[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
[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.]