject
They do, yeah. Particularly with noble women.
[Though he can think of an exception, Dorothea in her beautiful lace-embroidered dresses: despite being common born, a career on the stage gave her a taste for the fancier things in life, too. Perhaps wisely, though, he decides not to mention her, lest Hayame get jealous -- he hasn't forgotten her reaction when he simply mentioned Edelgard in passing once.]
I take it that's what you're trying on?
no subject
We do not have it in Echigo.
[And she would never have worn it even if they had. It was so... feminine. Noble women... reminds her of something, too. But first. The thing she is unfolding seems thin- it barely registers through the curtain.]
There, most people simply sleep in their robes.
[He would know. She bathed at night, and though she sometimes switched to her spare if she had done something particularly exerting that day, she tended to simply redon her underrobe before bed.]
But here... people have entire garments just for their... home.
[Slowly, she had added things to her space that she had never imagined owning. Not just utilitarian, necessary things. More than one cup. A cloth that draped over the table. A cushion she found to be pleasing to the eye, even though she had enough cushions. So, though she had chickened out of saying "for their lovers"-
She seems to have shrugged into something, tied it... and for a moment she lingers, then unties it, and unbinds the tight wrap around her breasts, only then retying and gathering courage before she slowly pulls the curtain back. First revealed is her blush... and then the garment, a robe of dark blue hemmed short to her withers with long sleeves that actually kind of matches with the yellow of the ribbon, visible just a bit over her rump because of how arched her tail is. But despite how modest the cut is, how it covers as much if not more than her usual garment... but for the silky opaque lines of the collar and hems, the fabric is mostly a fine lace, partially see-through... and likely intended for more erotic things than simply flitting around one's home.
Ah. She meant to say something else, but all she can manage is to repeat the question he had asked her.]
How do I look... ?
no subject
In short, the garment works exactly as intended, and Claude stops drinking her in only long enough to move closer to run his fingers over the sleeve, admiring the material. Admiring her, when his eyes trail back up to meet hers.]
Gorgeous.
no subject
Hayame shivers just slightly, when his appraisal of the finely tatted lace makes it shift over her skin. It felt unlike anything she had ever worn. It felt scandalous. It was scandalous. But even though she blushes more noticeably at his simple but very effective phrase, even though she thinks... this is when any other person would kiss him (and she does want to, she starts to lean in)-]
The Tribune called me to an appointment today.
[It seems to come out of nowhere as her other arm moves so that she can fuss slightly with the collar of the gift she had given him more directly, smoothing down the line of the burnished yellow silk. It looked nice on him- that color. How foolish to consider, things like that, especially when she knows she might also be using such thoughts to cover her other ones, the confusion, the mixed feelings about-]
For... My meritorious service in the Oracle trials to be rewarded.
[Her tail flicks, conflicted.]
With a title.
[So he was... He was looking at a noble now, technically? Somehow?
... Did that change anything? It felt like it should, that it could, just... For who?]
no subject
He leans back a bit and blinks at her, dumbfounded.]
Oh, that's, uh-- [Really weird timing? He swallows, throat bobbing just above where she fusses at his collar, and there's a stilted effort at feigned enthusiasm when he musters a:] Congrats. What's the title?
[Something he can't quite hide is the disappointment behind his expression. He knows how important the conflict is to her, but to bring it up now is almost a non sequitur. Was gaining the Tribune's approval more important to her than this?]
no subject
[She really wanted him to kiss her. She’s been thinking about kissing him since he turned around and smiled and said “how do I look?”, and she’s been thinking about how that lace might feel if it were trapped between her skin and his ever since she started pulling the garment on, so why-]
It is not… it is only of consequence here, of course… and it is not so high a rank as…
[What are the ones he had mentioned from his world? Her fingers keep smoothing over his clothes, her tail keeps twitching.]
A “duke”… or a “baron”, but…
[Why is she even saying this? She should just kiss him, before he realizes that she’s been thinking about that night his shard had ended up on the floor, and what he’d said-]
It makes things… easier, doesn’t it?
[She doesn’t say “for you”, because… he had never made her feel less than him, despite somehow being a king, a man, a Duke, whichever. But for others, for others whose opinions he surely had to care about… ?
Yes, she was honored to be granted proof of acknowledgement, even in such an unbelievable way, but more than that… Her fingers tighten slightly in the gifted silk.]
no subject
He cracks a wry smile as he looks up at her.]
Still, did you really need to bring it up now? You're no more or less beautiful with a title attached. [Why else would she mention it with such strange timing...?]
1/2
[She almost just answers, until she realizes what the answer actually is. Until she realizes that if she says it- No, that would be foolish, and it wasn't even possible, anyway, was it, so she didn't know... How could she have even thought for a second that it would be alright to say, to bring up, to even-]
For-
[Except if she backpedals on that, then what can she supply as a reason for why she had brought it up now, of all times, when she really should have simply kissed him and blushed her way through managing some sort of invitation in the way of asking if he needed help figuring out how to fold the clothes she had picked out for him or inquiring if he might like to admire hers more closely. Hayame's mouth opens and closes, her face grows ruddier with embarrassment and frustration until,]
no subject
[The half-lie is awkward on her tongue, but if she just covers it... She plucks at his clothes again, fingers dragging down to the sash and tugging to encourage him closer.]
You can forget it and kiss me instead...
no subject
You're an awful liar.
[That's all he says before he kisses her, as if to quieten any protests to the contrary. If he can't get the truth out of her now, he'll figure it out eventually, one way or another.]
no subject
Her fingers tighten in the sash she had carefully picked out, lingering for so long at the tailors that the staff reminded her they needed to close eventually. She nips at his lip, buying just enough time to murmur,]
And you... You are a cad...
[The last time she had called him that, he had been comically covering his eyes to bring a sheet in to the castle baths where she'd been trying to wash away proof of her heat before they spent the night together. For safety. Not like they did now. Had that been... nearly a year ago? Then, she had meant it as an insult. This time, though...
She kisses him again- more confident, even as she shivers slightly at the feel of lace shifting over her skin.]
no subject
I suppose a scoundrel like me and a liar like you were made for each other, then.
[He smirks against her mouth, voice low, as if they're more co-conspirators than lovers.]
no subject
Her attempt to answer the accusation that she is a liar is delayed by the little gasping sound that escapes her lips when she can't hide in their kiss, a hint of a whimper wavering at the end when the half-see-through garment shifts beneath his touch and his thumb teases ever so barely over where her nipple begins to tighten in response to the slight friction of lace on skin. It was so... lewd, so of course-]
Only... only a scoundrel would think think to accuse his lover of being a liar...
[Her fingers tangle anxiously in the new outfit's sash, one moment, two... Before she starts looking for the knot.]
no subject
Despite your complaints, you seem to like it.
[He'd always laughed off her insults, but now any scorn she poured on him sounded like just another form of endearment to be returned. Nor does she seem to mind the blunted effect her once-sharp tongue now has.]
no subject
tsundereinstinct to deny it at least at first, even as she bites her lip and bungles the sash knot through,]What is there to… to like?
[Certainly not the fact that after being bound away all day her breasts were usually quite sensitive, and certainly not that the sensation of the finely tatted lace cool and slightly textured being rubbed against her skin felt so intentional and lewd atop all of that, making her subconsciously press into his touch as her nipple grows taut and she manages to undo the sash, tugging it carefully from his waist and dropping it back onto the mattress.
The problem is, no matter what she said… Her tail is hitching higher each moment he does tease her, twitching more noticeably behind her now that the movement was accompanied by a silky gifted ribbon marking the proof of her feelings in this matter.]
no subject
What, do you need a demonstration?
[She seems to like it well enough already, he thinks, from how taut her nipple peaks against the fabric, or that movement of silk at her tail. Not for the first time he wishes his body was the right size, the right shape, to reach both sides of her at once -- but he's learned to navigate where he can by by learning every little detail of her body to maximise her pleasure, even with his limitations.
He takes both breasts in hand next, giving gentle squeezes, knowing from watching her prior that they must have been bound all day.]
If there's one thing I like, it's you getting bolder.
[She might be blushing furiously, but she's not castigating herself for being shameful and wanton, or whatever colourful words she might have once used.]
no subject
I-
[Red-faced or not, she doesn’t avert her gaze from the skin bared by the shift in his new outfit- No, she is drawn to it, the calloused, strong fingers of an archer (close to his own because of their shared weapon choice, but more pronounced from her time on it) trailing shyly, trying for boldly between the layers of silk to nudge them further apart. He… he was so much hairier than the men of her world, and at first she had found it somewhat odd, but… now her knuckles brush over the dark hair on his chest, fingertips smoothing downwards towards the trail above the hem of the pleated trousers she’d picked out, a soft, aching sound in her throat betraying the mix of pleasure and returning sense of sensation those gentle squeezes were bringing to the unbound swell of her breasts.]
I cannot simply take my hair down now to invite you…
[Well, maybe she could, but the effect… She blushes a bit fiercer, tries to be… bolder.]
So I do…
[It is still so shameless, but… shouldn’t it be fine, to be shameless with someone who-]
I do need one…
[A demonstration.]