wotanon | Dreamers After Dark (VII)

[ Surely it is because neither of them are willing to lose their little game, foolish as the whole thing is.

But who is to say what the rules for dreams are? No-- that's a risky thought. One slip and there was no telling how far he would fall. It had only taken one kiss after all. Ever since the first it has been nothing but a quick descent into madness. Each time he gave in he seemed to lose more of himself to his desires.

Creator help him if he wasn't afraid what giving in to this meant.

She kisses him and everything else seems to fade from existance. ]

You are entirely bad for me...

[ He kisses her again. ]

But I cannot bring myself to stop.

[ Again. Each time, his restraint slips a little further. ]

I do not know why it must be you. Yet I know deep down... only you will do. I cannot stop myself until I've had you. You alone are the one I desire.

[She pulls him on top of her, not roughly, but not giving him any choice either.]

Am I...?

[She kisses him back each time he does, lips tingling with the heat of him and his words]

Belladonna Kiss
Dark and sweet, you can't help but
Beg for what kills you

[She made this place for a rare want of peace, at least for a time, but it seems time's up. There's something darkly thrilling in this, perhaps because it feels as though the balance is shifting in her favour to hear him admit all this, but it is, perhaps, even simpler than that. It's in knowing she's in his blood this way, so desired.]

[ He does not resist the way he should. It is not difficult to draw him in. And in that instant there is no more question of it. The arousal trapped tight in his pants is pressed against her body. He hisses softly, if only to stop himself from moaning outright.

The desire is there-- to push her down and take her. End this cycle of suffering.

But his pride freezes him in place. He dare not take it that far. Not without dragging her down with him. He will not give her the satisfaction. ]

Perhaps it was your own longing that allowed us to meet like this. Maybe like me, you've found yourself yearning for something more... something that can satisfy like nothing else can.

Hmm...you'd like that wouldn't you...? That it was me. But no, you found me, Ky. A. Nite.

[She rolls her hips, full, unabashed.]

I feel that~

[Lily has very little shame on a good day, but they're in dreams now and there's a certain freedom in them that she cannot help but revel in. She would and perhaps still might tell him there are so many other wonderful people out there, but it's the furthest thing from her mind right now. She has his attention and she cannot say she minds it one bit.

She wonders if he's aware of what's really happening or if he is so in control of himself, so restrained, so proud that he won't let himself have her until he's won, even within the safety of his own mind.

Her voice is low, intimate, soft.]

Do you pin my hands above my head while you fuck me? Push my neck down into the sheets as you drive me into the mattress? Do I see see stars brighter than the ones above us? Do I say your name, Kyanite? A blessing and a curse and a prayer upon my sweetly parted lips? Do I hold you so lightly like I want you to be the only one?

[ Her words paint pictures that only push him further into a corner. If he gave in, bent his will to her-- he is certain she would be his and gladly so. And how he wants it. It is a desire unlike anything he has experienced since waking up here. Certainly the game plays it's part but he cannot believe that is it. Something stronger than that connected the two of them... fate, perhaps, silly as it is to believe. She would be his.

With a taste of gratification, he rolls his hips down against her. He chuckles, soft of breath. ]

Do you now?

[ It seems dangerous to indulge her leading suggestions. And yet-- he cannot resist fighting back with a challenge of his own. ]

Are you afraid that once you've had a taste of "perfection", your other playthings will be ruined for you? That perhaps you'll finally find what you're searching for? Because I'd be more than happy to steal you for my own.

[Her lips part in a quiet gasp and she rolls her hips again, not allowing him to get the "last word", so to speak.]

Those "playthings" do so many things for me you could barely wrap your mind around them. You'd need some incredibly sticky fingers to tear me away. And even then.

[If she can continue, so can he. And more pointedly, press down on her hips and rub it straight over her. Through the thin fabric, it's as daring a tease as he's allowed himself yet.]

And yet how many do you collect and still you seem unsatisfied-- still searching for more. They cannot satisfy you and so you give chase.

Mmm...I have an appetite, it's true, but that is because I care about everyone. Different people provide different things...you should try it, sometime.

[Instead of continuing to rut against him she reaches between them to rub the outside of his pants, but she cheats, a little. This is a dream, and she is a BARiTONES and so she can control it and so for a fleeting moment, he feels her hand like it touches him directly, the warmth and softness and strength.

Surely, it only lasts a moment and yet...it seems to stretch, somehow. But it does end.]

Are you certain it's not more what they're lacking?

[His tone doesn't read as intentionally cruel-- after all, he doesn't know. He cannot claim to understand the workings of her relationships despite what it seems.

It is hard to try and continue thinking on it at all, however, when he feels the stroke of her hand is on him. He knows his clothes should be there, yet he knows what he feels is not that. She has a great deal of power, and that power has a great affect on him.

Without them she could feel it twitch and throb eagerly for her in her hand; desperate for her touch.

The things he omits for the sake of their game. Although it's clear as day, the way he bites his lip to silence himself.]

They don't lack anything, not more than any other person and not in any way that matters. You're quite an arrogant god, aren't you?

[She keeps stroking him outside his pants, but she intersperses it with more of those mysterious, impossible barehanded strokes. Sometimes they're fast, sometimes they last a little longer, but they always end.]

Especially when you want it so badly.

I have not kept my wanting a secret.

[He continues to grow beneath her hand. If his size was not impressive before, by the time she has worked him up, it’s quite pronounced. The heat radiates from him. For all his cool composure, the way he rocks against her gives away his more honest side.]

From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew... I wanted you to be mine.

[That gives her a moment's pause, actually, her hand stopping before she starts again]

Ahh...surely you had better things to worry about...

I would not lie to you about something so silly.

[He reaches out and cups her cheek gently.]

I do not know what it is but you are truly a captivating woman. I could not give up on you now even if I wished it.

[Despite her confusion and misgivings she does lean into the touch without a second thought.

Though she still doesn't understand. She knows she's attractive and cute, but to be so wholly taken...she either underestimates her appeal or everyone is simply mistaken.

It's probably the latter. Yeah.]

Sit up and back.

[How she can be so wrong about the depths of her appeal, he will never understand. But then, even he doesn’t fully understand the full depths of her charms.

Like why he’s so inclined to obey when she asks him to move.

Though he hesitates for a moment; an internal battle taking place, less than half a minute passes and he sits up and slides back.]

...very well.

[She waits for him to move before she's crawling between his legs, settling there as she pulls his pants down enough to release him.

My.

She could feel how big he was, but it's entirely another thing to see it like this. She curls a lock of hair behind her ear as she leans down to start licking at his head, trailing her tongue in smooth, slow circuits.]

[He sees that discreet sparkle in her eye as she looks him over. Kyanite only just resists saying something. But he is all too happy to distract himself with the sight of her bowing her head to taste him; sinfully delightful swirls of her tongue making him feel things in ways he did not know he could.

Both his heart and his sex swell. It is not the surrender he would have liked to take, but her willingness to service him this way is a fine alternative for now.

He leans back and watches her, narrowed eyes stalking her every movement.]

Edited 2021-01-10 09:07 (UTC)

[That's because it isn't surrender.

But he can like or suspect what he chooses, for now. Lily licks wider circuits around his cock and takes the tip past her lips to suck at it briefly. She needs to tread carefully, here. Her lips begin to draw him past, deeper and deeper, though she doesn't take him all the way before she pulls to the top, letting him go to kiss all along his shaft.]

[It is not the raw, intense pleasure he felt from her before. It is something more careful-- soft as she explores him for the first time. He finds no desire to rush her. Each kiss leaves his skin warm and tingling; while her tongue is a gentle whirlwind of cool and hot air swirling over his skin.

He trembles ever so slightly beneath her; only as composed as he can force himself to be on the surface while his spirit boils and bubbles from within.]

[The taste of him is marvelous already and he feels so hot against her lips. She wonders if he could sear her with it and she feels there's no reason why she shouldn't find out and so she continues to kiss and kiss him, up and down, down then up before her tongue returns to lick long stripes along his shaft. She blows cool air against his slick skin before taking him back into her mouth.

This is a little dangerous, though.

He's so big...long and thick and she knows her own proclivities--this is what she really likes and she cannot get the thoughts of taking him inside out. She won't let it come to that yet, but the thought is there.

Sigh. If only she weren't such a size queen.

Her hand gets involved, soft, clever fingers wrapping around him before she starts to stroke. He's slick enough now that her hand has no trouble, perhaps even slicker than he should be--this is a dream and she will use every advantage.

She stares up at him through her long lashes, eyes hazy, but intent and curious. She wonders how he'll react to what she's doing.]

[Some part of him knows this feels better than it should as the dream shifts to answer her needs. But it is more than just those little details that make it feel almost too perfect. She toys with him; testing and kissing until he realizes he’d been holding his breath.

The shaky exhale sounds suspiciously like pleasure. His face is calm and collected, but his upper cheeks have collected the lightest dusting of pink.

Hands and mouth both draw forth what he feels must have been familiar sensations at one point. Yet here and now they feel new again, behind a heavy curtain of lost memories. He places his hand on her head as if gently patting her for a job well done. He swallows and continues to watch, encouraging her to continue.]

[He's a tough nut to crack, but she doesn't mind the challenge. She'll win this much, in the end. She'll make sure of it.

But there's no rush. She can take her time in his ruin.

That he's so restrained is interesting in itself. She doesn't miss much when it comes to physicality, but her attention is sharpened. Galvanised. And so she can't help but notice those little things. The heat in his face, the tension from holding his breath, the way he breathe eventually, subtly, but clearly affected.

That he only tries to hold himself back makes this better, because she's edging him out. He's not invincible or invulnerable, he can be affected beyond what he allows.

She cannot be certain if the way he pats her is meant to be condescending or not. She almost hopes it is because she intends to break him with pleasure soon enough.

For now.

She hums softly with every stroke of hand or tongue, evidence of her own enjoyment. Her fingers are very smooth and soft, but strong, capable and she pumps him in hand before she stops--only to take all of him into her mouth and deep into her throat all at once. Her lips touch the base of him and her mouth and throat are so very hot, wet, and tight. She holds him there wondering how he'll take the sudden barrage of sensation before she slips her mouth up once more, humming low in her throat this time so that he'll feel the vibrations everywhere as she withdraws.

He's so slick now after that, and she starts to move faster, sucking just at his head once, twice, three times, letting him go with a wet pop before she takes him back in once more. Up and down, she starts to set a rhythm, head bobbing and hand pumping at the same time.]

[He can sense her inner scheming, yet he cannot find it in himself to care one way or the other. Let her do her worst-- he finds he'd like to see it.

The pat was affectionate enough-- though coming from him, it wouldn't be difficult to mistake for something more condescending, nor would he be offended over such an interpretation.

There is no proving whether her enjoyment comes from the act itself or the fact that she's getting to toy with him. But it works wonders on his restraint. It is small at first; cracks in the foundation... but when she takes the entirety of his cock into her mouth, his voice cracks and his fingers tighten in her hair. Any less guarded and he might have spilled there.

How embarrassing that would have been.

But he manages to repress it, only just. It does nothing to hide the sound he'd made-- so raw as he was overpowered by her. And there was a certain turn on in that. Winning was lovely, sure, but she-- she was better.]

No more games... I know you can do better than that. Don't pretend you aren't dying to drink your fill. We both want this.

[An offer of a truce-- for them both to get what they want. Come tomorrow they could pretend this never happened. They would return, even, and both satisfied.]

[Sorry, she cannot answer him because her mouth is full of his very big cock.

She might have been a bit more careful from the start if she weren't dreaming, but she has none of the usual worries here and so she sucks him, taking him deep in her mouth very frequently. She alternates, tries to keep it unpredictable and interesting, but she swallows him often, head bobbing faster and faster.

But she is keeping a pulse on how he is feeling, how close he is getting.]

[He cannot fault her for not answering him, when her mouth is currently occupied doing something arguably more important for him. Whether or not he will remember this, he cannot say, but he is thoroughly committed to enjoying it while it lasts regardless of the answer.

Strong hands stroke her hair; the gesture more loving than most he's allowed himself to show up until now. It is an expression of his praise for her skill.

And in letting his guard down, even his body has an easier time being honest. Any tension drains and he allows himself to revel in the full feeling of her mouth; tight and eager as it is. With it, come obvious tells that she can pick up. Such as the way his fingers will twitch in her hair mid-movement as he starts to get close. Or the slight shift in his taste as tiny drops of pre-come are taken in by her mouth.

He, however, doesn't seem keen on outright telling her; although he's allowed himself to express himself. His voice rumbles, deep, as he moans outright as her pace quickens.]

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