call me the world's sexiest killing machine; lacey only (M) - Printable Version +- Beqanna (https://beqanna.com/forum) +-- Forum: OOC (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=24) +--- Forum: Archive (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=81) +---- Forum: Lands (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=98) +----- Forum: Tephra (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=85) +------ Forum: Ischia (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=87) +------ Thread: call me the world's sexiest killing machine; lacey only (M) (/showthread.php?tid=13564) |
call me the world's sexiest killing machine; lacey only (M) - Kerberos - 02-23-2017 Fucking Ty. Has some shit to figure out, does he? Well that’s fine. I do too. You know, I was perfectly okay before he actually fucking looked at me, with those goddamn eyes, in his stupid gorgeous face. Not to mention his stupid sexy as hell carved up body and his obnoxiously brilliant brain and his just annoyingly perfect Ty-ness. Whatever. I knew my role, and it was to perplex and annoy the shit out of him with my not even a little bit subtle passes. Well, and to hit on his ridiculous number of dads and drive the whole family crazy, just a bit. Rile them up, get their blood up, get my heart racing at the vague death threats in their eyes. It was a whole thing, okay? Then that bastard actually looked at me. Which I suppose was my own damn fault. I had a stroke of just absolute brilliance appealing to that insatiably curious mind of his, seducing him with talk of experiments and hypotheses, proposing we run a few tests. Never actually expected it to work. Never actually expected him to let me in. I didn’t have a damn chance after that. That asshole went and made me want to be...more. Dammit. Better. Maybe fix some shit I’d left broken. So when he walked away with no strings attached, to go figure out his own shit, well. I decided maybe it’d be at least not the absolute worst idea ever to do a little of the same. Starting with Lacey. I’ve learned a hell of a lot since I left her in a heap on the ground. I mean, I made her body sing, but I didn’t just toe the line between pleasure and agony. I fucking stomped all over it. I like to think I have a little more finesse now. So really, the only logical thing to do is to go find her and fix what I broke, right? Right. Well pretty Lacey did happen to mention she was from that rando island off to the northeast, didn’t she. So what the hell, I walk across the ocean waves, circling around back because it’s more fun to use the backdoor sometimes. Shakes things up, keeps people on their toes. And wouldn’t you know, I catch a familiar scent in the air not too terribly long after I arrive. “Lacey, baby,” I croon when I lay eyes on her, slipping through the trees and out of the shadows to let the light catch and gleam off my shiny metal self. “I owe you an apology. I was a little callous last time, and I thought, especially given the season, it might be a good idea to remedy that and tend to your needs this ti--god damn, honey, who fucked up your art?” I step around her, apology forgotten entirely as disgust and horror wash over me. “Berries? Fucking berries, and leaves and flowers and shit? Oh, baby, you’re so much better than that. What kind of fucking tasteless plebeian would--ugh, you deserve the primal, visceral work of fucking art I gave you, not this floofy bullshit. What the fuck? I’m so sorry, Lacey. What a damn shame.” RE: call me the world's sexiest killing machine; lacey only - Wallace - 02-27-2017 Wallace She wandered aimlessly, drifting listlessly through the furthest end of the island. Far, far away from the sandbar where people might travel, and into the quiet of a dense jungle with whispering sea breezes and sleepy little birdsongs. She left behind her Irish guardian, that glint of worry in his eyes haunting her mind as she asked to be alone for a time, leaving the twins in his watchful care. Just for a time. Just until she could be free of this heavy sorrow slowly consuming her, poisoning all the moments with them that should be good and happy. RE: call me the world's sexiest killing machine; lacey only - Kerberos - 02-27-2017 Hadn’t noticed. I snort. She hadn’t fucking noticed. Hours I’d spent perfecting my work, making sure it was just so, making sure it screamed Lacey to the whole world, and she hadn’t noticed somebody going and mucking it up with goddamn berries and flowers and godawful leaves. “Musta done a worse number on you than I realized, if you didn’t even notice somebody’d cocked up your art. Poor Lacey, love, I was so careless, wasn’t I?” I croon, tracing iron fingertips gently along the long-healed lines of her lace. Even the goddamn berries. Mmm, she lifts her chin, that defiant light in her eyes stirring my blood just the way it had last time. God I love that look in her eye. Something about her always seems to get me going, even now. Even after Ty. I sort of assumed I’d never want anyone else touching me after I’d been with him, would never want to taste and tease and coax anyone else’s body into those same delicious heights of ecstasy. And yet. “I think I won’t like your kind of apology.” That soft, breathy challenge has my pupils dilating, the corners of my lips curling slowly into a wicked grin. “Do you now, Lacey, love? Well if you want me to leave…” Those iron fingers trail along her hip, pausing to idly swirl around her hipbone before continuing along her side. “Say the word, baby.” Mmm, tracing up and down the lines of her ribcage bone by bone, taking their sweet, sweet time exploring her - but this time, I won’t hold her here. Not unless she asks me to, anyhow. I step closer, dragging my lips along the line of her shoulder, running the softest part of my nose up the curve of her neck to whisper in her ear, “I’ll leave if you want me to, and you’ll never see me again. Or I could stay, and we’ll see if you’re right about that, see if I can’t prove that apology’s worth accepting.” And while my lips play up here, those fingers trail south, teasing along her belly. “Tell me, pretty Lacey. What do you want?” RE: call me the world's sexiest killing machine; lacey only - Wallace - 02-27-2017 Wallace He crooned, so sweetly, and a shiver zipped down her spine as she held his gaze -so stupid, so bold. His iron touch was so gentle, a tender sweep along the lines he'd traced there. She was bitterly reminded how attractive he was when her response curled those lips. A hidden strike of fear flashed through her, so icy cold, but she didn't shy away from him, didn't try to escape the care he gave her as he toyed at her hip. RE: call me the world's sexiest killing machine; lacey only (rated M, let's be real...) - Kerberos - 02-28-2017 So brave, my sweet Lacey, so bold. Those dark brown eyes of her meet mine, staring into me without flinching even though I can see the nerves skittering through her expression. That’s my girl. And nerves aren’t the only thing I see there. A spark of desire catches deep in her eyes, kindling slowly as those cool iron fingers stroke her skin. And then, with my lips pressed to her skin and iron fingers skirting ever lower along her belly, she draws in this hot, ragged breath and I can almost feel the moan building deep in her chest, fighting to break free. That’s it, baby. God, then that first tentative step, testing her bounds, making sure I’m true to my word. She can go if she likes; I won’t keep her here. But instead. Instead, her eyes catch mine again, and she traces her lips along my jawline, pulling a low, hungry humming sound from deep in my throat. “God, you’re so fucking hot, Lacey. As you wish.” And I shut my damn mouth, just like she said. Why bother with words, when those convenient fingers can do the talking, trailing up her inner thighs, skirting around to toy with the underside of her tail, never quite touching where she’ll want them most, not yet. Not when there are so many other places to touch first, to stoke the fire that’s building in her eyes, in her veins. While iron fingers trace the lace along the curve of her hindquarters, dancing closer and then pulling away again, I caress her neck with the velvet of my nose, breathing in her scent, toying with hair that’s just a little too sleek and smooth and polished for my wild, raw, passionate Lacey. Probably the same fucker that’s responsible for the damn berries, huh, babe? That’s okay. It’s my name you’ll be screaming tonight, not his. I bite down gently on her shoulder, just a quick jolt of pain to fan the flames a little higher, chasing the pain with the heat of my tongue, a drag of my lips against her skin. Mmm, and again, trailing a line of bites and rough kisses until I reach the sensitive spot where shoulder and neck join. No bite there, just a gentle nuzzle as fingers tease closer and dance away again just before touching, trailing down her thighs instead. I said I’d shut the hell up, but I’ve never been good at keeping my mouth shut. My lips make their way up to her ear again, pausing so I can trace the graceful curve with the tip of my tongue while iron fingers flirt and tease and torment. “What next, Lacey? Tell me, baby. I’m yours to command.” RE: call me the world's sexiest killing machine; lacey only (M) - Wallace - 03-02-2017 Wallace He hummed from deep in his throat when she touched him, and it rattled its way through her blood. She felt almost powerful in that response to her, that she could make that sound come from him. And then what he said only made it stronger, stole her breath in surprise, in hope. God, you're so fucking hot, Lacey. Plain, dull Wallace was hot in this moment, to this man. She was wanted. RE: call me the world's sexiest killing machine; lacey only (M) - Kerberos - 03-05-2017 God, that’s a good answer. Show me something new. And I’m happy to oblige, taking the time to thoroughly explore her, touching her not just with cool iron fingers, but adding warm tongues to the mix, letting them lave over the salty sweetness of her skin. I’ve got all the time in the world, and she’s got so very much still to learn. So I teach her. Sorry, that’s as much detail as I’m going into this time around. Like I said, this is for her, and nobody else. And afterward, when she’s utterly exhausted and deliciously sated and we’re both still breathing hard and coming down from the high, I just hold her close, gently stroking her hair, the skin of her neck, the line of her jaw. “God, you’re exquisite, you know that, Lacey?” I murmur, breathing her in. “I could touch you for days and still want more. I’m sorry I fucked things up so bad for you, baby. I didn’t know…” How it can be between two people, what it looks like when touching someone is more than a selfish act or a fucking weapon. How to give a fuck about the other person’s well-being instead of just dragging them into the dark, revelling in the blood, in the glorious melding of pain and pleasure until it’s all that exists in the whole world, if only for a little while. Well. That part can still be damn good too. Fuck, I miss Ty. Sighing, I press my lips to Lacey’s lovely neck. “I didn’t know it could be different. And when I learned...I don’t know, baby, I felt like a real bastard for how I left things with you. For how I treated you. I’m sorry, Lacey. You deserved better. You deserve better. I hope you know that.” RE: call me the world's sexiest killing machine; lacey only (M) - Wallace - 03-12-2017 Wallace She leaned against him, as if he hadn't been the one to ruin everything, to ruin her. Here in this moment, she could pretend things were different. She could pretend she meant something to him. She could pretend when he brushed against her hair, it was out of love. And that when he called her exquisite it was believable, that he meant it, even as it stung her heart, burned her eyes, to know the truth. RE: call me the world's sexiest killing machine; lacey only (M) - Kerberos - 03-24-2017 Oh, but I pissed her off with that last bit. I didn’t mean to, but damn, I love the fire in her eyes when she’s angry, even if it means she’s pulling away and putting distance between us. Mmm, there’s a growl in her voice when she quips back and tries to bone out, and what a sexy little growl too. I couldn’t keep from leering at her if I wanted to, and why the hell would I want that? If I were someone else, I might just let her walk away, call it good and let her go, let her leave with a snarl and an eye roll and a fuck you. Good thing I’m not someone else. She’s making a beeline for the ocean, stalking toward the water like she wants to wash away all the deliciously wicked things we’ve done together, and the devil knows we can’t have that. I watch her go for a few steps, taking the time to admire the swaying of her step, the curve of her hips, and the way the lace I gave her follows every move of her magnificent ass. And then I cut her off, smirking down at her and leaning in to breathe in our mingled scents, the smell of sex and heat and Lacey. “Mmm, I love it when you’re angry. So fucking hot.” Stepping into her, pressing my chest against hers, I trail little bites down her neck, touch my lips to her shoulder. “But I’d sure as hell rather leave you happy and exhausted than pissed at me. Do I need to be a little more thorough, babe? Still got an itch that needs scratching? You know I’m happy to oblige,” I purr, dragging my teeth along her skin and ending with another little nip, a lick, a kiss. “Any time you want. You’re a fire in my blood, Lacey, and I’d burn with you any day.” RE: call me the world's sexiest killing machine; lacey only (M) - Wallace - 04-15-2017 Lacey She just wanted out of here. Sick of apologies, sick of being treated like she's fragile and going to break. It didn't matter if her eyes shined with stupid, naive want for something he'd never give her. That was beside the point. She knew it was hopeless. But whatever. She wasn't going to break and fall apart like she did before. He'd never see her fall apart. That was done, over with. |