sworndevotion | karteria inbox

Her skin is smooth with patches of rougher scales, a pleasing texture for his dulled and numbed metal fingers to glide over. She is so small, so delicate, like a porcelain doll. Almost unbelievably beautiful. As she exhales that soft sound and continues to touch him, the heat grows in his chest and abdomen, as though there's a churning forge of hot metals within it. He continues to kiss her stomach, then down to the divet of her hip, his hands sliding down with his mouth as it moves. He cannot help gripping her hips with a small squeeze, feeling a pang of shame and guilt about the urge to manhandle her.

The rest of him may be hard and impervious, but his mouth is still soft and warm and forgiving, his tongue coming out through his parted lips to make slight contact with her skin. His mouth moves to her inner thighs, the skin here thin and soft around the scales. His kisses here are impossibly gentle, open and wet. He nears her underwear, smelling her scent. It's intoxicating, making his lids flutter as he exhales a hot breath. His mouth hovers over her pubic area, and he looks up at her for permission to go any further.

It is hard to keep her mind functioning properly as his touch explores her, offering her more than she had ever dared to imagine. When her mind had wandered, all she had been able to think of was his kiss, the way his hands had felt holding her, little more than that. Delving into anything more had felt deadly, and she is now reaping that, the shudder of pleasure making her delight obvious.

In his hands, she is a soft, purring creature.

The flick of his tongue, the way he is so soft and gentle with her, makes her ache. Her fingers twitch to hold him, and she forces herself to calm, to be steady, to not let her nerves devour her. She can be good - she must be. She has always been a patient thing.

Licking her lips, she nods.

"Whatever you wish to - I want to try, too."

He nods in return. He feels a sudden and strong desire to serve her, to work until she feels pleasure of the utmost degree. It makes his chest burn more, heat beginning to radiate from him.

Softly, he kisses the warmer, damp spot on the outside of her underwear. His eyes close in reverence, and as he inhales her scent again, he feels almost dizzy with desire.

Carefully, he slips his hands under the garment and slides it down, off of her legs. He parts her thighs gently with his hands to settle between them, laying on his stomach, propped on his elbows. He gazes down with lidded eyes, trying to figure out the best way to do this... And decides he can likely only find that out by actually doing it.

So he dips his head, his lips finding the small tuft of hair and the delicate folds of skin beneath. He kisses those folds, impossibly softly, his breath warm against her. Tentatively, his tongue comes out to brush against... Something. He tries, more in earnest, to lick upward with the flat of his tongue, to map the folds and try to guess where he should concentrate his efforts. He glances up at her, hoping for some sort of direction.

The sensations are all new to her, her lack of exploration making her feel blind. She knows the logic behind being intimate like this, is aware of how it should go and the explanations that came during the preparations for her supposed wedding, but she had never experienced it. She had been afraid to, alone, fearing what might happen with her own touch.

It is hard to do it knowing a Patron observes you, also.

Lifting her hips, she makes space for him, his body still so much larger than her own. Her expression is hot and flushed, and she can't help the tremble of her fingers, the yearning to reach out and touch him, to hold him. She wants to kiss him again, but she finds she wants this more, needing to be owned and devoured in some primal, animal way. Is it the souls inside of her, or is it just her nature alone?

She has no idea.

The beginnings of pleasure arise in her are the careful exploration of his tongue, and she bites her lip, waiting to see if the feeling changes, waiting, until - there. A flick of his tongue against something that makes her shake, and she wiggles, widening her hips and gazing at him, nodding her head.

"T-There. It was..." It was good. Too good. She wants more of it.

He notices her little shake right away, freezes, and commits that spot he just touched to memory. A small protrusion above the folds. He watches her nodding, and nods in return. Understood.

Going right back to that spot, he licks it again tentatively, and then with more soft pressure. He wraps his lips and tongue around the little bud of flesh, enveloping it gently with the warmth of his mouth. If her reaction is good, he will add a little suction there.

He watches her and listens intently; even her tiniest movement and the sound of her breath does not escape his notice.

It's embarrassing, to be the sole focus of his attention, even if the monstrous part of her is fuelled by it. The new reptile soul that she has growing stronger inside her craves this, the urge to sink her teeth in again so different from the spectral that had been the dominant force for so many months. The urge to wrap around him, steal his heat, his warmth, everything she can take wars with her uncertainty and shyness, leaving her shivering under him.

As he moves, as he lets his tongue work her over, pleasure her, legs wrap around him and squeeze, her back arching just a little. She wishes, she thinks, that she could touch him properly, that her fingers could sink into his hair and she could feel the softness of it, to twist and pull gently as she feels the pleasure rise, but she cannot.

All she can do is whimper for him.

Lauralae covers her face with one arm, flushed and breathless, her hips rolling against him on instinct, begging for more of something she does not know.

"Dedue... Please..."

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