[ It's too early, maybe, if she was the kind of woman to consider that, but early so far as she hadn't - completely - planned this. Oh, come here with an idea, certainly. The way she went into a building with an idea of burning it down, the way she flicked her blades in her hand with the purpose of killing a monster twice her size. An idea of comfort, of giving him something to hold onto where she knows how hard that can be. Of reminding him that it's - not all loneliness. If she can give him anything to see him through the weight of his life, please, let him remember it's not all loneliness.
The rest of her can - wait, she isn't here for her. She's here for him, where he's injured - not just physically though she's keenly aware of that. Where she's, oh, sweat and dirt stained after her dragging through the districts dust and hauling weaponry, the way she's always just that little blood stained. Nothing glamorous or particularly seductive. No, there isn't the time or means for it to be like it should, as long and drawn out and how much she wants to pour over him. See how far she can push him, how much he will push back and they can just enjoy it nothing else. She'll make a proper plan for that later.
But there is space enough for what she's here to do. Giving him something else, for a little while. Trails her lips back up his neck, his jaw, brushing against his ear. Her hands moving and sweep over him like - he was as she called him. Her shamsher. Beckoning him up in a trace of his spine so she can kiss him once and firm to the pulse of his throat, the solid beat of him, feeling it fluttered against the tip of her tongue.
( there are her own broken truths, she can't make love to anything less than weapons, anymore ) She mouths the words into his skin in commands to be felt rather than heard. Absolute in that she knows he will follow because she has every intention of stripping his control from him. ] Hush, now.
[ Her hands shift off of him, undoing the brace off her dominate hand. Economical practised movements to work at belt clasps one handed. They're in private, but there's no privacy in a war camp that isn't undone quickly, even when you've found a quiet corner to drink misery away. Gets the one at her wrist undone, and the rest is yanked down. Exposes just why she wears them from the bite mark in V-line of tooth marks on the back and inner of her wrist as it comes free. So that she can touch him properly, her now bare hand slipping to his hip. A solid, indicative press of where her mind is.
It's not to invite him to return the favour when she pulls back to settle flat below him, her knees shift light so she didn't hit bruised ribs beside him, feet flat to the ground. Her gaze warm as it flickers between his eyes, lighter brown in the firelight. Rather as she squeezes at his hip, it's warning for him to brace himself how he needs to keep quiet when her hands slips lower under the line of his waistband. The other still gloved hand shifting to brace against his chest to keep him just there over her. ]
[ After so long with nothing - so long with only longing to keep him company, and not even his own attentions given the lack of privacy in their tent - anything at all is enough to burn him. All of this at once is almost painfully scorching. He shifts and leans into each touch, biting his lip to keep the moans from escaping him. All while her lips seem to find the most sensitive parts of him, while her hands guide him into just the right position to receive more...
It doesn't quite feel right. He should be he one going down on his knees before her, to provide supplication in the correct direction. Not this adoration of his own tiny, twisted body. He wants so badly to return the favor, to do something that she will enjoy too. It doesn't cross his mind that this might very well be exactly what she wants to enjoy right now. He sucks in a breath as her hand dips below his waistband. It's not that he doesn't want this - oh god does he want this. His want is exceedingly obvious at the moment. But he gasps for air mentally and physically, reaching down to lay his hand over her wrist. ]
Are - are you sure? [ The words come out breathy, hushed. He leans against her hand just a bit more. ] I've barely - barely touched you.
[ He should return the favor. He should provide her with all she wants in turn, as she is doing for him. ]
[ Her smile is sincerely warm, for that. Only makes her sure of the motion as exactly sure as it tumbles out of him. What a good man - better than this planet deserves for how they treat him.
The hand on his chest shifts up to his mouth. Catches her thumb against his bottom lip, pressing in on the curve of it. Eyes lowered and following the motions of it as she wets her own in a prickling feeling of heat move through her. The knot of wanting that bundle up tightly. It was tempting, to let him just undo her, let him touch as much as he wanted of her, it's flushed up bare in her gaze that she follows through on the motion to kiss him. The press of her tongue on his lip, murmuring into his mouth, again. ]
Hush.
[ Her fingers are determined, after that, doesn't give him time to answer as her hand drops lower, reaches to find where he's hard and there isn't much space, doesn't want to make it too obvious if they have to leap up about what they were doing - but even so. Her hands are sure, smooth rather than soft, her grip not delicate, but deliberate as she begins to move over him. Tightening around the tip of him then smoothing down, the brush of her thumb a little more teasing where she draws it along the underside of him. Not many lovers, no, but a happily married woman for years that takes a certain care to pleasing. Measured movements as she watches him that same openly wanting way, for each and every little reaction he has and adjusts to drawing it up out of him over again. ]
[ He gamely tries to do just that. Clamps his mouth shut, leans forward to try and keep all sound from escaping him. There will surely be trouble if they're found, and he just doesn't want to deal with it right now. He only wants her, his queen, beautiful and warm and already pushing him past any hope of staying calm and unentangled.
A soft groan escapes him despite his closed lips as she strokes along his length. Shuddering as she finds a good rhythm, jolting a bit when she startles him. Not a bad thing, no, but if she were to adjust her hand just slightly. Somehow he manages to fist a hand in the front of her shirt to brace himself. His world is nothing but her hand and his sensations, partitioned off by her body shielding them from view. It doesn't take long for him to rock into her hand in response to her touch. Please, please, a little more. ]
[ She isn't playing a long game. Not the time or place as she works her hand over him, building on every little sound. Measuring against each reaction how hard he grips at her. A half reaction of her own that can't be helped when her spine arches a little as he holds her, just to feel that tug at herself. There's something equal parts ground and freeing to it all. That lets one things feed into another.
Her head turns as he leans in, her free hand slipping up under the edge of his shirt, pushing it out of the way to run her fingers against his back. Turns so she can kiss at his neck, the press of teeth where she's careful not to leave not to leave too obvious of a mark. Well, if only a little, noses down his neck to his collar again, to where she knew it would be hidden behind his shirt. There, as she bites something him to feel of her later, her fingers curl that little firmer, move quicker and doesn't stop at that pace nor give him a way back from it. Using the hand at his back to encourage him to it. Drinking up each little noise and jolt into herself in a pleased hum of response. Effects her in some unnamable way, that pooled low heat of watching him come undone. Because she's watching him still, hasn't taken her gaze off him even once. Him and nothing else that takes up her mind at that moment. ]
[ How is he supposed to hold up against that? He really, truly can't. Really doesn't want to either. Even his joy at her leaving marks on him is eclipsed by the narrowing of his attention. Her hand against him, drawing him out, until he's just a little too far over the edge.
He comes with a soft groan, his whole body shuddering. (When's the last time he had any sexual contact? Clearly too long ago, given how little it took from Lakshmi just now.) His face is completely flushed. Red around his neck, his cheeks, the tips of his ears. Fading slowly as his own pleasure does.
[ She lightens her touch but doesn't stop, as she coaxes the last from him. Nothing but a slick easy motion where there's a mess on her fingers. Leaning up to kiss him slow, her fingers drawing lazy circles on his back, easy shifting movement to calm him now. Looking over him in little nuzzling kisses to his cheek and jaw and neck. A warm breathless bubble of laughter.
Likes that flush on his skin, suits him she thinks or maybe that's just the satisfaction in causing it. Moving her hand against to brush his hair back from his face. ]
[ He can't help but lean against her after, soothed by those small motions. Very pleased, oh yes. His hair has grown out a bit from the near-military crop he'd had when he'd first gotten here. Now there's just enough for her to thread her fingers through. ]
[ She untangles eventually, her fingers moving back up his hip, spreading wide on his hip. Sticky mess on them that she ignores briefly as drops her hands away to the ground so she can prop herself up on her elbows. Smiling at him softly, turning her face into to nose against his neck, little not there kisses and warmly breathes. She's a little askew, if just barely. Pulling herself back in. ]
As soon as we find somewhere - private, I think.
[ There was her only hesitation, she didn't have much of a want of being caught or being interrupted, she didn't think she could be held responsible for what she did. ]
[ He tilts his head to allow her better access to his neck. He can't kiss her back at this angle, but he can rest a hand on her cheek. His fingers are soft, warm. Only just now beginning to callus. ]
There are places up in the mountains, if you don't mind the echo. [ A beat. And a bit of a teasing tone. ] And Barrayaran-style skirts are good for one thing ...
[ The impotent little - she nips at him playfully, laughing into him, muffled to softness. ]
The things the countess wears? They are so utterly restricting I would go mad. Give me my own formal garments over that any day.
[ her nose wrinkles, well, at least it isn't as bad as the English. She could give them that. She had watched the brothel girls dress of church one day. Insisting on their best. Underskirts and corsets and then over jackets.
Groans a little, remembering the party with the Cetagandans - ] - if I even remembered how to.
[ She tries so hard not to, to be serious and dry, to not let herself see beyond whatever is happening now. Tries now to keep her face stern up until he suggests a cave, then her head falls back laughing, shoving at him lightly. ]
No - no, I want a bed. Sheets. Where we won't be suddenly sharing with a soldier whose wondered in.
[ He hushes her with that, her hands settling on his shoulders, shifting that little to adjust underneath him. Didn't want to draw him into anything morose, not right now. ]
[ There's a light squeeze of her fingers into his shoulder. ]
I told you when we met, do you recall? I told you I worked out of a brothel. It was where my ah, rebellion, was based. The girls would call me their madam.
Well, I did toss the old one out for mistreating them. [ Not like she can ever help herself, apparently. ] And if patrons got too unruly I was usually the one to remove them... or Devi.
[ She pauses - opening her mouth and surely she has mentioned her? But no, she hasn't, has she? She never mentions anything if she can help it. Nothing important anyway, nothing so personal as what constitutes her family.
Good Lord, how does he put up with her, sometimes? But she supposed he had less of a time prying it from her than most. He made it shockingly easy to simply talk. ]
She is... a daughter of sorts. What remains of my - durgavasi - my guardswomen, that rode with me most of my life. The heir now, to my fight. When it's a little too... public for myself given the... laws, she is the one that stands in my place. [ And like any mother, she clucks, her fingers threading her fingers through his hair in the same idle way. ] Stubborn, far too inclined to throw herself in the way of danger. She rips my heart from my chest almost daily. I swear she punishes me that way for daring to worry.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cw: nsfw
[ It's too early, maybe, if she was the kind of woman to consider that, but early so far as she hadn't - completely - planned this. Oh, come here with an idea, certainly. The way she went into a building with an idea of burning it down, the way she flicked her blades in her hand with the purpose of killing a monster twice her size. An idea of comfort, of giving him something to hold onto where she knows how hard that can be. Of reminding him that it's - not all loneliness. If she can give him anything to see him through the weight of his life, please, let him remember it's not all loneliness.
The rest of her can - wait, she isn't here for her. She's here for him, where he's injured - not just physically though she's keenly aware of that. Where she's, oh, sweat and dirt stained after her dragging through the districts dust and hauling weaponry, the way she's always just that little blood stained. Nothing glamorous or particularly seductive. No, there isn't the time or means for it to be like it should, as long and drawn out and how much she wants to pour over him. See how far she can push him, how much he will push back and they can just enjoy it nothing else. She'll make a proper plan for that later.
But there is space enough for what she's here to do. Giving him something else, for a little while. Trails her lips back up his neck, his jaw, brushing against his ear. Her hands moving and sweep over him like - he was as she called him. Her shamsher. Beckoning him up in a trace of his spine so she can kiss him once and firm to the pulse of his throat, the solid beat of him, feeling it fluttered against the tip of her tongue.
( there are her own broken truths, she can't make love to anything less than weapons, anymore ) She mouths the words into his skin in commands to be felt rather than heard. Absolute in that she knows he will follow because she has every intention of stripping his control from him. ] Hush, now.
[ Her hands shift off of him, undoing the brace off her dominate hand. Economical practised movements to work at belt clasps one handed. They're in private, but there's no privacy in a war camp that isn't undone quickly, even when you've found a quiet corner to drink misery away. Gets the one at her wrist undone, and the rest is yanked down. Exposes just why she wears them from the bite mark in V-line of tooth marks on the back and inner of her wrist as it comes free. So that she can touch him properly, her now bare hand slipping to his hip. A solid, indicative press of where her mind is.
It's not to invite him to return the favour when she pulls back to settle flat below him, her knees shift light so she didn't hit bruised ribs beside him, feet flat to the ground. Her gaze warm as it flickers between his eyes, lighter brown in the firelight. Rather as she squeezes at his hip, it's warning for him to brace himself how he needs to keep quiet when her hands slips lower under the line of his waistband. The other still gloved hand shifting to brace against his chest to keep him just there over her. ]
no subject
It doesn't quite feel right. He should be he one going down on his knees before her, to provide supplication in the correct direction. Not this adoration of his own tiny, twisted body. He wants so badly to return the favor, to do something that she will enjoy too. It doesn't cross his mind that this might very well be exactly what she wants to enjoy right now. He sucks in a breath as her hand dips below his waistband. It's not that he doesn't want this - oh god does he want this. His want is exceedingly obvious at the moment. But he gasps for air mentally and physically, reaching down to lay his hand over her wrist. ]
Are - are you sure? [ The words come out breathy, hushed. He leans against her hand just a bit more. ] I've barely - barely touched you.
[ He should return the favor. He should provide her with all she wants in turn, as she is doing for him. ]
no subject
The hand on his chest shifts up to his mouth. Catches her thumb against his bottom lip, pressing in on the curve of it. Eyes lowered and following the motions of it as she wets her own in a prickling feeling of heat move through her. The knot of wanting that bundle up tightly. It was tempting, to let him just undo her, let him touch as much as he wanted of her, it's flushed up bare in her gaze that she follows through on the motion to kiss him. The press of her tongue on his lip, murmuring into his mouth, again. ]
Hush.
[ Her fingers are determined, after that, doesn't give him time to answer as her hand drops lower, reaches to find where he's hard and there isn't much space, doesn't want to make it too obvious if they have to leap up about what they were doing - but even so. Her hands are sure, smooth rather than soft, her grip not delicate, but deliberate as she begins to move over him. Tightening around the tip of him then smoothing down, the brush of her thumb a little more teasing where she draws it along the underside of him. Not many lovers, no, but a happily married woman for years that takes a certain care to pleasing. Measured movements as she watches him that same openly wanting way, for each and every little reaction he has and adjusts to drawing it up out of him over again. ]
no subject
A soft groan escapes him despite his closed lips as she strokes along his length. Shuddering as she finds a good rhythm, jolting a bit when she startles him. Not a bad thing, no, but if she were to adjust her hand just slightly. Somehow he manages to fist a hand in the front of her shirt to brace himself. His world is nothing but her hand and his sensations, partitioned off by her body shielding them from view. It doesn't take long for him to rock into her hand in response to her touch. Please, please, a little more. ]
no subject
Her head turns as he leans in, her free hand slipping up under the edge of his shirt, pushing it out of the way to run her fingers against his back. Turns so she can kiss at his neck, the press of teeth where she's careful not to leave not to leave too obvious of a mark. Well, if only a little, noses down his neck to his collar again, to where she knew it would be hidden behind his shirt. There, as she bites something him to feel of her later, her fingers curl that little firmer, move quicker and doesn't stop at that pace nor give him a way back from it. Using the hand at his back to encourage him to it. Drinking up each little noise and jolt into herself in a pleased hum of response. Effects her in some unnamable way, that pooled low heat of watching him come undone. Because she's watching him still, hasn't taken her gaze off him even once. Him and nothing else that takes up her mind at that moment. ]
no subject
He comes with a soft groan, his whole body shuddering. (When's the last time he had any sexual contact? Clearly too long ago, given how little it took from Lakshmi just now.) His face is completely flushed. Red around his neck, his cheeks, the tips of his ears. Fading slowly as his own pleasure does.
It takes him a moment to find words again. ]
Ah, Lakshmi ...
no subject
Likes that flush on his skin, suits him she thinks or maybe that's just the satisfaction in causing it. Moving her hand against to brush his hair back from his face. ]
Good?
no subject
Very good. I just - want to return the favor.
[ He murmurs the words warmly. ]
no subject
As soon as we find somewhere - private, I think.
[ There was her only hesitation, she didn't have much of a want of being caught or being interrupted, she didn't think she could be held responsible for what she did. ]
no subject
There are places up in the mountains, if you don't mind the echo. [ A beat. And a bit of a teasing tone. ] And Barrayaran-style skirts are good for one thing ...
no subject
The things the countess wears? They are so utterly restricting I would go mad. Give me my own formal garments over that any day.
[ her nose wrinkles, well, at least it isn't as bad as the English. She could give them that. She had watched the brothel girls dress of church one day. Insisting on their best. Underskirts and corsets and then over jackets.
Groans a little, remembering the party with the Cetagandans - ] - if I even remembered how to.
no subject
Ah, well. The cave it is, then.
no subject
No - no, I want a bed. Sheets. Where we won't be suddenly sharing with a soldier whose wondered in.
no subject
no subject
We could give up utterly and find a brothel. They hardly ever care when there's coin for the expense. Then we could give up on any sort of reputation.
no subject
Let's leave that as a last resort, perhaps.
no subject
What's this, a Lord that isn't comfortable in a brothel?
no subject
[ The reasons for which are entirely too complicated to tease away, but he can start with the simplest one. ]
I'd always felt - like I'd be imposing, for starters.
no subject
Well, now you have a brothel madam to yourself.
no subject
That I don't quite believe.
no subject
I told you when we met, do you recall? I told you I worked out of a brothel. It was where my ah, rebellion, was based. The girls would call me their madam.
no subject
I'd say that makes you a rebel leader more than a madam.
no subject
Well, I did toss the old one out for mistreating them. [ Not like she can ever help herself, apparently. ] And if patrons got too unruly I was usually the one to remove them... or Devi.
no subject
Who was Devi?
no subject
Good Lord, how does he put up with her, sometimes? But she supposed he had less of a time prying it from her than most. He made it shockingly easy to simply talk. ]
She is... a daughter of sorts. What remains of my - durgavasi - my guardswomen, that rode with me most of my life. The heir now, to my fight. When it's a little too... public for myself given the... laws, she is the one that stands in my place. [ And like any mother, she clucks, her fingers threading her fingers through his hair in the same idle way. ] Stubborn, far too inclined to throw herself in the way of danger. She rips my heart from my chest almost daily. I swear she punishes me that way for daring to worry.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)