FADE RIFT [INBOX]

[shri]

ＬＡＤＹ ＬＡＫＳＨＭＩ
( Lady Lakshmi, Bai Saheba, Rani Lakshmibai )

ＶＯＩＣＥ | ＡＣＴＩＯＮ | ＮＯＴＥＳ

Unavaliable To All:

• 30mins around dawn
  
  Only to Voice:
  
• Hour training morning and evening
  
• Any time she's gone riding.
  
• When she's in the field.
  
  Only to Book:
  
• When she's otherwise in a meeting, leave a message.
  
• Very late at night or early in the morning.
  
  Other:
  
• She usually takes her morning meals in the mess hall with everyone else.
  
• Her days are usually spent in Kirkwall seeing to either her personal business or Inquisition tasks.
  
• She has a bath twice a day, every day.
  

Comments

[shri]

[ Her eyes open - and she looks up at her in a haze, her gaze dazed almost. But it's a flicker, her eyes heavy-lidded, straining below her. Gripping her with both hands, feeling no more than this, no less than this. How steady a weight Magni is, hard and between her legs, reassuringly firm.

Because she has not the words to tell her that she will turn up in smoke under Magni's hands if not for how they held. A border she makes of herself between them. A tenous pull that when Magni and her fingers are deep into her she grips with both hands, her leg squeezing tightly. ]

[villieldr]

( Another slow roll, as her fingertips trace over those taunting hips. )

Keep holding, Manu.

( Softly, as she dips her head, kissing throat, neck, collarbone and dipping her head lower and catch Rani's nipple - the barest brush of her lower lip, a graze of teeth, before she takes it wholly into her mouth. )

[shri]

[ A mimicry of an order once given before and easier to do now - because at least she is holding to Magni instead of gripping far above and away. Fingers sunk into her like anchor holds, that without thought or want - her spine arching up - she reacts.

It's breathlessly sharp, holding fast, and her nails dig and dig and dig, like they might cut if she presses too hard. But was that not why it had been Magni and no one else? The surety that had been merely a peripheral selection of the tallest person in the room but now was a great deal more - of what Magni could take. That she could sink herself deep against her, into her, and get as good as she gave. ]

[villieldr]

( The dig of nails makes her exhale - though she does it slowly, deliberately, so it's a cold exhale of air over sensitive skin, and she leans up to steal another kiss, sucking Manu's lip. The kiss is slow, deliberate, and in contrast to those nails on her skin. Although—

Sharpness, the focus of it, might be what Manu wants. Was it the best thing to give her? Maybe— she's not quite sure.

Her hand trails up the inside of Manu's thigh, slow and deliberate, fingertips pressing hard into the delicate skin, and then stops deliberately short. Waiting, allowing the tension to draw tight, before she pushes two fingers inside Manu, slow and heavy. The slightest drag out, and pressing back in, beginning a slow, slow rhythm.

Forgetting could be drawn out and enjoyed. )

[shri]

[ She tenses, waiting, waiting, waiting, the heat dropped low and ready. More than ready, pressed up, an arrow waiting to loose. That feeling when squaring up across a field, of something wistfully singleminded, and for all her frustrations, all her bound up needs so tightly into herself. Pinched in her shoulders, driving them back into the bed as she twitches into the cold air. It finally, all snaps, set like a volley. Her legs sliding apart further, giving her space to move.

This won't be fast, but it will surely be maddening. That Magni was such a careful, quiet thing. All watchful. Rough, crooked fingers that pull out the sounds from her, half-held pride that dies a quick death against such a steady onslaught. Each one peaks that little bit louder, each time her fingers slide deep, broad, into her. Lets her fingers return the response, as she scrapes into her back.

And she gets what she wants, boxed in, careful, locked away from everything else. There is something that is as satisfying to pulling out the arrow, even when it washes with blood, she does not have to be, here, anything else but this. ]

Saawariya.

[villieldr]

( A quiet hiss as the nails carve their path, one of her forearms braced against the bed to hold her up just enough to spare Manu her full weight. And there is a faint smile as that word, that word that she does not know and does not understand but can feel is echoed back to her, and she catches her Manu with a kiss.

Mine, the kiss says, with it's confidence. Mine, with the quiet possessiveness, the steadiness, the calm certainty. Saawariya.

Gradually, the pace escalates, the pressure of her thumb rests against Manu's clit, and she very lightly begins to tease at it, waiting for some demand to come to indulge further. )

[shri]

[ Yours, and she has no right to want to be that. To indulge it even for a moment. Kisses her back, even when it could hardly be called so. Panting softly against her lips, letting her arm move to curl around her neck so she might kiss her again. To never part from it. As close as they could be, as mortal bones would let mortal flesh.

Because there's a secret sort of knowledge: to knowing that the back of Magni's neck was so soft. How she could leave half mad dents in the shape of her nails in her skin like fine clay. That was - and she bites, full into her bottom lip, sucking on it - hers. That it was not enough. She strains up, fluttering against that tease, ] Magni. [ That is much less soft, far more telling. She's so close. Just needs, into some damning, consuming way. ]

[villieldr]

( A quiet hiss as the bite becomes a pleased hum at the sound of her name, and that fleeting touch becomes a slow, steady roll of pressure. She can feel Manu straining beneath her. Smaller, the way that most people are slighter than her, but neither weak nor fragile. There is strength woven through each part of her, and then a filigree of tenderness. She is soft only when others cannot see it, it seems. She suspects that she might be tender in shows of protectiveness, as some wild mother might be.

Her hand quickens. )

Come. ( Soft - not quite a command, not so presumptuous, but certainly encouragement. )

[shri]

[ How easy that is - and that is all it needs to be. Her head rolling back, her hips twitching half maddeningly like a puppet to strings. The dancing of shadow shapes like a Kathputli doll. Her mouth falling open until it is barely even a word, or a sense of itself. She scratches her, deep, down her arms, clawing in some maddened grip that is lacking any sense of decency, and oh, if that were not the glorious point.

That when she comes, she does it without a reservation, because she has been asked, and there is no space but to do otherwise, and she gives and gives and gives. Her hair tangled up on the pillow, black and inky, her back twisting sharpy up to press them together and finally, finally, everything else in her mind: forgotten. Just that she is fire, burning from the inside out, that she has only this tinder in front of her to latch onto by both hands. Covering and curling about like flames did. ]

[villieldr]

( As Manu reaches the crest of it, Magni's hand begins to slow. She doesn't stop completely until she has ridden out the crashes of sensation, until the fresh stings being drawn up on her skin are stilled. The sting remains, but no new ones are summoned, and that will do.

There is no silence. Breath comes roughly, sheets rasp under the shift of limbs, and Magni drops her head to rest against the line where neck and shoulder meet, tilting her head to press a kiss to Manu's throat. Quiet, but not silent, as she enjoys the comparative stillness. Perhaps it could be peaceful; perhaps she can at least pretend it is, as she slowly draws her hand away. )