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The skies above Doma are awash in the darkest of shades - the most velvet of all blacks and blues, a glimmer of crystals that’d formed like diamonds in the tapestry that was the night.
Against this backdrop do the lights flicker upon the ground - a mess of color and radiant sound, of symphonious music and joy.
Paper lanterns are strung about the enclave that night, made to shed light upon the various sweets and snacks to be enjoyed amongst locals and travelers, stalls with hawkers and musical performers - for Doma is in the clasp of full celebration this eve - for a yearly festival made to commemorate the liberations of a people long oppressed.
It is here on this evening that Raha finds himself, slipping between a mass of people and their exuberant measures of joy, clad in silks and cotton, kimonos and yukatas, outfits adorned in the most vibrant, most striking of shades.
Shifting through the crowd, it’s an effort in itself to keep from getting distracted, as the hawkers in the stands call out for various goods - ornaments and vases, papercrafts and jewelries, delicacies and mementos of nigh every kind. He himself had gotten wrapped up into purchasing more than one of these things - a few gifts, a souvenir, even a number of amezaiku’s - candy that’d been kneaded into designs of the most detailed shapes - a fox, a namazu, even an otter - each of which he couldn’t wait for Kalea to behold.
Yet for her to be able to see it - he must first, of course - be able to find her .
And one would think that this would be difficult, one would think this would be most hard. In the slew of chaos that is absolute enjoyment and fervor, for any other person - it would most certainly be a trial in its very own right.
And yet Raha has gained nothing if not a most distinct ability to find his lover in a sea of souls - for no matter the lights that aimed to blind him, the distractions that aimed to intrude -
Theirs is a palpable bond that would ever quite resonate in his heart - a tangible, living thread, of which would ever link his soul to hers.
At least - this is most certainly what it feels like - for it is with this exact same sense, that he would find her first.
Upon the pavilion of the One Garden, reflected in the waters of the pond - hers is an elegant image that would always ever serve to draw him up short .
A few mere paces away is where he stops - to watch with no faint amount of interest as the woman in question kneels before a Doman child - all ivory clad grace set against the blossoms and the leaves, a delicate furrow to shift upon her brows as her fingers arranged a ribbon to be laced against the younger girls locks.
A most intricate venture, and yet one which Kalea seemed to be most practiced in - as she wove ebony hair into a delicate updo, with swift, careful movements; a design that would match so much her own stylings were they clad in more familiar garb - for it was quite often that Raha would see that style of ribbon set upon her own silken brown hair. The lavender to the periwinkle that was to be braided upon the younger's crown.
He sees that same string of lavender upon her wrist now, the one thing she would never dare to part with - even with her attire fashioned in the way it was today.
And for all his love for her - for all the things she had ever done, that would never fail to make his heart seize -
It is this tradition of which she honors that would always serve to fluster his heart the most.
And it is so easy to watch, to admire her from afar - about as difficult as it is to have to momentarily stay away.
For he would not dare to break this moment - to slip himself a place against this display of tenderness, of absolute warmth, for it was one that was to be shared between the girls and the girls alone, as Kalea finished with her ministrations and the younger one turned on her heels to preen; to coo over her image in the water as she'd swayed about in joy - a giggle upon the Miqo'te's lips, both their features radiating such beauty and grace - as Kalea herself would always ever manage to do -
But it is the little one that leaves first - as she manages a trilling gratitude, loud and effervescent as it rose against the air - a tight hug shared in earnest, before she is off and running across the bridge - to show herself off to her peers, no doubt; for how could she not? When she was as lovely and well dressed as the Warrior of Light herself -
G’raha Tia… would ever be the first one to encourage this.
Yet as Kalea rises to her feet, a smile graced upon her lips as she'd shifted a glance back towards him - a glimpse of levin to rush beneath her gaze, as long lashes are made to flutter - for a gracefulness borne of something both delicate and utterly soft -
It is as though every emotion rushes upon him in that instant - those that would make him crave for far more than just mere abstract admiration,
For to be even an ilm apart from her, is at this point - nothing but absolute sacrilege.
And he would not allow another moment to wander away.
“And so it would seem I have found the source,” he comes to utter, a loud intonation made against the summer air, a show of faint bravado as he eases forward - a smile upon his lips with a flush to be lent upon his cheeks, the smoothest of what he can hope to manage, against the radiant joy of being graced by her attentions, finally - “I was wondering when I saw the third little girl run about if someone was offering a dress up 'Warrior of Light' service nearby.”
The brightness of her laughter to linger upon the night - a measure of birdsong, and one that he cannot help but melt into with every ilm of his being. “To be fair -" she starts, "I would consider the real culprit to be whoever decided to hand out lace ribbons this evening. The first one was mere happenstance, the other three just wanted to match.”
“Oh,” he chuckles, “of that I would not doubt. You are quite a fashion icon in your own right, my love. I’m quite certain that once word gets out about your services, you’ll have more than a gaggle of which to contend with, if you’re not careful.”
Amusement along his eyes, as he eases his boon of sweets towards her, a low tone laced along his voice, “You don’t suppose it would be most prudent of me - no less selfish , if I were to steal you away first, would you?”
“I should think not,” she responds, a coyness to glimmer along her gaze, as she accepts his proffered gift with utmost grace. “for you are the lone person allowed to be as selfish with me as you’d wish, Raha. After all, we are to be here together - and when you give me such lovely gifts,”
The glimmer of her eyes, as she gazes upon the sand toned hues of the sugared fox - “my, how can I resist?”
The very words he himself would wish to claim, as he gazes upon her image, and feels himself struck by the same.
For the pavilion on this side of the garden is set with tones aglow in romance and light - the most perfect setting designed for a vision as radiant as she.
And this close, he can see it in every whisper of her being - the irradiance of which no one else could claim - that which is laced in the silken curls of her bound hair, the intricate way she’d twisted it into a bun - held safe only by the silvered chopsticks that dangled a glistening blossom at the end of each point.
The lightness strung about the glimmer of her eyes, framed by such long, thick lashes - a pale, brilliant lavender - swirls of color for which he could drown, left to flutter as she'd moaned, as lips of only the plushest pink slipped around the sweet he'd so earnest proffered - to close around the foxes petite sugar strung ear; as Raha's own attention was made to dwindle - the sound itself just sweet enough to make a swell of heat within him rise.
He stiffens were he stands, but that does not stop him from admiring her still. Does not stop his gaze as it ran upon the bounds of her attire - across the kimono made of silken ivory, that’d clothed her in shades that would so much befit a goddess, as it’d curved along her petite frame, to the voluptuous swell of her breasts, to the delicate lines of her waist - an innate gracefulness left to flow into the long lines of her legs - for as beautiful as she was in such sophisticated garb - the image she’d made would ever beg of him the desire to uncover more.
More - he thinks - as his mind wanders to the beauty marks he knew were set upon her skin; those in clear view - just above the bow of her lips, and the two just below the curve of her eyes - and those of which he knew were hidden, to be decorated upon elegant shoulders and upon her pert arse - an image of which he couldn’t help but earnestly consider for as his body thrummed a line of heat against him in turn, so distracted by everything he couldn’t yet see - even as the woman in question giggled a bright laugh -
For which he comes back to himself with a jolt - to the image of lavender hues that fluttered teasingly before his eyes, the kind that would take of him his entire attention, no matter his bodies most vagrant needs - as she leans ever closer upon his gaze - for even with such a petite, delicate frame, would she command his attentions entirely -
His ears cant to her words, as they meld into the sweetness of what he could hear there -
“What would you be thinking so deeply of, my love?” She asks,
And in the vividness of her eyes, as her words would aim to make every pulse of his very heart stop -
he wonders there, how she can still yet stand to ask .
“You.” he says at once, because it is the truth, and there is no point lying about it. For she is all he ever thinks about, whether asleep or awake, whether conscious or not -
The only thing he can stand to consider - that could command his attention like no one else, as his words prompt from her a reaction he cannot help but adore - the fluster of pink that floods across her skin, a measure of surprise and bashfulness, as she attempts to brush past it - to lay upon him a smile of something most impossibly coy ,
“Oh? Me? And what is it about me that you would strain so intensely to think about?”
A question she asks, as she takes that one step closer into his chest, to curl up right into his arms - in the clearest view of Doma and her people, amidst the flicker of light and sound, no semblance of them to be barred against those who would otherwise stare -
For they are just a couple in love - and one who would make utterly no attempt to hide it.
And it is laced in the way they gaze into each others eyes, the heat to be pressed against each other's breath, the way they seem to fall into the others open embrace… to meld into this intimate connection of souls still bound upon the whirls of their own bodies, yet still ever wishing to be laced against everything more…
For Raha feels so much of the same. Bound and captured upon the pull and orbit of this exquisitely incredible woman - a measure of which would always serve to leave him lost and stranded, made to gaze upon every vision of her glory -
And know in his heart of hearts - that he could not seem to want to desire anything less.
Because yes, this is what he wants. This, and nothing less then this.
Nothing less, then her.
And so he says it again,
“You,” he utters, the words brushed deep and low, “and perhaps this relentless desire I have to unbound you from that measure of silk.”
A most formidable answer, but one to which she laughs, “Measure of silk?” She repeats, and oh, but she has the gall to almost act surprised , “My kimono then? Do you not think it suits me? Tataru would be so greatly disappointed if she knew, considering all that she’d done into having this lovely piece made -”
“You would be most gorgeous -” he cuts in, “and most enticing when bound upon the fabric of a popoto sack, Kali. For it is not the outfit that adorns you, that makes me wish to ravage you. ”
Not at all, he thinks, as he breathes upon the vision that is her in her entirety - the brilliance of the smile that curls upon her face, the quirk of amusement for which he’d wish to kiss - for right there upon her lips -
To be made so soft and so utterly kissable, so endlessly inviting - designed to tease him with all the loveliness he’d always known them to be…
It is all he can take not to kiss her. Not to sweep her against the pole and take her mouth against his, for where he was certain he would delight in the sweetness of her tongue - now tinted by the rush of sugar that’d brushed upon her lips -
For it is to this thought that his want rushes through, as he laces a finger into the obi of her attire - the faintest, most teasing pull - for where she gasps against him, on the issuance of a breathless laugh -
“You look beautiful. Ravishing. A temptation designed to strike me and leave me gasping for air,” he utters, to the welcome hitch of her breath rushing against his own, as he coils his finger into the fabric - silken softness pressed against the pad of his digits as he breathed, “But you are always most beautiful when you are unbarred. When you are draped against the sheets and gasping, begging and straining for the same rush of breath you always steal from me.”
And he sees the way her eyes darken against his words, the intensity of which her gaze strikes - like liquid levin flickering across the storm of her eyes -
“I want to see you like that.” he continues, “Right now," he whispers, "right here."
A most dangerous admission, and one that would certainly leave the majority of Doma aghast if he were to give in to it,
And yet would she still smile, a most tempting lilt to her lips,
“Is that so?” tone laced with everything as electrifying as her gaze, as demure and flirtatious as she was beneath the radiance of luminescent lavender - as she grins at him, as she beams -
“Perhaps you’re in luck then. For I have felt a bit of a heat come over me this evening - and the summer air has been quite oppressive in certain ways.”
A kiss pressed ever so chastely against his lips - for where it was nothing placed upon him, but that of an open mouthed whisper -
“I don’t suppose you could come with me, and maybe help me take care of that?”
And it is a mystery how no one yet manages to notice them, to make a spectacle and point them out, for as lost as they are in each other's embrace; yet perhaps it is to the grace of the falling blossoms that the world would aim to shield them. Perhaps it is the call that chimes across the air, a request to look towards the night sky, for where bright cheers could be heard rushing loud all about them - bright laughter and delight, and the nigh endless whispers of awe - as the sky above burst into myriad colors before them, radiant and striking - and yet ---
And yet.
Would his gaze ever be bound here - to the image of her , to the radiance he knew above and beyond could only ever be found along her glory, a celestial being for which the gods had granted him a blessing.
And Raha is all devotion and fervent reverence as he kisses her - a sharp and impossibly deep mess of mouth and tongue - as she mewls against him in a way that makes her fall into his arms, as his hands grasp hard upon her hips, to ease her further forward, into every semblance of a way of which made his very heart keen ,
For when he steals his mouth away - it is to only breathe upon her a promise -
“I would follow you anywhere , Kali. You would never have to doubt.”
And she is all decadent sweetness pressed against his lips, luxurious amusement for which he was weak -
And when she smiles at him - in all the ways of which his heart could but yearn; for he knows by any absolute means of the word - that with this is he so utterly, completely lost -
“I would have you prove those words then - on a chase for me, my love.” a whisper , as she takes but a mere step away -
“Make sure not to stray too far behind. For I would sooner have you close, closer and closer,” she whimpers, “then ever so far apart.”
The crux of those words left to strike into his very being, as she winks at him with a twinkle in her eyes, before she turns and makes swiftly away; into the bounding darkness of the path, for which led back to the palace - through the Kienkan’s royal gardens, as a falling petal drifted from the bounds of her hair as she moved - a memento for which to best remember her by…
And yet Raha is nothing but a razing frenzy ever from the start. And he allows her nothing but a heartbeat to run away. Allows her nothing but a moment.
Swift and faint and barely, barely there - yet as soon as she disappears into the shadows, with nothing but her faint aroma to drift upon the night - it is then. Then -
he is on for the chase.
A drift of ivory in the darkness, and he would be close behind. A glimpse of lilac, glimmering aether as that link of levin binds him tight - a lavender note of which edges him close, as he dodges trees and branches, as he navigates along the shadows of the footpath - to find more and more things of which to follow her by.
A handkerchief that was spread against a bush. A fan that was placed upon a bench. Her own lilac ribbon - the same one he’d given her, ever so long ago - dangling teasing on a cherry blossom branch.
Against the nightfall, against the musky summer air - he finds these treasures of hers, and he follows; against fireflies that stopped to flutter, along fountains lit aglow against the light struck sky - after her scent - that of jasmine and cherry blossoms, and bright, brilliant sunshine. The same notes of which had etched their way across his soul with her most indelible mark - but made richer this eve, somehow. Made deeper. More pronounced. As it set upon his being and lured him onward, into the darkness of the palace, made so scarce by its inhabitants who were still outside with the people, for it was a night to be granted - to best delight in the festivities of the world beyond -
But this is where they would find themselves instead.
And Kalea’s essence is laced in nigh every aspect of the corridors of which she’d skipped, and his heart beats aloud with the joy of being utterly submersed in it.
For it does not take him too long to find her - to follow her lingering trail to a familiar paper screen door -
Yet it is the unlaced obi, that spools into a flood of bright fabric upon the floor - that makes his very heart hitch .
Raha stops. And he stares.
And then and there, feels every part of him come alive .
Lit aglow in a way that he cannot name, as he stalks forward to dig his hands into the silk, to hold it tightly against his grasp - as the knowledge that she had swiftly unbound herself - just before this door, for which anyone walking by could have seen, as she’d aimed to leave him a gift, designed only for him…
It is an allure of which bounds across his skin in a way that makes him weak .
And as he looks into the room that remains sealed from his gaze - a faint crack upon the door, for where he can smell the heady scent of her waft through the screens… enough that he can imagine the taste of her, the look of her - disheveled and bared and wanton already...
He clenches his hand upon the obi - laces it around his knuckles, presses it to his face, and breathes .
The scent of silken indulgence - of sex and heat and sunshine - so familiar and yet so intense; as an absolute desire lines against his every ilm, made ever more intoxicating by the most vivid scent of it -
For this, his mouth waters. For this, his cock throbs .
With trembling hands and stumbled breath, Raha brushes the door open, and takes a step through -
And then and there - doesn’t dare to look back.
With Kalea - after all - he knew he’d only ever had to look ahead .
For in the future - in every future -
He knew she would always be waiting for him.
And it is with this thought that the screen behind him shifts closed.
This thought - that would settle in his mind, before the world before him would yet prove to offer everything brand new .
For the room beyond the door is lit by the thrum of an energy both tranquil and maddening - a humming of which he could not seem to place, even as the weight of the sensation serves to run him through.
Against the faint light of a paper lantern, is the room brushed aglow - in a space that’s been designed to be both comfortable and expansive, and most utterly luxurious . From the table settings where they’d earlier sat and had tea, to the bedrolls of which had been laid out for them after they’d left the room. The most simplistic of necessities, yet those which most certainly would have been enough for any adventurer far too used to the wilds.
Yet Hien had gone to no shortcuts to ensure his dearest friend would have the fullest comforts of which Doma could provide, and so they’d been granted something more to their privilege, for what lingered just beyond the bounds of the room -
Was a private garden, and a hot spring.
One that is left open to him now, as the evening wind wafted in - a cool breeze amidst the summer air, the sound of water to lure him onward -
And when eventually he finds her, to be found sitting just by the spring -
his heart skips a beat.
Unhitched and to be sown into a frenzy - left to pool into a semblance of absolutely everything more ...
For she is every unbound desire of his soul - and he would ever find himself allured towards her.
More than ever - more than anything - most especially when she was like this .
“Kalea…”
A whisper uttered into the musky air, for she was a vision draped just along the edge of the spring, one leg dipped into the water, and one leg out - bent at the knee upon the rock as her robe fell loosely upon her shoulders - to the reveal of creamy, yet unbarred flesh, flecked by those same beauty marks of which he’d yearned to press his lips upon just earlier - to be teased upon by the curls of her still bound hair; the flicker of lilac hues towards him - a flash of levin just beneath her gaze - and in that glimmer of her eyes, would he yet feel every single aspect of him yearn.
“My love…”
Naught but a whimper to be laced upon his tongue - a mere breath hitched into the air, yet it is enough to make Kalea smile - every curl upon her frame inviting an image that was most disheveled and sweet, a tempting tilt to her lips, and with a shift of her shoulders, is all that she is laid bare .
For a display made of dreams and fantasy, as the fabric falls to pool into a silken drop of a halo, glistening and radiant - yet nowhere near as brilliant as its owner, for with a swish of her tail does Kalea slip into the water - an image made absolute beneath the moonlight, against the flurry of fireworks that burst in the evening sky, a ribbon of silver and smoke to be reflected in the waters below.
Hers is a masterpiece made of something both ravishing and delicious, open and divine -
And one he could not help but desire to pay absolute reverence to, for whatever gods would grant of him this chance.
“Raha -” she comes to murmur, her voice a measure of everything honeyed and sweet, “I see that you’d found my trail.”
A tease placed upon her lips, he was sure - for who else could he ever follow but her? His inspiration, his lodestar - draped upon by the threads of fate and destiny, and the crimson red ties that would ever bind him to her own soul,
His eyes are a glimmer of wine drenched hues pooled beneath the moonlight, and hers is a minx of a smile that aims to greet it.
“Did you not think I would?” he asks, voice low and deep, “It was not too difficult, but I would not feign to stumble upon the path you have set for me, Kali - not now or ever. I would hope I have not given you any cause to doubt?”
A question of his own, yet hers is a laughter that splits the air, trilling and melodic, one that sinks into his bones as he makes his way forward - easing towards the edge of the spring with her obi still clutched tightly along his grasp -
“I could never doubt you, Raha.” she comes to murmur, as she drifts a mite further and further away from him - for every step he takes forward, a tension to line against the brunt of his frame as she did, “Nor would I ever. I was just wondering, of course, with the heat the way it is tonight -” a flicker of her eyes backwards, the glimmer of storm flecked hues that would ever serve to drown him apart - a coursing ocean against his radiant flame -
“if there was anything,” she lightly utters, “more exhilarating - that would serve to lure you along.”
Exhilarating, she says, the word itself laced with something distinctly ambrosial - delectable as it is as it shifts in a haze upon his mind, set for something most instinctual and intense, feral and frenzied, to coalesce into a flurry against his being - to raze into his body something bristling and sharp, as he looked beyond the fever and the thrill of sensation it caused,
and found her.
The temptatious vixen, smiling and teasing, as her tail swayed delicately like a pendulum - alluring and sensual, in all the ways he knew, yet set with a blaze that he could not seem to place…
For there is something about her tonight that absolutely takes to him.
And he’s almost certain it's not nearly just the depth of his need .
There is a flare against the air today, and his eyes would narrow against it. A flash of fangs, a dash of understanding, as a line of thrill ran down his frame - to coil into the pulse of his own throbbing cock - and all of a sudden -
he can barely stand to breathe .
Such instinct, after all - would never manage to be denied .
Molten blood hues set upon her, and still - he has to ask -
“Kalea,” he murmurs, as he comes to a stop just a few mere paces away, to lick upon the line of his lips, as his hand clenched into the fabric of her obi, with a tension he could but feel - “...are you... is it — you wouldn’t happen to be -”
“In heat?” she finishes, as she turns to face him - a coy smile to curve her lips, as his gaze ran across her in immediate response - “Yes - yes, I would fear that I am. I quite fear that I have been,” she murmurs, amethyst hues a glistening storm beneath the flicker of her eyes - “perhaps, I think, since the start of the night.”
And she is all flirtation and absolutely no shame, as she feels herself shudder beneath the vivid glow to his eyes, made sharper by the way she preens before him - allowing his gaze to run across fair molded flesh, beauteous curves lit bare beneath the moonlight - a figure that shimmered against the steam that blew across the waters, against the sheen of wetness that dipped across her skin, as glorious breasts ran full and sweet, as stiff peaks ran pink upon the simmering desire of her own lust and want - to present upon him a view most exquisite -
And one of which she would absolutely desire to showcase to him, to utterly no end.
A sharp inhale, and one that he cannot help but indulge in - as the scent of her wafts the most exquisite aroma against his nose - the knowledge now of what it’d all meant; all this teasing, all this temptation - the richness of it as it’d sank into his bones, as it melded into his being -
An amusement to her own eyes, as she’d watched how he’d shuddered - all whispered delight as she’d eased against the rock, to arch her back as his eyes shifted to look upon her once more - all the better for him to gaze upon and admire her, as the effulgence of evening light lit her along her pert globes in ways that made his lips yearn -
Oh, how she would end him.
And how he would welcome it gladly.
“And so you were well aware of it,” he utters, a reconfirmation as his voice brushed something husky and deep - as she’d smiled at him - all teasing delight and smoldering want , “well aware of how you’d affect me, most certain of what I would do - should I get you alone and into my arms…”
“Not only aware , my dearest Raha,” she confirms, “but also completely and entirely hopeful for it. For how often do I get to drive you wild , my love?” a faint murmur, as hands dripped in simmering waters eased upon the curve of her breasts, to spill a swell of droplets upon her skin - tempting and seductive, as glistening crystals fell across her curves, “How keenly is it that I desire to make you yearn?”
“With every moment, as you should well by now know .” he bites out, molten hues sharpening into something bright and seething, as vivid as the shade of blood as he took a faint step closer, his breath breaking, hitching - coming apart in waves and turns, “Every moment that I am around you, that I would beg to breathe you in - that is not even a question you should ever think to consider, Kali.”
“And most certainly I do not. Yet even so…” she breathes, as she tilts her head back and leans against the edge, a moan set upon the full line of her mouth, as long ears flickered in movement - as she grazed her fingers against her skin - to trail just between her breasts and down her stomach, to the space beyond her belly - and then further below -
A most alluring motion, and one for where he can feel every measure of his self control crack - his yearning and desire multiplying by a hundred, hundred ponze, as she’d seek to edge him, to tease him - to the end of everything unknown…
“Forgive me my failings, my love, but I am just - laid so fraught by this heat,” she mewls, “and I would seek every opportunity I have at my disposal -” a flicker of her eyes, a most deliriously whispered urge -
“to have you be the one to ease it.”
And oh, as though she’d even had to ask .
For his is as a frenzy unbound as he steals at his own clothes -
A most simmering storm of which would aim to take every ilm of her apart .
“You should have said as much from the first.”
A ravenous growl, and one that serves to precede the spark that sets the inferno aflame - as an unbound fever that courses through his being, as he strips himself of his robes and his smalls and clambers into the spring in record time, to the welcome heat of the waters, to the effervescent sound of her joy - as he is left utterly unbarred and nude as he takes her, as he falls into her grasp, his hands at her hips - and his mouth slipped desperately against hers -
A relief of the most genuine kind - in the same exact way that it is a rushing blaze .
For it is a heat that now flares alive in both their bodies as he presses himself hard against her skin - a mess of lust and warmth and absolute want, as they would scramble against each other, to moan against the others lips, a tantalizing sweetness placed against his tongue - as she is all ardent softness pressed against his chest, the swell of plush globes and stiff peaks - as he pulls himself from her lips only to lift and perch her so suddenly on the edge of the spring -
A delicate yelp that spills from her mouth, yet one that pools into absolute joy and delight - as he eases himself between her thighs, only to place his mouth against her chest - against the tight, tantalizing peaks of which had so endlessly consumed him, as they swelled upon his tongue in a way that made him keen , as his dripping hand shifts to mold against the other globe - the sounds she’d made enough to spurn him onward, ever eager and delirious and wanting - always, always wanting - ever from the start.
“Kalea,” he murmurs, around the peak of her breast, as his mind was run fraught by endless passion and want - sinking into the feeling for how she’d writhed against him, as her hands tightened in his hair, around his ear, her legs and thighs tensing and pressing him ever tighter against her core - “you are - delicious, and maddening, gorgeous and so perfectly, exquisitely made ,”
“Raha,” she mewls, pressing her chest against his mouth, to watch with her own heat struck eyes as he’d ravaged her breasts so, “Twelve, that you would think to flatter me - when you are every bit as maddening and wonderful , with your lips and your tongue and every single aspect of that mouth -”
A growl pressed against her skin, as his mouth searches for her other peak - to suckle her full against his tongue, as the other palm went for the one he’d so thoroughly abused,
“I should not think it is merely my mouth that would fill you with such pleasure, my love,” he murmurs, around the full of her breast - as his eyes flash upwards to gaze upon her, as she stiffened under the heat of him, made to watch as his tongue - his deftly, talented, wonderful tongue - ran teasing circles along the swollen peak of her breast, made to break into a hapless moan, as he sunk the heat of his mouth upon her anew -
“But I would aim to please .”
A trial of which she’d set upon herself, no doubt, as Kalea scrambles to keep herself any measure of stern and in control, even as her hips grind against his - every ilm of her left to melt into a pool of such absolute, blazing need -
“Go on then,” she utters, as she spreads her legs outwards - the desire to tease dwindling in the course of such lust, “a feast designed for the both of us…” a faint whimper, as his eyes flicker a startling red before her very eyes, “I would ask that you partake.”
To partake, and to fulfill - fulfill her , as she’d wish to take the brunt of him, the whole of him - right between her thighs; until he was filling her full, and she could feel him spill down the length of her legs -
Something of which he can but take absolute delight in, as he chuckles something faint against her breast - the glide of his tongue as he gives her one last lap; the press of a chaste kiss against her swollen tit, of which only further serves to make her moan ,
“Normally I would hope to take my time with you.” he murmurs, as he pulls himself from her chest, as he places a sweet kiss upon her thighs, watching with bated breath as he hitches them just upon his shoulders, to tug her closer and closer towards the edge -
“But as you are dripping, and as you smell so absolutely mouthwatering ,” words uttered low and soft, as the headiness of her musk teases at his nose, as he manages a sharp inhale - the want to glide into his being, to settle against his skin, a most fervent headiness, of which makes his very cock throb - “I would endeavor instead, to show my gratitude for you through this.”
A kiss placed against her dripping slit, as his eyes connected with hers, and already could she feel her heart seize ,
“As the locals say,” he whispers, “thank you for the meal, my love.”
His most earnest gratitude, to be placed against the heat of her cunt -
and then he is licking a long stripe up her slit, and she is breaking apart on a gasp - “ Raha --!”
And he would not even allow her a chance to breathe .
For at the first taste of her musk on his tongue, is he left both ravenous and absolutely thirsty. Delirium run frantic with need, as he lines his mouth upon the heat of her, upon the full of her, as his mouth delved into every silken layer of her cunt, chasing along every quivering pulse, as her legs writhed upon his shoulders he mouthed against her pearl, of every given mind to relish, of every given mind to suck -
A notion of which he gives into, as her hands clasp along his hair and pull, as she shudders out his name, quivering against his lips, rutting against his tongue - broken and heady as she calls upon him for more, tensing along his mouth as he sunk his digits along her heat - two fingers to the knuckle to pump as he’d fucked her full - and she can but whimper, she can but beg -
“ Raha —”
His name - so loud and exquisite when perched upon her tongue - loud even against the fireworks still blazing against the sky, as he curls his fingers in on her, coils his tongue upon her pearl as he’d lapped upon her slick - to ease from her a most needy moan,
“Gods, please -”
A cry and a beg, as with her hands and body, she hitches her heat further against him, to press him closer, to drive her that much further to the edge, with yet everything she could ever hope to have of him - and him alone,
For his is a pleasure designed just for her, to take her apart and ruin her, to shatter her into pieces upon his lips - for where he could delight in every delicious ilm - as she felt herself coiling, that much tighter against his arms,
“ Raha— Raha, please !”
Her fingers latched into his hair, as his own clutch her back - as he hums and he moans and he sends vibrations lancing up her clit, as she breaks into fragmented pieces upon his touch - crying out his name as she shuddered and broke, in pulsing droves and stumbled heat, lost and drowned against the absoluteness of the feeling -
For which he catches with every swipe of his tongue - every drop of her slick, groaning as it’d melted upon his lips - all fragrant sweetness and divine flavor, as she shook and trembled upon his mouth - a quivering, lust strewn mess, straining for breath, drenched upon the feeling - as the flood of her heat tempered at the edge, just a bit - yet not nearly quite enough -
As her eyes opened against the pressure that’d forced them closed, to the sight of him still lapping at her slick - his eyes coasting something vivid and brilliant as his tail swayed languid and content behind him,
“Delicious,” he breathes, “absolutely delicious .”
All but a smirk upon his lips - before it is taken apart by the hands that dragged him up, by the lips that pressed against his own, as she pulls herself forward to fall into his mouth - tasting herself on his tongue as she moaned, as she yet dragged herself against him once more, the heat of her still open and wanting - still earnest and still searching -
For such greed would ever be bound upon her, even when not within the depths of this infernal heat.
Such greed would leave her ravenous, always begging for yet another taste of him - again, and again, and again -
She presses herself tight enough that she can line her heat against his hips, enough that she can but whimper, but feel - lost against every semblance of her desire, as she’d begged -
“Take me — love me, I would have it now, Raha, please - take me now ,”
Hapless and hopeless and desperate as she implores, and it is so deliriously thick - that for both their sakes, he knows he can no longer bear to tease ,
“Always, my love - as you’d wish.”
As she’d asked.
A kiss pressed against her hair - and it is so easy; so seamlessly, ridiculously easy - to slip himself inside her, as the slick of her cunt allowed her to take him with absolute ease - still pulsing something sharp and heavy as the pair of them mewled at the sensation; groaning in want as he’d throbbed - thick and full, and straining with every single, sharpened breathe, in every way of which she could utterly feel -
And it is the most exquisite feeling - he thinks, as his mind quivers in the aftermath of it - perfect. So, so perfect , even as he hitches her further along his body, to hold her to him and carry her as a portion of his mind demands that he get her to the room - to walk with her perched upon his cock as he would ease her to the other end of the spring - a gentleman, a lover, ever tender until the last -
But he only makes it as far as the edge, only makes it that far because she takes that moment to most deliberately clench - sweet and heated over his throbbing length, as she grinds herself upon him in a way designed to make him completely rut -
“Kalea!” he growls, in a tone set sharp and threatening - for even with as much care as he would ever have for her, this was something she was testing , and for what he’d feared he could not keep ,
“Raha,” she counters, lavender hues blazing bright as it’d melded into a measure of various shades, “don’t wait - take me, take me now, please -”
He could barely understand it, with the way she would make of him a mess, but still - he tries ,
“Without even a bed -”
“Don’t need a bed,” she growls out, heady against his skin as she’d breathed, as she sways her hips upon him, insistent with the way she’d sunk upon his cock, “need you . Need you taking me - loving me - here, and now, and later again, and again, and again , -” insatiable, she reads, as she pleads with her body, and with every single word,
“Please - give it to me.” she breathes, “I would wait no longer. I want to feel you. All of you - thick and dripping inside me, and taking me full ,”
No doubt of all things the heat talking, as her insistence makes the warmth between them rise - as he feels himself run asunder against it, hitching his mouth against the side of her neck, his fangs to bite down as he’d felt her stall and shiver - shuddering in the most delicious, painful thrill of it -
“Here, then.” he utters, he snarls, as he makes it only as far as the grass - as he lays her own upon their pooled robes - crimson and white to splay beneath her - as he places her down, and then she is splayed open; an image of the most divine, left before him completely and utterly bare -
“I would take you right here,” he murmurs as he gently raises her leg upon his shoulder, “I would fill you full - take you full, just as you want. No doubt the enclave will ring with the sound of your voice -”
“And they would all sooner know that I am yours .” she finishes - star flecked hues bright and luminous beneath the glow of the moon, as in the midst of their movements had the chopsticks in her hair unraveled, until it was as a spool of fine silk splayed behind her - a blanket of eternal starlight to match the skies above -
“Only yours. For it is as the truth of it,” she declares, “now and forever.”
Words designed to wring his heart dry, as though it did not already beat with the same coursing desire. As though his cock did not throb with the want, with the heat - as he hitched himself sharp between her legs and pressed his lips to her chest, to whimper out her name as she quivered against him, a rising wave against his arduous blaze -
“Kali.” he moans, all undone whispers pressed sweet against her skin, “how thoroughly you would seek to end me.”
A statement to which she laughs, a delicate, beautiful note, as she pressed her lips to his hair and smiled, “And I would do so everyday, my love. For how thoroughly you would end me too.”
The most lovely of such consent, as he hitches his mouth back onto her own - as his hips shifted just faintly out of the scope of her heat, to prompt a most delirious drag to which the both of them could not ever resist,
It is as a deluge of want set before them, and as much as Raha could ever hope to keep his head above the water - he decides, from this point on - that he would much rather go without.
“I would give this to you then,” he exhales, “the first of all your wants -” he promises, “of all your needs,” as his hips piston into hers - the beginnings of a harsh, most tempestuous rhythm,
One that he would take to, with no cease, as he’d watched, as he’d felt - the way she’d fluttered, quivered and pulsed, so fervent and heavenly around the full of his cock -
To this - he offers an oath,
To bring her apart -
“It would be my pleasure.”
The last of his words, and truly the last of her own - before he thrusts himself back into her dripping core - to the full heat of her cunt taking him deep, and it is there - right there, as she gasps his name and scrambles for his back, as she shudders against his length and sighs - that he feels his every single thought of his run utterly lost.
For all that replaces is the utter instinct of taking her apart.
He does not contemplate restraint any longer. He cannot. Not as he falls into the feeling, as he sinks and drowns beneath the want, as his hips take to a most frenzied pace upon her - his hips delving in and out as his cock dragged against her exquisite heat, a sensation overwhelming and unbound, as with every thrust brought upon her a wanton moan, a broken cry, a suffusion of absolute bliss, as the feeling ravages her with pleasure unhitched -
Thick and feral and wild, it is as a carnal, violent thing that blossoms within him - unfettered and delirious as he fucks into the heat of her body, as he ruts over her like a hapless, desperate man, as he watches with wine tinged eyes as she unfurled before him, lit against a most radiant glow as the moonlight scoped against the curves of her skin, making of her something ethereal as she surged against the delirium of it - bucking her hips and rising against him, in attempts to meet his most feverish, frenetic pace -
And yet his attention is most honed and desperate, unbridled and undone, as he palms his hand against her breast and pinches at her blossoming peak, frantic and wretched as he watched the way she writhed in answer - pushing her chest into his hands, as he fondled and massaged and teased - his name falling in wanton cries against the kiss stung swell of her lips -
And it is so seamless, the way he falls into this trance. So easy, with the way his soul would be suffused by the feeling, so as to relish and to exalt - to delve into the most alluring taste of it...
For this is how it would take him. This is how she would have him. As with thrust by earnest thrust, he would meld into her being, entwined and enlaced upon the very way her soul would call out to his - as he’d shifted his core and centered his need - to make sure she felt this. To make sure she’d have it - adore it, take everything she could ever want and more from it, the brunt of him to be claimed and spoken for - held against the heat of this want -
held against the heat of her.
For he was hers. And she was his.
And he would ever be the one to render her apart like this.
A knowledge of which he surges into, as the heat of the sensation overwhelms, as he watches the way her eyes begin to flutter, in a way that precedes her impending climax - absolute delirium, as she begins to clench over his length in fragrant, musk drawn turns - as he feels himself beginning to unravel, to run himself apart as every aspect of him uncoiled,
His hand to sneak between her thighs, as her eyes snapped open at the sensation - to meet wine drenched hues of burning crimson, as his digits teased against her pearl, and snapped her pleasure into a taut string-
“Come apart for me, Kali.” he demands, “Come apart, and let me fill you full.”
The words that serve to do their part - as the overwhelming pleasure of him rut full between her legs serves to overwhelm her; the pleasure of his hands, and the utter fullness of his body - as she feels herself fall apart, barely gasping, barely breathing - every line of her to run sharp -
And his name is every fascinating invocation as it spills upon her tongue - loud and wanton and unbound, as it laces into the air as she cries - heavenly unfettered, riotous, shattering as she clenches hard upon his cock and spills, surged full by his thickness, by his heat - weeping as he howls in answer, surging back into her and fucking her through her climax, blissful radiance as it was - drawing it out, lacing it against his being as he felt her take him full -
Before he himself is spilling, thick and heavy against her contracting heat, deep and heady as his hips slammed frantic against the pleasure - before the ache of it was too much, the throb of it too severe - until all she feels is his spend filling her full, and she is all listless, white ecstasy, shuddering in endless bliss right against his hips.
All that she knows, all that she understands - as her legs quiver around him and she mewls something euphoric - is that she is full. Utterly, gloriously, deliciously full .
And she can feel it. Every lambent ilm of it, floods of red to thrum against her own lilac aether, so thick, so deep inside.
Gods take her, but could anything else ever feel so fucking good ?
“Raha -” she breathes, as she rolls her hips against his own, as she still struggles to catch her breath - his own still spiraling wildly out of turn - as he falls against her shoulders, straining to manage his rattled being -
But she is all delicate, throaty laughter built in the aftermath, sweat soaked skin as the coolness of the summer air brushes upon their heated frames, her tail twining delicately against his, as she kissed her way across his hair, to nuzzle at his ears as she breathed -
“Thank you,” she murmurs, bright and unbound and happy , “thank you, my love - oh my gods, my Raha -” she sighs, as she pulls him up and into her arms, as they find their way to each others lips, kiss stung and ravenous, but still all too hungry, all too thirsty, for insatiability was as an art with them - and one they would ever delve into, no matter the strain,
A sensation he himself curls into, as he chuckles against her lips - an intoxicated, love drunk man, as he presses himself close - her thigh to curl up on his hip as he never brought himself apart - every ilm to press full against hers, until he could feel every refulgent heat of her, every quivered whisper - for the way she’d felt against him was unlike anything he’d ever known.
As every measure of it - no matter how many times they’d do this - would ever feel like everything brand new.
His lips drift from her mouth, to fall instead against her neck, to breathe in the smell of her effervescent joy and delight in the aftermath, filthy and lovely as it is —
“I would hope that Lady Yugiri and the others do not think to come checking up on us, with their habits of taking to the roofs, as you’d once mentioned…”
“Oh, that would certainly be a most awkward situation, wouldn’t it?” A statement of which she herself doesn’t seem too concerned for, as she merely tugs him closer to nuzzle against his hair, blissful and delighted and satisfied, as the heat of her served to have tempered - if just for a bit,
“Perhaps I should think about getting us on and into the bed,” he muses, even as every line of him hangs languid, as he draws his feet from out of the spring - the faint consideration that maybe they should wash up in there once more - before she hitches her hips against his with a huff - all the better to keep him settled deep inside, as he looked beyond her, to gaze into her eyes as she’d positively pout -
“Only if you plan on taking me again, for I have no intentions of letting you leave me empty just yet.”
A coyness, a pleasure - fragrant joy, as he smiles at her and kisses her - hard and heavy, a rush of teeth and tongue and absolute love - as he picks her up and manages somehow, to ease her upon his frame as they stumble towards the room, to where the bedspread would wait - comforting and waiting, just for them -
“I do think I would need some time to recover before I am to spill inside you again, my love - although I’m certain I would manage through many other means, if you would not be too adverse to them…”
“Oh?” she muses, sweet and delighted, already eager as she preens, “I’d certainly love to hear. How would you propose we start?” She asks, all glistening happiness as he licks a line up her throat, the sweetness of kisses and sweat on his tongue, down her neck and to the faint line of her pulse - as he manages to the bed, to lay her gently down -
“I might have some suggestions…”
For which she has an answer already,
“And I would take them all.”
And as she shatters against his fingers, against his lips - again and again through the course of the night - and then later again throughout the day -
One can but wonder perhaps if this was what the cost of love was like -
And how happily they would ever pay in full.