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[corporeity]

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[nightsung]

[ Perhaps it's because they've been skirting the edge of this all night--from the moment Shadowheart clasped his cuffs and collar at their flat, roles assumed--that she crests into overwhelm faster than expected. Or perhaps it's just Gale, tongue as clever as he'd promised, lapping at her folds and ever-offering more: of himself, his service, words and fantasy thickening the heat between them. The mage hand filling her, filling him, and she imagines it in addition to his tongue and his fingers, close to too-much. ]

Gale--

[ Aloud and louder than she should be, even with the cloak of pass without trace still blanketing their aura. The iron railing digs sharp between her fingers as Shadowheart comes with her hips grinding helplessly against Gale's mouth, gasping into the aftershocks, her vision blotted out by stars.

It takes her a moment to see him again, her inner thighs tender and slick from his mouth and her own juices. Panting, she manages, ]

Up. [ Using Gale to steady the wobble of her legs, as much as anything, shifting her grip on his hair to the chain at his throat to tug him back to his feet. Her cheeks and chest are flushed pink, bangs clinging sweat-damp to her temple when she presses herself close, hooking a leg around Gale's hip to dig her heel into his calf, breathless. ] Kiss me.

[corporeity]

[ He’s performed better here than he did on the cross, he knows that, even if she hasn’t told him so. A part of him wonders if he ought to keep going. Tilting up on his aching knees, he’s not all there, lost in the sight and sound of her. Drowning in the depths of their shared satisfaction.

But Shadowheart grasps his collar and pulls him from the water. Can’t recall where to put his hands, so he ends up clasping the rail behind her. A wise move, when she hooks her leg around his as if he’s steady or strong. If anything, he’s softer, more vulnerable for having given her a kind of worship he thought behind him. His other hand lifts to cup the heart of her jaw. There is no world where he denies her anything, in this moment, least of all something he himself wants. The pert pink of her mouth seems just as lovely, as impossible, as the warm flush of her body, the bob of her chest while she fights to even her breathing. He takes it in quick and greedy, unwilling to keep her waiting. ]

—Yes, mistress. [ Both a tease and not, caught in the vortex of this role and his existing inclinations. How many times do you intend to love a woman who can’t love you back?

He kisses her as if starved, despite the sticky-sweet taste of her still on his tongue, wetting the rough of his beard. Any chaste or shy instincts have gone the way of his dignity tonight. His bare skin presses against her silken dress, her soft curves. ]

[nightsung]

[ Shadowheart doesn't hold back, doesn't tease or deny: she meets Gale in the kiss with a soft, helpless sound, both hands moving to loop around his neck, one tangling in the hair at his nape. She tastes herself and shudders, the accompanying clench of arousal almost painful in the immediate aftermath of her climax.

She wants him. Not just to satisfy her own need, nor to keep him tied to her and this mission. She wants to keep kissing him, their bodies pressed close, a sweetness she hasn't experienced since-- She doesn't know. Maybe never. It's new to her, either way, his heat and his clever tongue. ]

Good boy. [ Gasped against his mouth, more earnest than she means to be as she surges into another kiss, and another, unable to keep herself quiet. Shadowheart knows better than to get distracted like this, with so much at stake, but Gale is distracting. ]