[ But he lets her get away with it, more interested in dragging his hands down her back, her sides - then tentatively over the swell of one breast, the other settled at her waist. ]
[She makes a low noise, but she can't press into his hands properly and still have the space and leverage to do what she wants, so she sits back on her heels for a moment to tear his pants open.]
Enjoy all that unmarked skin (because he is utterly devoid of scars in this dream, of course) and the soft gradient of scales over his hips and the tops of his thighs.
Not that he gives her too much time to admire before he's dragging her back in to resume that earlier kiss. ]
And she leans in to kiss him eagerly, tongue pressing between his lips as her hands explore what is definitely more bare skin than she's ever had access to previously, paying particular attention to the curve of his pelvic bone and the texture of his scales.]
[ He shivers under her wandering hands, the shifting of those scales sending a thrill through him. That's certainly a new sensation - particularly because none of those scales are there in reality.
Not that his sleeping mind is thinking about that much.
The kiss takes on an edge, his fangs catching her lip more than once, clearly deliberate. And while she's occupied with all of that, he tries to throw his weight so that he can roll on top. ]
[The kiss gains the faint tang of blood as his fangs break skin a little. Her claws dig in to the scales at his hips, testing how durable they are, or maybe just reacting.
She could probably stop him from rolling her, but she decides not to, making a noise as her back hits the mattress.]
[ So generous. He doesn't break the kiss even as they flip places, settling his (infinitesimal) weight on her. He takes advantage of the new position to slide one hand down her side, over the curve of her hip, while the other presses into one breast, thumb working over her nipple. Seemingly just relishing in all the heretofore unexplored skin. ]
[Her scars crisscross her breasts, but her nipples are fortunately unscathed, and his touch transitions from rough scar tissue to soft warm skin to stiff nipples that only get stiffer under his attention.
She arches under his touch, encouraging, and she slides her foot on the mattress to bring her thigh up between his (bare, this time) legs.]
[ He makes a sound low in his throat when she shifts her leg, shifting his weight down onto her thigh while his fingers pinching that nipple hard in retaliation.
But then he shifts back slightly so that he can get a good look at her. For multiple reasons. ]
[The pinch makes her inhale sharply, and it takes her a few moments after that to register his question and focus, her pupils wide even when her gaze settles on him.
Even when she does, she's quiet a little longer, eyes roaming down his chest.]
You. A lot of things. You could start by keeping doing that. Or—this.
[She grabs the hand on her hip by the wrist and guides it more between her legs, though only about halfway there.]
What does he want? Maybe it's just that sentiment. "You." Or maybe it's something else, but it's a formless thing, a shifting warmth that pushes and pulls and never quite settles on anything. ]
I...
[ His hand continues even after she stops guiding it, trailing across her thigh, two fingers sliding between her legs to see how much this is affecting her. ]
... Usually just take what I want.
[ He leans back down to kiss her again, those fingers still working. ]
[ Oh, good. Then he wastes no time coaxing her legs farther apart and dragging his fingers along her clit, confident his fingers are already slicked enough for it to be pleasurable. ]
I intended to.
[ He settles one thigh between her legs for balance, so that his other hand can return to pressing hard into one nipple. Trying to see exactly what it takes to make her squirm, or make a noise. ]
Actually having him touching her clit after what feels like forever (is she sure it hasn't been forever? how long has she wanted it?) means her next breath comes out in a short moan, and her hips lifts off the bed to seek more pressure. And even the flush of pleasure through her makes her nipple even more sensitive than it was at his first touch, the touch making her fingers tighten and her claws pierce through the scales at his hips, this time.
She struggles to regain her breath for a response.]
He gasps, laughing, as her claws slip past those scales. Completely undeterred by the pain, because of course, maybe even pressing against it somewhat. Fucking ygos.
He keeps a steady pressure there, repeating any movement that earns a particularly good reaction, to set a more consistent rhythm of pleasure. And because some part of his subconscious remembers it all too well - he leans down to drag his fangs hard along the soft juncture of her neck and shoulder. ]
[She grins a little at his laugh. Has Maki been with literally anyone who was deterred by pain. Seems unlikely.
She keeps moving against his hand when his touch isn't quite enough, until his rhythm is enough to distract her and she settles down as warmth flushes through her body.
Then his teeth draw another sound from her, a low noise in her throat, and rakes her nails up his sides—this time the pressure isn't enough for the scales, scraping over them without damage, but when the scales taper off they break skin in thin lines.]
[ The skin under her claws shivers and shifts, the movement earning a low sound of approval. His free hand, meanwhile, travels down her side, the dip of her waist, her hip - until he can drag his fingers hard along the bottom of her thigh, coaxing a small bend in that leg. Fangs continuing to scrape until the sting of her claws has him sinking them in properly, drawing blood.
But he's careful not to move the hand that's working, particularly once she settles down - he just keeps at it, doing nothing save perhaps work faster. Determined to undo her at least once before doing anything else. ]
[She shudders when his teeth pierce her skin, and then she doesn't quite stop shuddering afterwards, shivers running up and down her spine as his hand moves quicker. The pleasure builds faster than she would expect, too—certainly much faster than when she does it on her own. The touch of his mouth and hands help, but so does just looking at him, hair and scales and wings reminding her that it's him working steadily to bring her off. She forgets to breathe for a moment before drawing in air sharply.]
[ He smirks, pleased with the reaction. Every twitch and shiver, every vocalization. He's never heard her like that before.
It's... nice.
He keeps working her with his hand, utterly unrelenting, while he draws his tongue over the marks on her neck - eventually placing a kiss there as he moves his way down her throat, trailing open-mouthed kisses the entire way. Adding whatever extra stimulation he can to make her squirm.
[They both clearly missed out on a lot of fun vocalizations by being literally underwater before.
She manages via effort to keep breathing, though it comes shallowly and noisily. Before much longer, the steady pace of his hand somehow transitions from A Lot to Not Enough, and her grip on him tightens as she half uses it to pull herself as she arches upwards, claws piercing a little deeper.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[She leans in again to curl the fingers of both hands under his collar. For some reason she seems to suddenly have her claws from the bingo game.]
no subject
[ Well then.
Why would he question that? Seems fine.
So instead he drags her in for a kiss. ]
no subject
And then she rips his shirt (and/or whatever other layers he has going on) right down the center of his chest like it's paper.]
no subject
You owe me a new shirt.
[ He does not sound bothered in the slightest. ]
no subject
[In fact her hands skim down over his chest and stomach to explore his waistband for the best grip.]
no subject
[ But he lets her get away with it, more interested in dragging his hands down her back, her sides - then tentatively over the swell of one breast, the other settled at her waist. ]
no subject
no subject
He's not complaining.
Enjoy all that unmarked skin (because he is utterly devoid of scars in this dream, of course) and the soft gradient of scales over his hips and the tops of his thighs.
Not that he gives her too much time to admire before he's dragging her back in to resume that earlier kiss. ]
no subject
And she leans in to kiss him eagerly, tongue pressing between his lips as her hands explore what is definitely more bare skin than she's ever had access to previously, paying particular attention to the curve of his pelvic bone and the texture of his scales.]
no subject
Not that his sleeping mind is thinking about that much.
The kiss takes on an edge, his fangs catching her lip more than once, clearly deliberate. And while she's occupied with all of that, he tries to throw his weight so that he can roll on top. ]
no subject
She could probably stop him from rolling her, but she decides not to, making a noise as her back hits the mattress.]
no subject
no subject
She arches under his touch, encouraging, and she slides her foot on the mattress to bring her thigh up between his (bare, this time) legs.]
no subject
But then he shifts back slightly so that he can get a good look at her. For multiple reasons. ]
Tell me what you want.
no subject
Even when she does, she's quiet a little longer, eyes roaming down his chest.]
You. A lot of things. You could start by keeping doing that. Or—this.
[She grabs the hand on her hip by the wrist and guides it more between her legs, though only about halfway there.]
But—what do you want?
no subject
What does he want? Maybe it's just that sentiment. "You." Or maybe it's something else, but it's a formless thing, a shifting warmth that pushes and pulls and never quite settles on anything. ]
I...
[ His hand continues even after she stops guiding it, trailing across her thigh, two fingers sliding between her legs to see how much this is affecting her. ]
... Usually just take what I want.
[ He leans back down to kiss her again, those fingers still working. ]
no subject
She presses up into his hand and into the kiss, a lingering, needy press of her mouth to his before she pulls away enough to say—]
So take it.
no subject
I intended to.
[ He settles one thigh between her legs for balance, so that his other hand can return to pressing hard into one nipple. Trying to see exactly what it takes to make her squirm, or make a noise. ]
no subject
Actually having him touching her clit after what feels like forever (is she sure it hasn't been forever? how long has she wanted it?) means her next breath comes out in a short moan, and her hips lifts off the bed to seek more pressure. And even the flush of pleasure through her makes her nipple even more sensitive than it was at his first touch, the touch making her fingers tighten and her claws pierce through the scales at his hips, this time.
She struggles to regain her breath for a response.]
Then let's—see what you can do.
no subject
Good.
More of that.
He gasps, laughing, as her claws slip past those scales. Completely undeterred by the pain, because of course, maybe even pressing against it somewhat. Fucking ygos.
He keeps a steady pressure there, repeating any movement that earns a particularly good reaction, to set a more consistent rhythm of pleasure. And because some part of his subconscious remembers it all too well - he leans down to drag his fangs hard along the soft juncture of her neck and shoulder. ]
no subject
She keeps moving against his hand when his touch isn't quite enough, until his rhythm is enough to distract her and she settles down as warmth flushes through her body.
Then his teeth draw another sound from her, a low noise in her throat, and rakes her nails up his sides—this time the pressure isn't enough for the scales, scraping over them without damage, but when the scales taper off they break skin in thin lines.]
no subject
But he's careful not to move the hand that's working, particularly once she settles down - he just keeps at it, doing nothing save perhaps work faster. Determined to undo her at least once before doing anything else. ]
no subject
Ah—yes—
no subject
It's... nice.
He keeps working her with his hand, utterly unrelenting, while he draws his tongue over the marks on her neck - eventually placing a kiss there as he moves his way down her throat, trailing open-mouthed kisses the entire way. Adding whatever extra stimulation he can to make her squirm.
Louder. ]
no subject
She manages via effort to keep breathing, though it comes shallowly and noisily. Before much longer, the steady pace of his hand somehow transitions from A Lot to Not Enough, and her grip on him tightens as she half uses it to pull herself as she arches upwards, claws piercing a little deeper.]
...Almost. Just...
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)