02-26-2017, 12:44 AM
Stillwater
His eyes lit as she took a step backwards, retreating from his touch. He cocked his head as he studied her. Interesting. Typically he was so quickly accepted, so instinctively desired and reached for. Something here went deeper than his unnatural attraction, his lure to enthrall them closer and closer still. He didn't follow her withdrawal despite the natural pull to do so, to fill the gap she pressed between them. Her honey-eyes darted away from him, and still he stood, listening to the delicious race of her pulse beneath her tender skin.
For a time, she was lost to him, hidden away in tangled thoughts. It was revealing, this hiding from him. So there was more to her than the shallow exterior she put on, the play that annoyed him more than he let them see. But all too soon it was back again, the true Charlemagne was packed away and locked up tight, tucked and hidden out of sight, and out came the showgirl that he'd rather just drown and devour. And yet a cryptic grin slowly spread, a smile that was unintentionally and yet devastatingly alluring. Because she offered him a feast.
"I have been known to take a swim in my day," she said, every line of her sketching an image of seduction once more, pathetic wiles entirely lost on him. He nearly sighed, but held the glimmer of interest in his dark eyes. "But I much prefer talk about you trying to make me wet." She was seductive, knew exactly what she was doing, what she was saying and how she was saying it. How he should be hearing it.
And yet she seemed to have no idea he'd rather just hold her beneath the water and watch her drift away in his grip, drink her and hear the bubbling screams sounding like a beautiful siren singing through the underwater world. They never really knew, though. They weren't meant to until it was too late.
His smile grew, eyes bright with hunger as he circled her closely. This time he didn't touch her, didn't give her reason to shy away again. Faded light of the moon lit across his wet skin, catching on those coarse little hairs that made him appear so very normal to them as he passed the round of her hip. His progress was languid and slow, drawn out in the silence that he let fall over them. He placed her between them, between the monster and his sea, his mouth slowly reaching for her again as he met her eyes, watched her to turn and face him.
It won't be difficult, he said smoothly, quietly, as he stepped closer to her. Backwards, he guided her with each methodical step, to the bank, to the water. It'll be fun, he breathed, the desire evident in his voice, in the attractive gleam to his dark eyes. Another step forward, holding that canary gaze so delicately, so firmly. He smiled, dazzling and perfect; trustworthy. You might like it, he offered softly.
Another step forward.
For a time, she was lost to him, hidden away in tangled thoughts. It was revealing, this hiding from him. So there was more to her than the shallow exterior she put on, the play that annoyed him more than he let them see. But all too soon it was back again, the true Charlemagne was packed away and locked up tight, tucked and hidden out of sight, and out came the showgirl that he'd rather just drown and devour. And yet a cryptic grin slowly spread, a smile that was unintentionally and yet devastatingly alluring. Because she offered him a feast.
"I have been known to take a swim in my day," she said, every line of her sketching an image of seduction once more, pathetic wiles entirely lost on him. He nearly sighed, but held the glimmer of interest in his dark eyes. "But I much prefer talk about you trying to make me wet." She was seductive, knew exactly what she was doing, what she was saying and how she was saying it. How he should be hearing it.
And yet she seemed to have no idea he'd rather just hold her beneath the water and watch her drift away in his grip, drink her and hear the bubbling screams sounding like a beautiful siren singing through the underwater world. They never really knew, though. They weren't meant to until it was too late.
His smile grew, eyes bright with hunger as he circled her closely. This time he didn't touch her, didn't give her reason to shy away again. Faded light of the moon lit across his wet skin, catching on those coarse little hairs that made him appear so very normal to them as he passed the round of her hip. His progress was languid and slow, drawn out in the silence that he let fall over them. He placed her between them, between the monster and his sea, his mouth slowly reaching for her again as he met her eyes, watched her to turn and face him.
It won't be difficult, he said smoothly, quietly, as he stepped closer to her. Backwards, he guided her with each methodical step, to the bank, to the water. It'll be fun, he breathed, the desire evident in his voice, in the attractive gleam to his dark eyes. Another step forward, holding that canary gaze so delicately, so firmly. He smiled, dazzling and perfect; trustworthy. You might like it, he offered softly.
Another step forward.
go down with me, fall with me, lets make it worth it