virgocat | Closed

He lets out a needy sound as she pushes up against him. His breath is low and comes out in pants as he kisses her like he wants to inhale her, like she's air.

"I want you," he breathes against her cheek. He's so close to saying something else, something close to that. "Syeira..."

He kisses every part of her he can reach, desperate to feel her.

She's not sure what she wants. To cry, or laugh, or rip holes in his shirt with her nails just to get a hand on his skin again. She's full of emotions that pull her in a thousand directions. But what she does know is that whatever they pick, she wants to be with him.

"I'm yours," she pants along the line of his throat, between hot kisses that are anything but hesitant or shy. Her instincts tell her to nip at him, taste him with her tongue, find a spot and suck until it turns red and leaves a mark. She supposes that's plain enough evidence. She's decided.

She lifts her head from the curve of his throat, bringing a hand to slide behind his neck, into his hair, and hold him so she can meet his eyes. So he can see she means what she's going to say.

"I'm ready."

The mark she leaves on him turns him hot, hotter than before, and he whines softly. And then she goes and says that. His eyes turn wide, but he's hard and panting, and he wants this more than anything.

He practically leaps on her, commandeering her mouth and kissing her hard, pushing for entrance with his tongue. He backs her up, heading for the bed, and pushes up the skirt-ish part of her tunic, trying to get his hands to some skin.

It's a fantastic moment. Almost perfect in it's way. They're both clean, there's fresh linens waiting for them. There's no crisis, no one is hurt, or had a brush with death. It's just them. And they want this, and it couldn't be more right.

There's plenty of skin to find. She's not wearing anything under her tunic, as he well knows. Syeira wants to feel him too, her hands busy tugging open the buttons on his shirt roughly. Some buttons might be sacrificed for the greater good of getting the shirt off him.

He has a quick, silent funeral for his shirt in his head.

Anddddd we're back to making out. He seems to be losing this battle of whose shirt should be off first, so he abandons her tunic to help her push off his shirt. He's bare underneath. But then he wants her tunic off, and he tugs it over her head, her red hair falling to her shoulders and her bare torso revealed to him. "God, you're beautiful," he sighs before he takes her in his arms and kisses her.

She can fix the shirt later.

He pulls the tunic off over her head, and she has to lift her arms and let it happen, so she's completely naked in a small handful of seconds. The blush that starts gets interrupted when he pulls her close and kisses her again. She doesn't have time to get bashful.

Her breasts press against his chest, and it causes her to gasp against his mouth. This is a first. He's touched her before but only over her shift. This is skin on skin and it's a shock. She almost takes a step back, to think, to process, but the bed is there, and instead she has to sit, a little inelegantly.

She sits and he slips off his sweats and underwear in one fell swoop, to make them even. Now they're both exposed. He's hard and flushed, a little bashful but still very into this.

But he's worrying. He sits beside her brings her face to his, kisses her lips in a peck before nipping at her bottom lip. "Are you okay? Is this... okay?"

She knew he would end up undressed. It's only logical, but it happens so quickly and right in front of her face. It's not possible for her flushed color to get any deeper, so he can see that when she blushes, it creeps down along her breasts, when it can't just get more intense in color. Arthur shirtless was thrilling, attractive. Arthur naked shorts out her brain for a second or two.

His kiss, with that little nip makes her blink. "I- yes. This is fine. I'm fine. Hoooh wow." Her eyes keep darting back and forth between his face and that part of him that she'd never seen before. He's her first fully naked man.

His lips twitch, trying not to twitch into a smile. He takes her face in his hands, kissing her lips softly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to overwhelm you."

He can probably feel her pulse racing, her heart is hammering hard in her chest. She kisses him back, but it doesn't much soothe her down. Sweet kisses are nice, but he is still naked beside her. Naked and clearly aroused. She understands it all academically, there was plenty of basic anatomy books growing up, but drawings are different than sitting beside the man you intend to give your maiden head to, while he's naked and hard, and all because of you.

"No. No I'm okay." She's a nervous wreck. She's trying, bless her, she is. But still she's nervous. "Just uh...Just guide me through it. Whatever's supposed to come next."

"I didn't know what to do either, really, when I saw a woman naked, when she was about to take my virginity."

He licks his lips nervously, kissing the corner of her mouth.

"But it's more about... having fun and being there with someone than... doing things right."

Or at least, that was an important thing for him to learn, being a perfectionist.

"But I'm with you. I'm here," he says, his eyes intense. "I want to... pleasure you down there with my mouth," he says, his voice low and husky as he moves closer. "Is that okay?"

Heat rolls through her at his suggestion. It's sharp and steering enough to freeze her for a moment. She breathes and let's out a shaky laugh next to his cheek. She leans close, for security and reassurance.

"I know it seems... incongruous, but I know the word for that. You can say them. I've had...colorful traveling companions that spoke very freely." And she's spoken to many many prostitutes in her time. In her brief, short time.

"You can say the words. I'll know what they mean. And... I said before... anything you want. I meant it. I still do."

He just breathes against her cheek, raising his brows at her explanation. Huh. Okay, he can do that. He kisses at her cheek, leans in near her ear.

"I want to eat you out."

His voice is low, almost a growl. He leans back and draws up her legs onto the bed. She'll have to scoot back for him to get between them, but first he bites at the side of her calf, then leaves a soothing kiss over the bite.

Oh. No she was wrong. She's never heard it called that. Other things, but that's new. And the rather wicked nature of the phrase, or maybe just the way it sounds when Arthur says it, makes her go hot low in her belly.

And that growl. She practically melts, and very willingly complies with his moving her around as he wants. The bite illicits as little wimper from her, but not in protest. She enjoys it, as much as she'd enjoyed putting her teeth into him before. And her skin is smooth. Not the smooth of the freshly shaven, but the kind that says hair never grew there, or any place on her, save for her brows and the mane of blood red curls.

She anticipates his need for more space, moving back onto the bed some. She's not sure exactly where he wants her, but expects he'll let her know. She's handed herself over to him, to his guidance and their mutual wants. It's frightening and liberating, all at once.

He enjoys the smoothness of her skin, how soft it is. He moves her around easily, settling between her legs and kissing at her belly, moving his lips down. He won't tease her too hard this time. They're probably a little too desperate for that. So he dives in, running his tongue along the outside of her vaginal lip. His fingers pet across her lips before dipping in and parting them, making way for his mouth. He moves forward and dips his tongue inside of her, licking at that wet heat. He's lying flat on the bed, one arm resting on her leg as he licks into her.

The first brush of his tongue makes her gasp, covering her mouth with one hand, from the surprise of sensation. It's something she could never have imagined. The image of him nuzzling between her legs only adds to it.

She doesn't know what to do. She can't keep still, though it occurs that it might be easier for him if she didn't move. But she can't help it. Little jolts of pleasure roll through her, making her writhe under him, her hips shifting, searching for either escape or to increase the intensity. Her free hand grabs the bedding, twisting it in a fist, releasing then doing it again.

"Arthur!" His name is a desperate rasp, a plea for something, she doesn't really know what. Guidance, help, more, something.

He pulls back, licking her taste off his lips. His eyes are dark, and his voice is pitched lower when he speaks.

"It's okay. Just try to breathe," he tells her, smoothing a hand over her thigh. He's panting, and he's trying to decide if it's too early to want to be inside her. He rests his head on her thigh and tries to breathe before looking up at her.

"Do you want me to keep going?" He kisses her thigh. "Or something else?"

"I don't know. I-" Keep breathing, that's what he said. She takes a few, panting breaths that don't really seem useful, except maybe if she were trying to show off his her breasts rise and fall. But she's hardly experienced enough to be doing that on purpose yet.

She's just confused and not sure what to do about it. He'd told her before to try touching herself, but it hadn't been like this. This was far more intense, mind blowing. Good yes. She's not wanting to stop, but she has no idea where they should go from here.

"I just..." She reaches out, runs her fingers through his hair. It's tousled, unstyled. She loves it this way. "I just want you. Teach me how. Please."

He smiles, crawling up her body to kiss her lips. "Okay. Just follow your instincts. If you want to move your hips, then move them. If you think it would be hot to touch, then touch."

He kisses her again, lingering there. "Here, we can touch each other. We haven't really explored each other's bodies."

Letting his hands roam, he kisses at her neck, touching her stomach, lingering over her arms, cupping a breast. "You can touch me however you want," he says, his voice breathy and low.

That first kiss is different. She can taste herself on his lips. It's startling, but not repelling.

"Hot?" She says it testingly, the temperature colloquialism unfamiliar to her. But she thinks she understands what he means.

She brings her hands up, laying them first on his shoulders. Her touch is light, sliding down his back on one side, along his arm on the other. She ends up with one hand over his as he cups her breast. Her other trails down his spine, all the way until it begins to turn into the curve of his backside. Her fingertips hesitate, possibly ticking unintentionally.

"Mhmm," he hums against her lips, "Sexy."

He inhales as her hand travels down his spine, and his body twitches as she hesitates, her fingers tickling. He laughs against her cheek. He's terribly ticklish.

"You're tickling me," he tells her, kissing her again. "You can touch me wherever you want, too."

That laugh eases something in her, some tension that was holding her back. It makes her smile, moving her head so she could see his eyes.

"You're ticklish?"

His lips twitch into a smile. "No," he lies badly. Oh God, she's going to exploit this weakness, isn't she?

You betcha.

"No?" The smile on her face is pure wickedness. "Not even...here?" She runs her fingers around to his front, tickling at his abs.

There's not even an attempt at keeping his face straight, he just immediately folds in half and bursts into hysterical laughter. "Ah... you're terrible!" he gasps past his laughter.

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