4.1

[sighsheavily]

I can't believe this... I actually like these.

[these being reference to what clothes she's picked at within the room they're holed in for hours indeterminate. she's pulled on a pastel gown and finished fiddling with the fiddlier bits, smoothing out the drapery in front of the floor-length mirror.]

The color is a shame, and I doubt this'd be of use if I get dropped in that bloody maze again, but still...

[it's nice. it feels nice! no more denim and excess buttons...

gads, the rhinestones making cactus blossom patters are kind of tacky, though. she oughtn't complain; it's a step in the right direction.]

Comments

[forgeabettertomorrow]

You won't get impatient if I take my time, then...?

[Said as he slides and arm under her waist and rolls onto the bed, taking her with him so she's on top of him. It's easier for him to get to her back this way, after all. He's just glad she's gotten used to him simply moving her around. And now that she's firmly on his lap, he starts guiding that fabric down her shoulders.]

[sighsheavily]

If it pleases you to do so, then it's fine. [because if she can be anything, she can be stubborn, impatience be damned.

being jostled around horizontally is weirder than being just picked up and set around: it has more hazards. like her hair getting caught somewhere unexpectedly, or her legs not having decent purchase. that said, she avoid accidentally kneeing him in the nads in getting her knees under her, sitting up so she has her hands free to bunch up a clump of her hair and push it to one side and out of his way before getting her arms also out of his way.

if he's going to take his time, she can't guarantee she won't be fidgety about it until told otherwise.]

[forgeabettertomorrow]

It's not me I'm looking to please, you know...

[Because now that she's situated, he returns to kissing her neck, all the way down her to her shoulder. As he inches her gown down her arms, his lips trail inward along her collarbone.]

[sighsheavily]

Is-- [she tilts her head up to accommodate him, trying to avoid flustering.] That's getting passed onto me, then? You better...have something to say about that. [before she's reduced to stammering mush, at least.]

[forgeabettertomorrow]

[He looks up at her while he continues to pepper her exposed skin with kisses and she can literally feel the smirk.]

Don't worry. You've gotten really good at pleasing me too...

[He inches the fabric down more; enough that Cecelia can slip her arms out completely now, if she even has the mind to.]

[sighsheavily]

[she scoffs a little, but there's no real bite to the sound - more impulse than interjection. there's conflicting feelings at play: the sense she is doing too little versus feeling too much to do anything of value; she can't exactly call up years of experience, if there's any to be referenced (and if those posters have any merit, then, maybe...)

carefully, she snakes her arms out of the sleeves one at a time; she's not cold, but all the attention he's giving her skin makes it prickle all the same.

before he can get too carried away, she hooks his chin with a finger and guides him back up to kiss her properly on the mouth more languidly for a bit - time for her to feel around for where she left off with the buttons of his shirt.]

[forgeabettertomorrow]

[It's kisses like that that make him practically melt against her. Kisses like that which make him shut off his brain and let him just...be loved. It's such a foreign concept to him; something baked in that transcends his memories. Hours later after they've finished, he always wonders how hard his life was. Had he been so touch-starved that his entire body felt like it was on fire from her kiss?]

[But those thoughts are always reserved for later. Maybe tonight he'll share them with her...open up another wound for her to suture it with her lips.]

[His patience is on full display while he lets her play with and undo the buttons of his tunic. He's learned the art of layering and as she undoes that, she'll find that black undershirt clinging to his muscled torso. But he's got to find something to do with his own hands in the meantime, so while he drowns himself in the touch of her lips, his hands snake around to her backside to give her an encouraging squeeze.]

[sighsheavily]

[the squeeze elicits a little squeak and a soft huff against his mouth. again: all bluster, no bite. she turns her head a bit to break the kiss and spare a glance down at what she's doing - this isn't a stupid cowboy shirt, so she has to get acquainted with this.]

Hmh. Do you pull this one over first? Orrr...

[forgeabettertomorrow]

Do you want me to do it so you can watch?

Or...maybe...

[The idea strikes him before he even finishes that first thought. With a sultry smile, he takes her hands and guides them to the last few buttons and the tie keeping the fabric tied tight around his broad chest.]

You undo the buttons...and untie this...

[Then, he guides her hands to his chest and moves her hands across his pecs to slide the tunic open and down his shoulders. Only then does he guide her hands to his waist where she can gather up the hem of his shirt and start to lift it.]

[He spares her a look before he starts to guide her hands up with his shirt in tow.]

[sighsheavily]

[her mouth twitches out of its thoughtful pucker into a small smile, both embarrassed and endeared to be guided through as she is. meeting his eyes with that look makes her face flush and her smile spread - something concealed both by the ducking of her head and the abrupt interruption of pulling clothes up and over.

the bashfulness ebbs to something more considerate while, as she's bundling up the shirt and tunic to be set aside, her eyes linger on his bare skin all marked up with countless scars. her chest tightens a bit with the mix of feelings it stirs before her eyes flick up and she's prompted to smile a bit warmer.]

Thank you. [she'll set those things aside.]

[forgeabettertomorrow]

[He places his hands on the sides of her thighs and pets them affectionately. He can't help but let out a small laugh.]

For what? Was it that gratifying to undress me?

[sighsheavily]

For the assistance, you dolt. [she pouts a little, starting to get fussy.] Shall I not be polite anymore?!

[forgeabettertomorrow]

In the bedroom? I figured pleasantries came before and after, not during.

[He leans in to kiss her again, trying to send that pout and that fussiness away for the time being. She really is like a cat...]

[Which is fine by him. If she's going to act like a cat, he'll pet her like one.]

[As he kisses her, his hands slide up her sides to gather at the hem of her dress so he can pull it down to pool at her waist. From there, his hands slide up her back, calloused hands on her skin while he leans in to pepper her chest with kisses.]

[sighsheavily]

[the complaint is smothered, but not entirely stifled, as she still has mind to utter a fussy sound even as she's squirming under the tingling effect his fingers have on her bare back.

breathless:] That, that doesn't make sense-- [the kisses are super effective at muddling her argumentative state, but she's nothing if not persistent when it comes to making a point.] You mean for me to be unkind in the, mnh, midst of this? Or shall I not talk at all-- [HONESTLY PROBABLY A GOOD CALL, she thinks, feeling a hot rush of embarrassment mixed in with arousal. weird mix. probably normal for her, though.]

[forgeabettertomorrow]

Oh, you can talk all you want during. But I think the only words out of your mouth are going to be praises and constant affirmations.

[While he was responding, his hands slid down her back and under the gown to give her backside a much more insistent squeeze to punctuate his comment.]

Lots of 'yes's followed by a few, breathless gads...

[He takes a moment to watch her reaction before his lips find their way to her breasts while simultaneously pulling her hips slowly into his.]

[sighsheavily]

[she shudders and bites back a sharp inhale in the midst of all that tactile information hitting her at once. and, yes, there was a gads on the tip of her tongue, stifled at the gh-- sound.

with nothing left to unbutton or wrap, Cecelia's hands had been held out, forgotten, until being pulled close brings them something to hold onto. she grips one shoulder while the other hand slips around his neck, remembering decent results from a previous encounter.]

Ss, so long as it please you, then...

[forgeabettertomorrow]

[He smiles against her skin. Always with 'So long as it please you.' It was cute how she could be so strong-willed one moment and melt into a complete puddle the next.]

[For now, though, he wanted to drag this out a bit. He wanted to kiss every freckle on her body, suck gently on the skin where he knew her new dress would hide the mark. They'd both been through hell; both known the touch of far sharper instruments and their bodies bore similar scars, both internal and external. Their nights together, while satisfying, always had that air lingering about them. The knowledge that, tomorrow, they had work to do. They had a task or something needed to be studied or investigated. They couldn't just enjoy the intimacy. It was release more than relief. And since they made their promise...he wanted to change that. One evening, one full night spent truly basking in each other. And what better a backdrop than this lavish room? Time will likely tell that this room isn't what it seems but for now it's all they need.]

[His lips find a nipple and his tongue flicks at it teasingly while her hand traces the enormous scar across his back. Her sensitive ears are probably drowning in the sound of his kisses and barely perceptible moans; sounds he makes only so that she can hear them. And when he feels he's kissed her body enough, he rolls her to the bed so he can properly pull that gown off completely.]

[sighsheavily]

[getting comfortable with closeness as a feature and not just a reaction or means to cope has been a long road: she could criticize every part of herself he lavishes, and she could apologize endlessly for straying fingers should they elicit too dramatic a shudder, even if it were a good one. even without remembering the full scope of her chosen role, the sense of trespass that comes with doing more for herself clings to her fiercely, like it were part of her.

it doesn't change how much she wants him; maybe it just makes her want him more to spite it. she may not have the right to be there with him, but she is all the same, wanting to be there and wanted there.

old, still-sleeping memory makes the ache in her chest bittersweet, and she can't understand the weird sense of vindication in her when she can open her eyes and see him above her. she just understands the luck.

after she's been stripped bare and near breathless, she captures his face before he can get lost in his motions, scanning his features and painting it to memory with the canopied backdrop.]

Hmhh...No, the...hyperbole was true. You are a wildly good and handsome man, Darin... Facts are facts.

[forgeabettertomorrow]

[He's not used to her speaking during moments like this. He can tell that, for some reason, her own voice in the throes of intimacy seem to mortify her. So the compliment catches him off guard. Enough so that he bows his head as his cheeks start to flush.]

[He takes her hand brings it to his lips to kiss it affectionately. He's not sure what to say to that. He's never been one to consider himself handsome. He just...is. And while he has confidence in his physique, he's never been one to make it his character. It's just a facet of himself. Something to be proud of but not annoying about.]

[As is so often the case with him, he deflects the praise. While it's accepted, he pivots and turns to snark and witticisms.]

And here I thought you were...supposed to save the praise for after my pants come off...

[sighsheavily]

You never spare praise in my regard, clothes or no. Not unless I complain. [always telling her she's beautiful, smart, or the like... heaps of praise she can barely stand to look at for how vast and bright they are. if she can't stand it, how can he? turnabout's fair play.]

[forgeabettertomorrow]

You're right...I guess I need to start getting used to hearing it more...

[But his joke has brought to light that he's still got too many clothes on. So, he pushes back and off the bed and she's treated to the sight of him stripping away the rest of his clothes. Boots, pants, boxers...which he leaves on the floor on the side of the bed in stark contrast to how she very pointedly laid out his shirt and tunic.]

[He looks her over, lying in bed, in wait for him to rejoin her and she can practically feel the way his eyes move up her body. And when he moves back onto the bed, he moves between her legs, carefully parting them by the calves. But before he descends upon her, he lowers herself to flutter a few kisses along her legs. He pecks softly at the scales on her knees before moving his lips up her thigh, his hands taking extra care to hold her legs in place, lest she accidentally kick out while he's lavishing her.]

[sighsheavily]

[fear and excitement share a lot of the same signals, and given that Cecelia is so sick of feeling fear, she can't help the wave of unease that comes with being so overtly exposed in the face of exposure. at onset, at least; just like in the length of time it's taken to get to this point, her acceptance is gradual...though, obviously, a lot faster than months now.]

Oh-- [if she had something to say, it's fast forgotten in the switch-flip from alarm to thrill. she still has plenty mind to be embarrassed of herself - like, what is she supposed to do with her hands!!! sit up?? stay put? - so no change there, but reminding herself of all the trust that's been rewarded Darin so far has not let her down even once keeps that switch from flipping back.

it's just embarrassing to think what should i do while oscillating between tensing up and relaxing in the midst of such care.]

[forgeabettertomorrow]

[He has to remind himself not to huff in amusement; her hearing is so sharp that even the slightest hitch in his breath would not only be heard, but it might make her self-conscious. He wonders how many years together it'll take for her to close her eyes in these moments and just relax. However many it takes, he's excited to be the one to take that journey with her. She always manages to surprise him and little surprises over the span of a lifetime is more than worth the patience required.]

[But he's not done pampering her. Not by a long shot. He kisses up her thigh where his breath tickles as much as his lips do. He lingers over her hips as his hands travel along her inner thighs, only to slide outward at the last moment. He presses his fingers into her muscles, kneading them like dough; slow and tender. Once upon a time he may have worried about hurting her, but he's ever mindful of every sound she makes. A lifetime of learning precise control over his muscles has made him very capable when it comes to rubbing someone down.]

[His lips find her navel and linger there long enough for his hands to move up her sides. To massage her breasts before sliding his body up until he's hovering above her with a cheeky smile. She can feel his frame between her legs and he's clearly drawing this out. After all, she did say to go as he pleases. And from the look of his eyes from behind his blue bangs, he's very much enjoying every second of this.]

How are you feeling, Muse~?

[sighsheavily]

A, a little silly. [she smiles wincingly, embarrassed to say as much.] But better-- [she puts a hand on his forearm.] Since my hands can do something? Now, at least.

[speak just a little more unappealing, she thinks to herself with disgust, exhaling with a scoff of a laugh.]

They're just...not as brilliant as yours, I'm afraid.

[forgeabettertomorrow]

[He laughs a bit and leans in to kiss her. Softly, slowly, full of love and tenderness and affection. A kiss that he wishes could last forever...but the singular night and perhaps the morning will have to do. They're both driven people. And they both know there will be plenty of time for things like this once they're free and can live their lives the way they want. With and for each other.]

I think your hands are just fine.

[He knows that, deep down, she's likely anxious because of her claws. He remembers how worried she was at the pool. And while he knows that she knows that he trusts her...he can empathize with not being entirely sure you trust yourself.]

[So, he raises his body a bit and takes her hands and places them on his bare chest. He presses them into the muscles, makes her flat out grope him.]

If you need some pointers...I can teach you...