[Which winds it down for now, at least until he gets home.
So she hums. Best to leave him with something pleasant to think about for the day. He did work so dreadfully hard after all. ]
As we are then... perhaps I ought to tell you this too. I like to wear one of those little devices sometimes. The ones that vibrate? As I go about my day.
And it has a second controller, one that operates from even a great distance.
[ That's not what she was looking for. Hrm. Time to try again. ]
Whose to say I have not been, all day, with the thought of you? It is a poor approximation of how you make me feel, but I must admit, when I am aching and having to hold my legs together tightly as I sing, people seem to enjoy how earnest my performances are.
[ How painful a few hours could become when waiting for a treasure you long for so very much, savour and yet could not help but to be impatient. Anduin never seemed to tire of her passion for him, at least - and a poet might say that absence made the heart grow fonder. But if she spent too long on flowing words and agonies she might not survive. Instead, she busies herself to make sure that nothing and no one would bother them for at least a few hours. She would toy with making herself beautiful for him before he arrived, but she had learned now, after that night at the fire, it was the simpler things he seemed to like. The linen dress and her hair tumbled free.
It was not like she planned to wear it very long, after all.
Because he does not get more than a minute, when he comes home, that she tumbles into him. Fingers in his hair, arm around his shoulder as she pulls him down into a kiss. Not the polite affection that usually came from morning or evening, no, hot against his lips with every scrape of her own, pulling at his clothes even before the door is shut behind him. Her body pressed tightly into his to find all the ways they fit together so nicely, hip to hip, breath to breath, how soft curves fit against his broad chest.
Fit to consume, and not sated until she has had every little bit. ]
Of course, Gilia was often there to welcome him home, but not often so ardently. He barely has time enough to shed his coat before she's in his arms, drawing him into a kiss--
And so he abandons thought for anything else that might need to be done, in the moment. What else could be so important? Instead he lets a hand fall to her waist, feeling warm skin beneath the nearly-sheer linen, drawing her in tightly before tilting into that kiss. ]
[ Give her a day, that is all she asks, give her this. Tomorrow she will lower her eyes and she will murmur her praise, she will say her prayers and never reach for anything first. But let her have him in these moments where she feels - that she does not have to be demure and kind, she just has to want. To savour how the fabric pulls across her lower back, as he draws her in. His hands are firm with their callouses that echoes in welcome with the soft sound against his mouth where they scratch in a way that is him, just him.
A tripping dance as she begins to hastily pull at buttons, getting them undone enough she can push his collar open and expose the tops of his shoulders, smoothing and touching like a map of all her favourite places. The thump where briefly she lands against a wall, it feels from the solidness at her shoulders. Drawing him over her as she cranes her neck back on her shoulders, stopping to breath because she must, yet how inconsequential it feels to taste the supple pull of his mouth. Ragged rise and fall, her eyes hazy with their warmth. ]
[ Her fingers span the rise and fall of muscle, of scars, of warm skin. His fingers dance across the folds of fabric, drawing them higher on her hips as the weight of their movement together presses her back into the wall. She breathes, bares her throat, and his lips find the thrum of her pulse before nuzzling beneath the curve of her ear.
His blood sings with how much he loves her, how he adores her. Wants her. Always. Thoughts that have to be set away during the long hours of the day when his focus has to remain razor-sharp. How could he dwell on anything else with the thought of her in his arms dancing through his head?. ]
[ She draws him in, fingers knotting in his hair with the sharp gasp when his mouth sets so hotly to her skin. That dig to keep him, always keep him, never let him go. A familiar, desiring madness that his proximity always gave her.
She watches him through lowered lashes, breathing hitching to an uneven beat, yet her heart felt so steady, steady in loving him, that he loved her too. Freer, now, that they had talked.
To give the simple command: ] Take me to bed. I want to devour you.
[ His lips curl upwards as he draws back, humming in soft agreement. ]
As my lady commands.
[ Which is all the warning she has before he lowers his hands, clasps the back of her thighs, and lifts her from the ground. The fabric of that thin dress gets rucked up against her thighs as he pulls her in tight, enough to allow her legs to wrap around him for stability, before he pulls away and hauls them both away towards the bedroom.
Any other night, she'd be laid down gently against the sheets, as he began a slow and reverent worship of her body, laden with soft-spoken adoration.
Tonight? She's all but tossed down amongst the fluff of pillows and blankets, before he dives in after her to hungrily claim her lips once more. ]
[ Tightly they go about him, snuggling pressing against his body as her head falls to make herself busy in the meantime. Fingers in his hair, lips on his jaw in soft gasping bites to his skin. The thrill does not have to be overthought, he is a handsome man, he is powerful king, and he is of even stronger faith, and he could have any he pleased.
But it is her that feels the strength in her palms, at this moment, and it is her he drops into bed. Bouncing briefly with the softness he seemed to like so much, wriggling back into it as she lifts her head up to catch him in that same kiss.
Because it is her he crawls over like he wants to devour. How often that kiss and touch are sweet and she loves them, but this felt different, somehow. Something that was open that she could not quite have managed, before. Her arm wrapping around his shoulder, as she drags him into her, nails that dig half-moons into the back of his neck with the force of the desire. She will not have in halves, not tonight, teeth laying in a stinging bite to his lower lip, tasting, savouring every sound she draws.
It is him she craves. It is him she will never, never have enough of. Her legs snatch him around the waist, drawing his hips down to her in that perfect, wonderous grind where there was so little between them and she is heat against his hardness.
It's intoxicating, rich as mead and strong as whiskey and it gives her the courage, swept up in it. Where she does what he must have done to her a dozen times, yet she never dared do back. Lifting with her hips and chest, glad, so glad, she was not so little a woman - and flips them over. Pushing him down into the blankets, perching on top of him, her hands landing either side of his head with a breathless laugh, perhaps a little incredulous. ]
There's no hiding his surprise as suddenly it's his back to the bed, with Gilia astride and looking so very pleased with herself. Very much a first.
But surprise quickly melts into a mixture of fondness and desire. Light, but he loves her so very terribly. So long now he can't imagine ever having not, and a hand lifts to draw his thumb along the edge of her cheek...and then surging up from the mattress to kiss her once more.
His smile remains, audible even through a stolen murmur against her lips. ]
Hello, Wife. I'm starting to suspect you had a plan all along.
[ Her hips rock in his lap, caught in the kiss that drives her half to madness that wants to throw out all thought and all reason. Never will she want anything half so much as she wants him. ]
An idea. [ She sucks on his lower lip, sinking her teeth in before she pulls back. ] Perhaps a fixation of all the things I want to do to you. [ Another kiss desperately dragged against his mouth. ] So, so many things I imagine...
[ But tonight, tonight she is in charge, not him. That is the first, first of all things, he is going to understand. She allows the kiss to stay, even when she snatches at his wrists this time, and pins him down. Pushing her weight into it to hold him fast. ] Even with my clients, even with the things the city makes me do, it's you I want most, it's always you, I could go mad with longing for you.
[ - And for once, she doesn't feel too afraid to say it, though she does... watch. Just to make sure. Just to see that she is not shocking him terribly. ]
[ Tender words even as she leans forward to pin him, as he allows her to do so, staring up at her with all the awe and love in the world dancing in his eyes. No shock, no second thoughts. ]
Whatever it is you wish, it's yours. I am yours, as I swore I would be.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ An amused huff. ]
I'd like this, for us. If you would as well.
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[Which winds it down for now, at least until he gets home.
So she hums. Best to leave him with something pleasant to think about for the day. He did work so dreadfully hard after all. ]
As we are then... perhaps I ought to tell you this too. I like to wear one of those little devices sometimes. The ones that vibrate? As I go about my day.
And it has a second controller, one that operates from even a great distance.
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Then you will be very pleased this evening. I have been wearing it all day.
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I am sure I have no idea what you mean, my love?
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[ He chuckles softly. ]
But I'm happy to do so, if you wish.
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Whose to say I have not been, all day, with the thought of you? It is a poor approximation of how you make me feel, but I must admit, when I am aching and having to hold my legs together tightly as I sing, people seem to enjoy how earnest my performances are.
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The end of the day rarely comes soon enough.
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I'll be home soon.
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It was not like she planned to wear it very long, after all.
Because he does not get more than a minute, when he comes home, that she tumbles into him. Fingers in his hair, arm around his shoulder as she pulls him down into a kiss. Not the polite affection that usually came from morning or evening, no, hot against his lips with every scrape of her own, pulling at his clothes even before the door is shut behind him. Her body pressed tightly into his to find all the ways they fit together so nicely, hip to hip, breath to breath, how soft curves fit against his broad chest.
Fit to consume, and not sated until she has had every little bit. ]
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Of course, Gilia was often there to welcome him home, but not often so ardently. He barely has time enough to shed his coat before she's in his arms, drawing him into a kiss--
And so he abandons thought for anything else that might need to be done, in the moment. What else could be so important? Instead he lets a hand fall to her waist, feeling warm skin beneath the nearly-sheer linen, drawing her in tightly before tilting into that kiss. ]
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A tripping dance as she begins to hastily pull at buttons, getting them undone enough she can push his collar open and expose the tops of his shoulders, smoothing and touching like a map of all her favourite places. The thump where briefly she lands against a wall, it feels from the solidness at her shoulders. Drawing him over her as she cranes her neck back on her shoulders, stopping to breath because she must, yet how inconsequential it feels to taste the supple pull of his mouth. Ragged rise and fall, her eyes hazy with their warmth. ]
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His blood sings with how much he loves her, how he adores her. Wants her. Always. Thoughts that have to be set away during the long hours of the day when his focus has to remain razor-sharp. How could he dwell on anything else with the thought of her in his arms dancing through his head?. ]
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She watches him through lowered lashes, breathing hitching to an uneven beat, yet her heart felt so steady, steady in loving him, that he loved her too. Freer, now, that they had talked.
To give the simple command: ] Take me to bed. I want to devour you.
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As my lady commands.
[ Which is all the warning she has before he lowers his hands, clasps the back of her thighs, and lifts her from the ground. The fabric of that thin dress gets rucked up against her thighs as he pulls her in tight, enough to allow her legs to wrap around him for stability, before he pulls away and hauls them both away towards the bedroom.
Any other night, she'd be laid down gently against the sheets, as he began a slow and reverent worship of her body, laden with soft-spoken adoration.
Tonight? She's all but tossed down amongst the fluff of pillows and blankets, before he dives in after her to hungrily claim her lips once more. ]
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But it is her that feels the strength in her palms, at this moment, and it is her he drops into bed. Bouncing briefly with the softness he seemed to like so much, wriggling back into it as she lifts her head up to catch him in that same kiss.
Because it is her he crawls over like he wants to devour. How often that kiss and touch are sweet and she loves them, but this felt different, somehow. Something that was open that she could not quite have managed, before. Her arm wrapping around his shoulder, as she drags him into her, nails that dig half-moons into the back of his neck with the force of the desire. She will not have in halves, not tonight, teeth laying in a stinging bite to his lower lip, tasting, savouring every sound she draws.
It is him she craves. It is him she will never, never have enough of. Her legs snatch him around the waist, drawing his hips down to her in that perfect, wonderous grind where there was so little between them and she is heat against his hardness.
It's intoxicating, rich as mead and strong as whiskey and it gives her the courage, swept up in it. Where she does what he must have done to her a dozen times, yet she never dared do back. Lifting with her hips and chest, glad, so glad, she was not so little a woman - and flips them over. Pushing him down into the blankets, perching on top of him, her hands landing either side of his head with a breathless laugh, perhaps a little incredulous. ]
Hello, Husband.
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There's no hiding his surprise as suddenly it's his back to the bed, with Gilia astride and looking so very pleased with herself. Very much a first.
But surprise quickly melts into a mixture of fondness and desire. Light, but he loves her so very terribly. So long now he can't imagine ever having not, and a hand lifts to draw his thumb along the edge of her cheek...and then surging up from the mattress to kiss her once more.
His smile remains, audible even through a stolen murmur against her lips. ]
Hello, Wife. I'm starting to suspect you had a plan all along.
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An idea. [ She sucks on his lower lip, sinking her teeth in before she pulls back. ] Perhaps a fixation of all the things I want to do to you. [ Another kiss desperately dragged against his mouth. ] So, so many things I imagine...
[ But tonight, tonight she is in charge, not him. That is the first, first of all things, he is going to understand. She allows the kiss to stay, even when she snatches at his wrists this time, and pins him down. Pushing her weight into it to hold him fast. ] Even with my clients, even with the things the city makes me do, it's you I want most, it's always you, I could go mad with longing for you.
[ - And for once, she doesn't feel too afraid to say it, though she does... watch. Just to make sure. Just to see that she is not shocking him terribly. ]
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[ Tender words even as she leans forward to pin him, as he allows her to do so, staring up at her with all the awe and love in the world dancing in his eyes. No shock, no second thoughts. ]
Whatever it is you wish, it's yours. I am yours, as I swore I would be.
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