12-07-2017, 09:40 PM
Eione
I can save you, I can take you away from here
She can see the subtle twitch beneath his eye – and she does not need to see into his mind to know that his stomach must be coiled in a knot at the sheer thought that another can see into his every memory; that another can sense every wayward notion, every carefully kept opinion and belief and theory. She can see all of him and more, and he is exposed, vulnerable to her and the realization is a heavy burden to him, just as it weighed heavily upon her, but she cannot keep the smile from touching her pale lips. She does delight in his apprehension, and the wavering of his confidence.
Beneath the charisma and magnetism lay a soul with more to give than it could ever take, and to see him falter before her only brings her closer to him, her mouth hovering over the curve of his jawline where the scent of wisteria and dogwood remain, clutching to the golden overlay of his scales.
”Do not worry, dear Amet,” she muses thoughtfully, her voice little else but a husky murmur across the curve of his neck, where his pounding pulse is sure to be. As fervent and enthusiastic as her own. ”I will not pry to see anything more than what you are willing to share,” and she is gazing up at him again, the scarlet of her irises darkened as the desire to close the distance and to taste the pollen of goldenrod tucked away within the ridge of each scale along the column of his neck is almost too much for her to resist. ”and of what I do see – your secrets are safe with me.”
The smile has returned, and her cheek is turned, though her gaze is still steady on his. The deep amber of each iris is only further temptation. She is left longing to see what he must be thinking, of her boldness if nothing else, but she shies away – if only to fully experience the soft fluttering in her stomach when his gaze roves the feminine plane of her face, seeking the crimson beneath ringlets of black.
His whisper sends a shiver traversing the length of her spine, and a gentle huff of laughter presses past her parted lips, and she contemplates staring up into the darkness of his eyes – but to do so would be to press her lips against his own, despite knowing him – could it be only minutes? It felt like hours, days, an eternity!
”Challenge accepted.”
Casting him a coquettish glance, she withdraws, moving along the length of his lithe body – never touching, gentle puffs of breath caress where she might boldly lay a kiss. Along the slope of his spine, across the curve of his hip, and when she comes around, she does not miss the hitch of his thigh nor the broad line of his shoulder. All the while, the blood is rushing through her veins, leaving her dizzy and wanting for him in a way she could not understand – even with a world of knowledge standing before her, waiting to be discovered. Waiting to be known to her.
”You are remarkable,” she says softly, honestly. ”I don’t want to see what you are thinking. I want you to tell me.”
Beneath the charisma and magnetism lay a soul with more to give than it could ever take, and to see him falter before her only brings her closer to him, her mouth hovering over the curve of his jawline where the scent of wisteria and dogwood remain, clutching to the golden overlay of his scales.
”Do not worry, dear Amet,” she muses thoughtfully, her voice little else but a husky murmur across the curve of his neck, where his pounding pulse is sure to be. As fervent and enthusiastic as her own. ”I will not pry to see anything more than what you are willing to share,” and she is gazing up at him again, the scarlet of her irises darkened as the desire to close the distance and to taste the pollen of goldenrod tucked away within the ridge of each scale along the column of his neck is almost too much for her to resist. ”and of what I do see – your secrets are safe with me.”
The smile has returned, and her cheek is turned, though her gaze is still steady on his. The deep amber of each iris is only further temptation. She is left longing to see what he must be thinking, of her boldness if nothing else, but she shies away – if only to fully experience the soft fluttering in her stomach when his gaze roves the feminine plane of her face, seeking the crimson beneath ringlets of black.
His whisper sends a shiver traversing the length of her spine, and a gentle huff of laughter presses past her parted lips, and she contemplates staring up into the darkness of his eyes – but to do so would be to press her lips against his own, despite knowing him – could it be only minutes? It felt like hours, days, an eternity!
”Challenge accepted.”
Casting him a coquettish glance, she withdraws, moving along the length of his lithe body – never touching, gentle puffs of breath caress where she might boldly lay a kiss. Along the slope of his spine, across the curve of his hip, and when she comes around, she does not miss the hitch of his thigh nor the broad line of his shoulder. All the while, the blood is rushing through her veins, leaving her dizzy and wanting for him in a way she could not understand – even with a world of knowledge standing before her, waiting to be discovered. Waiting to be known to her.
”You are remarkable,” she says softly, honestly. ”I don’t want to see what you are thinking. I want you to tell me.”
@[Amet]