[ this has slipped a little beyond the bounds of "teasing". she puts her brows up in a mockery of innocence, all pursed lips and rosy cheeks, and turns to him and says, ] Should be run outside right now and begin looking?
Don't play coy, Mister Creel. I like man who knows what he wants and says it.
[ and yet... she suppresses a shiver all the same and brushes past him, deliberately brushes past him, to move towards it. her abdomen clenches and unclenches, the sensation of a knife dully throbbing inside. it will be nice to lay down for a while. ]
[It’s his turn for his heart to do a little anticipatory flip in his chest, even when she does something as simple as brush past him. Her casual manner, somehow, is all the more alluring.
He follows, halting beside her wherever she reaches the bedside. He says, all too innocent for the words spoken—]
In that case, I can’t wait for you to spread your legs for me, so I can taste you — warm and slow.
[ sidelong glance, a smile. there he is. goosebumps rising unseen and unbidden along her nape and the backs of her thighs. she does love that he can so easily say these things, even if she has to nudge him for it here and again. when they come, he doesn't have shame. it is a foreign thing to him after all these years.
[Shame is an old and shriveled thing lying dormant inside of him these days. It’s still reamed with thorns that puncture and cut, but so, so rarely is it ever given that privilege — and certainly never with anything like this. Why would he be ashamed of being intimate with her, in any conceivable way? That is tantamount to being ashamed of exulting her, an impossibility now that she’s reached a certain threshold of critical importance to Henry Creel.
So, naturally, his smile doesn’t leave him.]
I’m being patient. But if you won’t lie down on my bed, I’ll pin you down myself.
[ nor does the smile leave her. in fact, she finds herself slowly walking two fingers up his chest, en pointe. ]
I am suggesting, Henry.
[ she loves the feeling of being held and moved and opened how her partner wants—if she has given permission for them to do so. to feel the surprise when her heels are pushed above her head. or the tickling touch of a hand up the inside of her thigh. or ...
[That flush she was missing earlier, it’s coming back, spreading faintly.]
Mm-hm.
[He ensnares her wrist once it’s high enough, just so he can slip his touch under her palm and lift her hand up to kiss softly along her knuckles.]
And I’m telling you to hurry up.
[Gently. Playfully. Two things happen with his powers next: the lock of his door clicking softly, and the feeling of invisible palms pushing her just enough to tilt her into his bed once she’s out of her shoes.]
[ while she is bleeding he could—but it wouldn't be completely safe to. and she doesn't want to risk it, not even as hungry as she is to feel that smooth, warm length nestled inside. it could ruin her life, that one moment of desire.
in a murmur, ] Perhaps you... slip in and sodomize me until I drip from every opening.
[They could be spoiled again, and Henry would be more liable to test that notion if given a chance. But he knows it's a risk she'll not take, bleeding or not, and he supposes he can't blame her.
His hands reach for her top. Are there buttons for him to unbutton, today?]
Oh, don't you paint a picture. I think that's a wonderful compromise. Although...
[His smile flickers at the edges.]
We really should look into solving our little problem. [of no protection!]
[ oh, yes, a long line of tiny pearl buttons down the high collar all the way beneath her trousers waistband. the pain washed away, it is as pristine an outfit as she ever wears.
she sits up on the heels of her hands, allowing her legs to bracket his as he stands over her. ]
[Steps forward so that he's unnecessarily close for someone who's just fussing with her buttons—starting from the top, working his way down—but he always finds close proximity with her both exciting and comforting.]
Shouldn't we?
[Pristine, prim, and proper. He loves to see her like this, so inherently elegant, but he also loves to be the one unfurling it, thread by thread.]
[ down and down, until the parting of her blouse gives to the deep, warm swell of her bust, threatening to spill out, and the buttons underneath strain with the pull.
her tail swishes thoughtfully. she glances down into the line of her cleavage and back up at him. meaningful. ]
[What a sight. It always is. He works the lower buttons off with a bit more expediency than before, if only to free her bosom fully. Is she wearing a bra?]
I do. [That's not a secret.] But you want to know how I feel inside of you, too. You just said so.
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[But would she enjoy it? With him?]
I can show you the best places.
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Cool, dark places?
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You’d be surprised. Warm, sunny spots, too. Spiders aren’t always creatures that just lurk in the shadows.
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But ultimately, he just steps closer to her, and leans in even closer-]
No. It can wait. I have other things I’d rather be doing.
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Oh, suddenly you care about the spiders, Sprezzatura?
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No.
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[Indeed, one would think after being in a drider body, she would appreciate them greatly :) ]
But for now… [He tilts his head in the direction of the bed.] Didn’t we have something else in mind?
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[ and yet... she suppresses a shiver all the same and brushes past him, deliberately brushes past him, to move towards it. her abdomen clenches and unclenches, the sensation of a knife dully throbbing inside. it will be nice to lay down for a while. ]
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He follows, halting beside her wherever she reaches the bedside. He says, all too innocent for the words spoken—]
In that case, I can’t wait for you to spread your legs for me, so I can taste you — warm and slow.
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or so Sprezzatura believes. ]
Why don't you do it?
[ spread her ]
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So, naturally, his smile doesn’t leave him.]
I’m being patient. But if you won’t lie down on my bed, I’ll pin you down myself.
[And spread her. How does that sound?]
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I am suggesting, Henry.
[ she loves the feeling of being held and moved and opened how her partner wants—if she has given permission for them to do so. to feel the surprise when her heels are pushed above her head. or the tickling touch of a hand up the inside of her thigh. or ...
she steps out of her shoes. ]
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Mm-hm.
[He ensnares her wrist once it’s high enough, just so he can slip his touch under her palm and lift her hand up to kiss softly along her knuckles.]
And I’m telling you to hurry up.
[Gently. Playfully. Two things happen with his powers next: the lock of his door clicking softly, and the feeling of invisible palms pushing her just enough to tilt her into his bed once she’s out of her shoes.]
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I keep thinking about you stuffed inside me.
[ when she flexes her fingers, as she does now, it's a blatant attempt at garnering more kisses ]
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I’d like to be. Again. But we were spoiled by the circumstances last time, weren’t we?
[She didn’t have to worry so much about, ah, protection.]
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[ while she is bleeding he could—but it wouldn't be completely safe to. and she doesn't want to risk it, not even as hungry as she is to feel that smooth, warm length nestled inside. it could ruin her life, that one moment of desire.
in a murmur, ] Perhaps you... slip in and sodomize me until I drip from every opening.
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His hands reach for her top. Are there buttons for him to unbutton, today?]
Oh, don't you paint a picture. I think that's a wonderful compromise. Although...
[His smile flickers at the edges.]
We really should look into solving our little problem. [of no protection!]
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she sits up on the heels of her hands, allowing her legs to bracket his as he stands over her. ]
Should we?
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Shouldn't we?
[Pristine, prim, and proper. He loves to see her like this, so inherently elegant, but he also loves to be the one unfurling it, thread by thread.]
Don't you want to? I do.
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her tail swishes thoughtfully. she glances down into the line of her cleavage and back up at him. meaningful. ]
You want to know how it feels. How you fit.
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I do. [That's not a secret.] But you want to know how I feel inside of you, too. You just said so.
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