[ Watching her is a delight, something wonderful and intense, and his eyes drag over her features and drink her in. Feeling her mouth on his fingers is overwhelming and he is desperate to reach for her and hold her close, to devour her and use her - to be used in return, and he fights back the urge to push her down and simply have her.
They have other plans; that can come at another time. It's clear they both have plans for one another and there's no going back for that. ]
Is that what you think has happened? You have one all the work thus far? [ He scoffs a little, leaning in to kiss along her jaw even as she tries to get at his clothing. Adjusting his body, he leans back and allows her to do as she pleases, reaching for his clothing - and his lips curl into something of a pleased little smirk. ]
Do as you will. I am yours, after all.
[ It's only when she looks down at his bared chest that he remembers what she will see, and his hands reach up to take hers, drawing them to his mouth so he can press kisses against her palm. Emet-Selch shakes his head, shifting her body over his so he can grind against her body, trying to bring her back to the moment. ]
( How can she not think of it, when the scar is pain for her to see? Pahja does not resist as he takes her hands; eyes fixated on the jagged edge as he presses kisses to her palm. It's only when he moves her, when she can feel the hot, hard length of him against her that he succeeds. Which, she ruefully admits, says quite a lot about her overall sense of guilt. She has been responsible for so much pain, so much suffering--
But then again, so has he.
Pahja refocuses, the thinness of her lips vanishing, along with the weight in her eyes. He is asking her and she wants to give him all that he wishes for and more, if it is in her power to -- he will not be left wanting. She swallows thickly, nods, and squeezes his hands.
Focus.
It takes her a moment to push the thought aside, her hands finishing off his shirt and urging him to help shuck it off. )
Mmhm. ( She begins, attempting to find again the lighthearted levity of a moment ago. ) It seemed to me as if you were enjoying the show, tugging the strings to your liking.
( A playful tease; her grin reasserts itself as she rolls her hips down against him, soaking the fabric of his trousers as she does so. Let him feel her, let him ache for her as much as does him; her desire and want already reasserting themselves. She could remain like this, Pahja thinks, and come again just from the feel of him, the length of him, but that would hardly be fair.
So she slinks down off of him, pressing kisses through the center of his scar, down past his navel. Her hands busy themselves with his trousers, finally getting them undone enough to encourage him to lift his hips so that she might finally see him bare before her. )
[ If he could remove it then he would, but there are limitations even to him. A mark to the very core of his being, given to him in the depths of his true form? That is something difficult to erase, difficult to manage, and he has to muster the strength to urge her away from it. Of course she will blame herself, as is her wont, but he has no desire for her apologies nor to offer her forgiveness.
They each carry sins, and he had pushed her to the edge of her own; had been willing to sacrifice her for the greater good. It is only fitting that he should carry this burden to the end of his days, however they may be numbered.
It is not enough to distract them entirely, at least, and he watches as she shifts her body back into motion, accepts what he could never imagine that he deserves. She gives him her love, her affection, her body, and he can do no more than accept it despite his failings. The inexplicable nature of love has consumed him almost entirely.
Shifting his body, he leans in to steal more kisses from her skin, letting himself stroke her fingers along her waist, her hips, hoping to inspire fire within her once more. ]
Did my fingers not move? Did I not hold you against my breast? I aught to leave you to your own manner of pleasure next time.
[ But he won't, of course, especially not when her fingers are busy ridding him of his clothing, shifting him out of his robes and his hips lifting to lick off his trousers, shoes already long gone. ]
( His touch, gentle and warm, coupled with the press of his lips against her skin is enough to set her mind at ease -- he does not hate her, she does not hate him. Perhaps that is a failing on both their parts, but Pahja knows her mind and her soul, and they both adore and love him. The strength of it may weaken lesser men and women, but Pahja knows she can bear it, the weight of adoration etched upon the very fabric of her being. )
Aye, but you would watch all the same. Perhaps I should deny you even a touch in return; would you like that, Emet? ( A tease, as she leans back to give him the space to finish undressing. ) I would come calling your name regardless.
( Which isn't a bad thought, just one she isn't interested in indulging right now. Not when she can have his cock instead. Pahja turns her full attention to him now, one of her hands gently curling around it. It is larger than she imagined in those moments she allowed herself to do so, though she knows their size difference probably adds to it. Not that this turns her off of it, no. Rather it heightens her excitement, banishing her melancholy thoughts fully to the back of her mind.
She continues to stroke him -- not apply too much pressure, but simply exploring it by touch and feel. That her flush deepens or her eyes darken the longer she looks at it, at the promise of having it move within her, is no matter.
Nor is the way she bites her lower lip with want, the way it catches on her fang. Or the way that warmth once again pools between her legs. Lifting her gaze to him, she smiles -- wickedly sharp -- before moving down to press open-mouthed kisses along the lines of his hips, down to the base of his cock. )
Do you not think I have borne witness to enough in the world without another level of torture on top of it?
[ To be denied the chance to touch her, to be denied the ability to reach out and stoke his fingers all over her... It would be cruel indeed. It would be a divine kind of torture, something wonderful and remarkable, but not something that he wants right now. What he wants right now is to be with her, to touch her, to have her - and he will take his time with that.
Her fingers curl around him and he makes a soft noise, moaning aloud. It's impossible not to give in to her when she's stroking over him, when she's touching him with such tenderness. He had never imagined that he would ever have this with someone, yet here he is, completely at her mercy.
He's about to tear himself to pieces, his fingers reaching down and running through his hair gently, breathing out softly. ]
Pahja...
[ He can't help the way his hips jerk up just a little, moving against her mouth. ]
( To hear him beg with her name on his lips is heaven indeed, and Pahja smiles against his skin even as he jerks up towards her. It is no matter, he can move and she will adjust. All he has to do is continue this -- letting her know how much he wants her. )
Won't you let me savor you? Just a taste, Emet, that's all I want. ( The thrill of him wanting her will not abate, it likely never will, and so she presses kisses up the length of him, savoring the taste, dragging her tongue along until she can take the head of him into her mouth. It will take time and practice, Pahja knows, take all of him in her mouth -- a task for later -- but she can leave him with a promise.
She sucks once, twice, swirls her tongue around the head before pulling back with a small pop as he falls from her mouth. Emet looks positively disheveled, and Pahja knows she matches -- the flush across his cheeks and chest endearing beyond words as she watches him, her gaze full of adoration and want.
If she is to put voice to wants, her desires, there is no better chance than now. She takes his hands, presses her lips against his palms as she positions herself above him -- though really, he can have her in any way he so desires and she will never think to complain. )
Fuck me, Emet-Selch. Gods above, if you don't I will perish right here, right now.
[ She is torment and temptation all at once; he wants nothing more than to have her, to keep her, to wrap himself around her and not let go - it is an intense feeling, to need someone so desperately. It's almost frightening, just how much he longs to have her, not just in this moment but forever.
His fingers tighten, just a little, in her hair, and he leans back, eyes flickering closed. ] Just a taste, you say, and yet you torment me so. I fear I might perish here with your hand where it is. You dearest creature...
[ Lifting his hand, he pushes his hair from his face and breathes out slowly. When she begins to move up along him, when her arms reach for him and she gets herself into position all he can do is make a soft little noise, pleased and content even as he strokes his finger against her cheek, framing her features with the palm of his hand.
His other hand goes to her hip, urging her into position, lifting his hips to grind against her gently. ]
You tease me and then ask me to fuck you? Is this how you want it, like this? Or should I have you pinned to the ground first?
( The feel of him, hot and hard against her, has her moaning as he grinds up against her. Loud and shameless -- for what does she have to hide? Being ashamed that Emet-Selch is bringing her such pleasure is not something she wishes to pretend is not happening, that she wants him so badly it aches. Pahja practically pants, though she still manages a grin. )
Only the finest torment. Which--whichever will be easiest for your back. ( It's a laughing tease, said against the skin she manages to kiss until she can reach his lips, not taking him in her yet. No, she'll wait for him to decide which he rather likes for the moment. They can get to the rest later, and she's flexible. ) But this way, I'll admit, I can see you face without issue.
[ He might be embarrassed, if he had the will to care - but he does not, and he does not care, not when he has finally been given what he truly wished for. The entire gaggle of Scions might hear her moaning for him and all Emet-Selch will be capable of is preening like a kitten gifted with milk, smug and pleased in his own fortunate way.
He has always been quite smug and proud, there is no denying it.
Adjusting his body, he strokes one finger down her spine, touching against the edge of her tail before he uses the other to adjust the shape of her leg, urging her forward. ]
Take your pleasure of me, Pahja. Use me as best fit, I have no complaints to muster.
( He touches the base of her tail and she shivers, all of her shuddering with the barest of touches. A purr starts up in her chest, eyes wicked and sharp as she leans down to kiss him properly. This is for them, only them, and no one else. )
Very well then. ( She says against his lips, one hand reaching down between them to help guide him into her. For once she is glad he took his time with her, for it makes taking him in easier than it would be. Not that Pahja has a problem with that, however, considering that his size is the largest she's ever had up until that point. Her mouth parts, forehead resting against his as she takes more of him, slowly, achingly slow. ) Emet-- oh, Emet.
( She's grateful for his hands on her thighs -- it helps to keep her upright, as shaky as she is as she sinks down on him, ilm by ilm, and she never thought it could be as erotic as it is. Her eyes flutter closed, breath hitching until she succeeds at taking him to the hilt with a loud, breathless moan. Never has she felt so full, so satisfied simply from someone's cock before -- he really will ruin her, and Pahja is ecstatic from the thought of it.
It takes her a few moments to adjust to the stretch of it, and when she opens her eyes again it's to catch his gaze -- gentle and loving even as her lips turn up in a wicked smirk. )
If you are mine to command, you know what I want. Ruination, Emet-Selch. And I will see to it that I get what I desire.
( It is all the warning he gets before she moves, gasping at the way his cock feels as she raises herself halfway off of him before letting herself fall -- it forces out a moan with the strength of it. )
[ There is so much of her left to explore and that is something he makes note of - he wants to see how she is when she completely falls apart, when his fingers touch and tease her tail, her ears, her skin - everything that she has. But they've time for that, in the future; one they have decided upon together.
It's hard not to shiver as she begins to sink down onto him, letting herself rest against him as she does so. It feels remarkable, divine, almost, for a man who has little religious devotion - but he would worship her and her body were he given the chance to do so. His arms wrap around her, holding her, anchoring her, as he breathes out sharp little noises.
It is very difficult not to begin to thrust into her with all abandon, but he musters his self-control for her sake.
Emet-Selch is no small feat to take, he is aware of that, larger all the more for his true form, so it will take a moment or two. When she looks upon him, lets her eyes open, he shifts his hips just a little, what small part he can tease before she begins to move. ]
Ruination you shall have, then, my love, for all that you desire is mine to bring.
[ His hands move down to her hips, grip strong, and he helps her move, his hips lifting up to meet her and begin to thrust, giving her anything - everything - she could want. ]
( Every small noise he makes shoots another wave of hot need through her, the desire to swallow every one and keep them tucked away in her chest like some greedy hoarder hard to combat. But why should she? He is her's, all the sounds he makes are her's. Now and until they return to the Lifestream.
All she desires? Well, they'll have time for that -- she's far too busy with other things to create a list of everything she would want. The small tease has her shuddering, shivering in anticipation as she stretches around him, fits to him.
Perfect. He feels perfect; Pahja doesn't particularly believe in perfection when it comes to sex as much as she does fun and enjoyment. However, Emet makes her think she might have found something close. With every thrust he makes she can't help but moan and gasp, sighing in bliss with a particularly good thrust, tightening around his cock. )
Oh, oh Emet-- Twelve forfend, I should have told you to take me on the First if I knew how good you'd feel. How good your cock would make me feel--
( Pahja's back to babbling. Earlier though it seemed like Emet hand't minded, so Pahja lets herself bask in it without shame, pressing kisses to his face where she can between gasps and moans -- one hand going to his shoulder to steady herself as she attempts to pick up the pace, to encourage him to go faster, harder. )
We would have been watched, you know, we would have-- ( A longer, deeper moan as she adjusts the angle to have him hit deeper. ) I would have wanted them to so they knew that it was you I wanted.
[ Bliss settles through him, making his blood feel warm and his face flush with it, an intensity of it that makes him unable to do more than move with her, to let his fingers trace the shape of her body, to allow himself the pleasure and delight of feeling as though he belongs. He wishes to cherish this feeling, to allow himself the wonderful chance to be loved and wanted and pleasured all at once, the remarkable gift that only she is able to offer him.
There is more for them in the future, and he knows that - the notion that there might be more trysts like this one, that he might have her in a bed, a bath, against a wall, on top of her or below her - anything sounds like a miracle beyond reckoning.
For now, he settles with the gleeful happiness that comes with hearing her speak for him, hearing her soft noises and pleased moans, shivering with the feeling of her grinding against him and moving on his cock, stealing her pleasure and taking it for his own, his own little huffs of want blushing against her neck.
One hand moves away from her hips, allowing her movement, and sinks into her hair all the same. ]
Do you think I would have taken you? I would have been too sour, too buried in grief for any pleasure. Though, I fear this might have turned me - [ His other hand, the one not stroking through her hair, brushes against her clit gently.
Would she? Perhaps, perhaps not, but it is an interesting game to imagine.
Turning his lead to leave more kisses on her skin, her collarbone, to scrape his teeth there, he huffs a little laugh. ]
Are there any other pleasures you desire that I should be aware of?
( This is everything she could have wanted and more, the way they move together that has her shuddering, gasping. His hands and his grip are strong; she needs not doubt him in any way -- in life, in love, in this moment of pleasure. That she can finally have him, embrace him, is a gift she will not waste.
Venat's final gift for her.
Though she wonders if the woman expected this from them at all. It's a thought that Emet pushes out of her head with the way he sounds, the way he moves. Pahja allows herself to fall away from thoughts of anything but this, anything but the way Emet feels in her, moving with her. The way he sounds against her neck -- her fingers sliding through his hair to tug and encourage. )
If I had asked, if I had begged, if I had called for you while touching myself alone in my room -- would you have come? Would you have watched me fall apart for you, knowing that-- oh ( She trails off into another groan of want. ) Knowing that the Exarch was watching, always watching and wanting.
( There is no sadness at throwing G'raha under the bus now, for he has ever been transparent in his affections. But she does not want him, she has never desired him like she does Emet-Selch. Hades.
He brushes her clit and Pahja shakes, a moan falling from her lips so loud she thinks she might have scared away any bird that had wandered too close to them. His touch, his kisses, his teeth have her desperate and wanting as she moves, chasing pleasure and hoping beyond hope he can find it too.
Pahja wants to bring him to a moment where he can set his burdens aside, to think of nothing but pleasure and want. It would be her gift to him, a testament to her love. )
What, besides my want to take you transformed? To be filled completely by your cock-- ( Another gasp as she speeds up slightly, hands grasping at him almost desperately to hold him there as she continues to babble. ) You could take me on the throne of Garlemald. I could take you, bent over some desk or on a table. Would you want me dressed in silks and gold, gems and jewels, dancing for you until you cannot help but have me. Bend me over a railing and fuck me in full view of anyone who looks up, Emet, I want all of you. Every pleasure, please Emet.
[ Emet-Selch has always been strong with Aether, with power, but he feels like nothing in the midst of this, how weak and desperate he is for her above all others, above all else. The fact that she is able to destroy him from the inside out, that she has gripped his heart with all the power of her self and beyond... It is something that makes him want to completely fall apart into her.
Is that what this is, he wonders. Is this what it means to be loved, to love, to have and be wanted in return? It is something he has not have for eons, something he had thought long gone and out of reach for him now, buried with memories of friends lost to ages, to death and pain.
When Pahja looks at him, touches him, whispers his name, he feels complete for the first time in a long time. ]
I would have killed him first. [ He leans close, voice soft and low. ] Unless that was your desire. To know someone who wanted to have you could not, to tease them with the promise of something that could never be theirs as I took it? To know that I was the one bringing you pleasure and they could only wish, could only watch with a hand around themselves and nothing else -
[ He groans, low and deep in his chest as he draws her closer, letting himself touch her where he is learning she best likes, letting himself bring her pleasure once again. He wants her to fall apart for him and no one else, even if they play games - that other people might watch, see, might hear. None of that matters when she is with him, around his cock, falling apart with his pleasure alongside her own.
He cannot help a breathless laugh, however, as - ]
My cock would rip you into pieces, my love. You would never survive it.
( It is, she would tell him if she knew. How horrible it is that he has forgotten what it was like, how the thousands of years alone had stolen even this memory from him -- she will make it so that he will never forget, not in this life and not in the others they will have.
For Pahja does not intent on letting him go; they will journey to the star together, and they will be reborn into it together.
That he would kill someone for daring to watch her take her own pleasure should concern her far more than it does, but she allows herself a moment to bask in the possessiveness, as if she would want anyone else to see her like his. But he continues, voice deep and she can't help but shudder around him, one of her hands going to his shoulder to steady her as she moves against him still, picking up the pace to something faster. )
Only if it were you, Emet, only if you were the one touching me, taking me. Fucking me hard enough and often enough that there could be no mistake of who I desire, who's name I cry and moan, Emet-- Emet.
( The idea has her moaning, although there's a bubble of laughter too, warm and happy as she moves. She can feel herself tightening around him as they move, gasping with every thrust. If he is large now -- and he is -- then what he could be nearly has her giddy with the thought of it. Of more, of having the chance to know every inch of him. )
I would die happy, Hades, I would-- it would be worth it.
[ A little game, fantasies that may never come to realisation, but worth thinking on all the same. A possessive being like Emet-Selch would be loathe to share Pahja with anyone, not even the sight of her in all her bare glory, but for her? He would bend, would allow her to have his cock and another's eyes, allow her to make any kind of demand.
For her he would do anything, and perhaps it ought to frighten him, but it does not.
All it does is make him moan, his hands holding on to her as he thrusts up, grinding her on his cock and pushing as deep as he can muster, all for the want of her pleasure. His is secondary to what he feels of her, to feel her coming for him and him alone.
His lips trace her skin, against her jawline and neck, before he breathes, soft and warm against her. ]
Perhaps we shall work you to it. Tease you, play with you, with larger and larger mechanics until you are fit and ready for the weight of me.
( He talks and she moves faster against him, desperate, losing herself in the feel of him in her, a heavy weight that she takes eagerly -- how kind of him to be as large as he is so that there is no part of her he doesn't fill, pushing her to new heights of pleasure. Pahja moans with each thrust, each word of his that she takes as a promise.
His breath is warm, welcoming, as are his lips -- now that she has him she will never, ever let him go far. She loses herself in it, in his voice, at the picture he builds and the pleasure that increases with every moment. )
Yes! Yes, please, Hades -- I would be... I would be so good, I would take everything you give me until I was ready for you. Ruin me, destroy me, gods above I won't rest until you do-- ( Pahja slips a hand between them, between her folds to stroke at her clit in time with his thrusts. It has her moaning, almost mewling in pleasure, as overwhelmed by him as she is.
His bite has her shuddering, her moans loud enough to surely echo over the stone. Let them know -- she cares not, only that Emet continues to fuck her, continues to be solid and real against her skin. The ecstasy builds as she tightens around his cock, pulling him as deep as she can with one sharp snap of her hips. ) Please! Hades-- Hades!
( Pahja comes with a shout and a shudder, breaking around him as her back arches and she can think of nothing but him -- filling her, touching her, the warmth of his breath and his lips against her skin. It's overwhelming, all of it, and she gladly loses herself to it with no second thoughts. The small, present part of her keeps her moving, keeps fucking him through it so that he can lose himself in her.
When enough of her mind has returned Pahja lets her forehead fall to his shoulder, fingers running through his hair as she matches him thrust for thrust, voice falling into a whisper. )
Hades, my Hades. I do love you.
( Utterly, and if it means her downfall then so be it. )
[ It is hard to bite back the things that he wants to say to her, the whispers he would put into her ear if he had the forethought to do it - but distracted as he is, with the warmth of her, the tightness of her, the way she moves over him? It is impossible to do anything but focus on her, on her movements, on her, as she is, the wonder that is Pahja.
His soul yearns for her, wants her, and there is no denying the fulfilling sense he has of it all with her so close. He feels a contentment he has not felt in years, in eons, even, knowing that he has finally found the place he best belongs, the place he has been meant to find. For all their suffering, all their sadness, he has finally found a place to lay his heart to rest.
Lips press against her ear as he whispers to her, filthy and honest with his voice deep and hoarse. ]
We might start with fingers alone, then I can make you things in the shape of my cock, growing larger and larger until you might take me as I am, enough to tear you in two if you are not careful. I would push you to the edge of your limits, stretch you around my cock until you are completely unable to do anything except moan for me, breathless and wanton.
[ But she continues to move and he can feel it, her hand between them, her fingers moving, her body tight around him - and he is completely and utterly destroyed by it. His hands move down to hold her by her ass, to grip there as she grinds down against him.
When she comes it feels like a revelation, as though he has once again ascended, and all he can do is lean over her, pull her against his chest and grind up against her. It is hardly going to take him long to join her - and it doesn't, not when she tells him that she loves him, offering him her heart, and he makes a soft, pained little noise as he thrusts up into her again, hands gripping tight.
As he comes, shaking and shivering from the strength of it, from want and love and desire and pure joy and pleasure, he hides his face against her to disguise the tears filling his eyes. ]
( He promises her the world, to break her so exquisitely all of her burns with anticipation, with love for the man who she trusts to both break her and put her back together again. They have sought each other's ends and in doing so, become closer than anyone except for the other knows. The Scions might suspect, but what they know they will never understand.
So Pahja holds onto him as he comes, feels him shaking and breaking beneath her and keeps moving until he ceases. There is nothing but love in the way her fingers stroke through his hair, hold his face into the crook of her neck for as long as he needs -- she can feel the wetness there that has nothing to do with the sweat covering them both.
Such vulnerability strikes the heart of her, and she will not mock him for it nor call attention to it when he so desperately wishes to keep it from her. Catching her own breath, it's a few long, gentle, soft moments before she speaks, keeping him pressed to her, fingers still running through his hair. )
We can stay here as long as you'd like. I am not needed elsewhere.
( And she loves him -- where he is is where she wishes to be. )
[ Emet-Selch might not have broken so surely if it were anyone else, if he was not so vulnerable with this woman, but Pahja has developed the power to undo him completely. It makes him a little less secure in himself, a little less distant, because all he wants is nothing more than to please her, to show her the love and affection that she best deserves.
It is impossible not to break knowing that, knowing that he has found a place to belong, that when her arms wrap around her there is nothing that is going to tear them apart. They are two of the strongest beings that exist in this world, if not the strongest; no one could dare even try to slip between them.
Breathing out, he draws her closer against his body, rests against her with his eyes slipping closed, forcing himself to not break into pieces. Yes, she might have the strength to put him back together again, but ought he do that to her? It is unjust.
Unkind, even, to place such a burden on another.
Shaking his head, he tucks his face against her neck, breath coming out soft and slow. ]
( Her hands comb through his hair, keeping him there and soothing whatever plagues him, weighs him down. They might understand each other better now, after everything they've been through, the lengths of which they've gone to undo each other and save each other. If he breaks she will put him together piece by piece, no matter how difficult the task might be.
It is the least she can do for him after killing him, after inflicting the pain of knowing the future, of losing that.
Pahja sighs, happy, satisfied, and rests her head against his. )
And I, you. In this life and any others. All others.
( It may be a silly promise, but Pahja considers the evidence stacked in her favor. One day their souls will be reborn -- and they will find each other again. She's certain of it.
The chill comes as the sweat cools on her skin, but Pahja ignores it in favor for the warmth of his skin, the warmth of his embrace, and the heat of his love. It is enough to keep her here with him, and as silly as it might be, a low contented purr starts up in her chest -- tail curling around them both. )
[ Once upon a time he might have thought himself pathetic for such a thing, for allowing himself to break apart in such a way when he is quite literally still entangled with a woman, but there is no need for shame in this moment. When it comes to Pahja there is no reason to feel anything other than relieved and relaxed, because she accepts him as is, she understands him, and knows the reason for his emotion.
It is not as if he is broken in half for her; it is simply that he is, in fact, repaired. She is the one who has done the mending.
His nose nudges against hers as he leans in to steal a kiss, his smile settling on his face. ]
Such a bold promise, my love. One I shall cling to.
[ Shifting, Emet-Selch lifts his hand and snaps his fingers; a blanket seems to drop around them and he shifts, tucking it against Pahja before he smiles, fingers brushing gently through her hair. He is made for tenderness with her, he thinks, and there is no forgetting that. ]
Do all of your kind purr, or are you once again a unique creature?
( That he can smile with her -- it warms her heart just as much as the blanket does, as much as the embrace of his arms. They might not have untangled themselves, but Pahja is in no rush. They have time, as long as they need, and she would rather rest against his chest than wander Mor Dhona.
Her lips twitch up into another smile, pressing a returning kiss to the corner of his mouth. Stealing kisses like a teenager -- she would never have thought it of the both of them. )
Only some. ( At least amongst her family and the others that kept to the same area of the Shroud. ) I am one of the lucky number who was gifted with an indicator of mood beyond ears and tail.
( Her purrs grow louder still, which she is fine with for once. Let Emet know how much she enjoys being here, with him. )
[ It's hard not to laugh, to bite back the soft noises that come from his mouth as he keeps her close, tucking her against his body. He can be warm with this, at least, let her love and her affection fill up the emptiness inside of him until there's nothing left to feel sorry about.
Her nose nudges against his and he sighs softly, eyes closing and smiling fondly. ]
Another thing for me to keep an eye on in future, then.
[ This time he does laugh - because it is precious, adorable. Wonderful. ]
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They have other plans; that can come at another time. It's clear they both have plans for one another and there's no going back for that. ]
Is that what you think has happened? You have one all the work thus far? [ He scoffs a little, leaning in to kiss along her jaw even as she tries to get at his clothing. Adjusting his body, he leans back and allows her to do as she pleases, reaching for his clothing - and his lips curl into something of a pleased little smirk. ]
Do as you will. I am yours, after all.
[ It's only when she looks down at his bared chest that he remembers what she will see, and his hands reach up to take hers, drawing them to his mouth so he can press kisses against her palm. Emet-Selch shakes his head, shifting her body over his so he can grind against her body, trying to bring her back to the moment. ]
Think not of it, Pahja. Please, just... Go on.
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But then again, so has he.
Pahja refocuses, the thinness of her lips vanishing, along with the weight in her eyes. He is asking her and she wants to give him all that he wishes for and more, if it is in her power to -- he will not be left wanting. She swallows thickly, nods, and squeezes his hands.
Focus.
It takes her a moment to push the thought aside, her hands finishing off his shirt and urging him to help shuck it off. )
Mmhm. ( She begins, attempting to find again the lighthearted levity of a moment ago. ) It seemed to me as if you were enjoying the show, tugging the strings to your liking.
( A playful tease; her grin reasserts itself as she rolls her hips down against him, soaking the fabric of his trousers as she does so. Let him feel her, let him ache for her as much as does him; her desire and want already reasserting themselves. She could remain like this, Pahja thinks, and come again just from the feel of him, the length of him, but that would hardly be fair.
So she slinks down off of him, pressing kisses through the center of his scar, down past his navel. Her hands busy themselves with his trousers, finally getting them undone enough to encourage him to lift his hips so that she might finally see him bare before her. )
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They each carry sins, and he had pushed her to the edge of her own; had been willing to sacrifice her for the greater good. It is only fitting that he should carry this burden to the end of his days, however they may be numbered.
It is not enough to distract them entirely, at least, and he watches as she shifts her body back into motion, accepts what he could never imagine that he deserves. She gives him her love, her affection, her body, and he can do no more than accept it despite his failings. The inexplicable nature of love has consumed him almost entirely.
Shifting his body, he leans in to steal more kisses from her skin, letting himself stroke her fingers along her waist, her hips, hoping to inspire fire within her once more. ]
Did my fingers not move? Did I not hold you against my breast? I aught to leave you to your own manner of pleasure next time.
[ But he won't, of course, especially not when her fingers are busy ridding him of his clothing, shifting him out of his robes and his hips lifting to lick off his trousers, shoes already long gone. ]
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Aye, but you would watch all the same. Perhaps I should deny you even a touch in return; would you like that, Emet? ( A tease, as she leans back to give him the space to finish undressing. ) I would come calling your name regardless.
( Which isn't a bad thought, just one she isn't interested in indulging right now. Not when she can have his cock instead. Pahja turns her full attention to him now, one of her hands gently curling around it. It is larger than she imagined in those moments she allowed herself to do so, though she knows their size difference probably adds to it. Not that this turns her off of it, no. Rather it heightens her excitement, banishing her melancholy thoughts fully to the back of her mind.
She continues to stroke him -- not apply too much pressure, but simply exploring it by touch and feel. That her flush deepens or her eyes darken the longer she looks at it, at the promise of having it move within her, is no matter.
Nor is the way she bites her lower lip with want, the way it catches on her fang. Or the way that warmth once again pools between her legs. Lifting her gaze to him, she smiles -- wickedly sharp -- before moving down to press open-mouthed kisses along the lines of his hips, down to the base of his cock. )
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[ To be denied the chance to touch her, to be denied the ability to reach out and stoke his fingers all over her... It would be cruel indeed. It would be a divine kind of torture, something wonderful and remarkable, but not something that he wants right now. What he wants right now is to be with her, to touch her, to have her - and he will take his time with that.
Her fingers curl around him and he makes a soft noise, moaning aloud. It's impossible not to give in to her when she's stroking over him, when she's touching him with such tenderness. He had never imagined that he would ever have this with someone, yet here he is, completely at her mercy.
He's about to tear himself to pieces, his fingers reaching down and running through his hair gently, breathing out softly. ]
Pahja...
[ He can't help the way his hips jerk up just a little, moving against her mouth. ]
Please...
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Won't you let me savor you? Just a taste, Emet, that's all I want. ( The thrill of him wanting her will not abate, it likely never will, and so she presses kisses up the length of him, savoring the taste, dragging her tongue along until she can take the head of him into her mouth. It will take time and practice, Pahja knows, take all of him in her mouth -- a task for later -- but she can leave him with a promise.
She sucks once, twice, swirls her tongue around the head before pulling back with a small pop as he falls from her mouth. Emet looks positively disheveled, and Pahja knows she matches -- the flush across his cheeks and chest endearing beyond words as she watches him, her gaze full of adoration and want.
If she is to put voice to wants, her desires, there is no better chance than now. She takes his hands, presses her lips against his palms as she positions herself above him -- though really, he can have her in any way he so desires and she will never think to complain. )
Fuck me, Emet-Selch. Gods above, if you don't I will perish right here, right now.
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His fingers tighten, just a little, in her hair, and he leans back, eyes flickering closed. ] Just a taste, you say, and yet you torment me so. I fear I might perish here with your hand where it is. You dearest creature...
[ Lifting his hand, he pushes his hair from his face and breathes out slowly. When she begins to move up along him, when her arms reach for him and she gets herself into position all he can do is make a soft little noise, pleased and content even as he strokes his finger against her cheek, framing her features with the palm of his hand.
His other hand goes to her hip, urging her into position, lifting his hips to grind against her gently. ]
You tease me and then ask me to fuck you? Is this how you want it, like this? Or should I have you pinned to the ground first?
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Only the finest torment. Which--whichever will be easiest for your back. ( It's a laughing tease, said against the skin she manages to kiss until she can reach his lips, not taking him in her yet. No, she'll wait for him to decide which he rather likes for the moment. They can get to the rest later, and she's flexible. ) But this way, I'll admit, I can see you face without issue.
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He has always been quite smug and proud, there is no denying it.
Adjusting his body, he strokes one finger down her spine, touching against the edge of her tail before he uses the other to adjust the shape of her leg, urging her forward. ]
Take your pleasure of me, Pahja. Use me as best fit, I have no complaints to muster.
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Very well then. ( She says against his lips, one hand reaching down between them to help guide him into her. For once she is glad he took his time with her, for it makes taking him in easier than it would be. Not that Pahja has a problem with that, however, considering that his size is the largest she's ever had up until that point. Her mouth parts, forehead resting against his as she takes more of him, slowly, achingly slow. ) Emet-- oh, Emet.
( She's grateful for his hands on her thighs -- it helps to keep her upright, as shaky as she is as she sinks down on him, ilm by ilm, and she never thought it could be as erotic as it is. Her eyes flutter closed, breath hitching until she succeeds at taking him to the hilt with a loud, breathless moan. Never has she felt so full, so satisfied simply from someone's cock before -- he really will ruin her, and Pahja is ecstatic from the thought of it.
It takes her a few moments to adjust to the stretch of it, and when she opens her eyes again it's to catch his gaze -- gentle and loving even as her lips turn up in a wicked smirk. )
If you are mine to command, you know what I want. Ruination, Emet-Selch. And I will see to it that I get what I desire.
( It is all the warning he gets before she moves, gasping at the way his cock feels as she raises herself halfway off of him before letting herself fall -- it forces out a moan with the strength of it. )
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It's hard not to shiver as she begins to sink down onto him, letting herself rest against him as she does so. It feels remarkable, divine, almost, for a man who has little religious devotion - but he would worship her and her body were he given the chance to do so. His arms wrap around her, holding her, anchoring her, as he breathes out sharp little noises.
It is very difficult not to begin to thrust into her with all abandon, but he musters his self-control for her sake.
Emet-Selch is no small feat to take, he is aware of that, larger all the more for his true form, so it will take a moment or two. When she looks upon him, lets her eyes open, he shifts his hips just a little, what small part he can tease before she begins to move. ]
Ruination you shall have, then, my love, for all that you desire is mine to bring.
[ His hands move down to her hips, grip strong, and he helps her move, his hips lifting up to meet her and begin to thrust, giving her anything - everything - she could want. ]
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All she desires? Well, they'll have time for that -- she's far too busy with other things to create a list of everything she would want. The small tease has her shuddering, shivering in anticipation as she stretches around him, fits to him.
Perfect. He feels perfect; Pahja doesn't particularly believe in perfection when it comes to sex as much as she does fun and enjoyment. However, Emet makes her think she might have found something close. With every thrust he makes she can't help but moan and gasp, sighing in bliss with a particularly good thrust, tightening around his cock. )
Oh, oh Emet-- Twelve forfend, I should have told you to take me on the First if I knew how good you'd feel. How good your cock would make me feel--
( Pahja's back to babbling. Earlier though it seemed like Emet hand't minded, so Pahja lets herself bask in it without shame, pressing kisses to his face where she can between gasps and moans -- one hand going to his shoulder to steady herself as she attempts to pick up the pace, to encourage him to go faster, harder. )
We would have been watched, you know, we would have-- ( A longer, deeper moan as she adjusts the angle to have him hit deeper. ) I would have wanted them to so they knew that it was you I wanted.
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There is more for them in the future, and he knows that - the notion that there might be more trysts like this one, that he might have her in a bed, a bath, against a wall, on top of her or below her - anything sounds like a miracle beyond reckoning.
For now, he settles with the gleeful happiness that comes with hearing her speak for him, hearing her soft noises and pleased moans, shivering with the feeling of her grinding against him and moving on his cock, stealing her pleasure and taking it for his own, his own little huffs of want blushing against her neck.
One hand moves away from her hips, allowing her movement, and sinks into her hair all the same. ]
Do you think I would have taken you? I would have been too sour, too buried in grief for any pleasure. Though, I fear this might have turned me - [ His other hand, the one not stroking through her hair, brushes against her clit gently.
Would she? Perhaps, perhaps not, but it is an interesting game to imagine.
Turning his lead to leave more kisses on her skin, her collarbone, to scrape his teeth there, he huffs a little laugh. ]
Are there any other pleasures you desire that I should be aware of?
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Venat's final gift for her.
Though she wonders if the woman expected this from them at all. It's a thought that Emet pushes out of her head with the way he sounds, the way he moves. Pahja allows herself to fall away from thoughts of anything but this, anything but the way Emet feels in her, moving with her. The way he sounds against her neck -- her fingers sliding through his hair to tug and encourage. )
If I had asked, if I had begged, if I had called for you while touching myself alone in my room -- would you have come? Would you have watched me fall apart for you, knowing that-- oh ( She trails off into another groan of want. ) Knowing that the Exarch was watching, always watching and wanting.
( There is no sadness at throwing G'raha under the bus now, for he has ever been transparent in his affections. But she does not want him, she has never desired him like she does Emet-Selch. Hades.
He brushes her clit and Pahja shakes, a moan falling from her lips so loud she thinks she might have scared away any bird that had wandered too close to them. His touch, his kisses, his teeth have her desperate and wanting as she moves, chasing pleasure and hoping beyond hope he can find it too.
Pahja wants to bring him to a moment where he can set his burdens aside, to think of nothing but pleasure and want. It would be her gift to him, a testament to her love. )
What, besides my want to take you transformed? To be filled completely by your cock-- ( Another gasp as she speeds up slightly, hands grasping at him almost desperately to hold him there as she continues to babble. ) You could take me on the throne of Garlemald. I could take you, bent over some desk or on a table. Would you want me dressed in silks and gold, gems and jewels, dancing for you until you cannot help but have me. Bend me over a railing and fuck me in full view of anyone who looks up, Emet, I want all of you. Every pleasure, please Emet.
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Is that what this is, he wonders. Is this what it means to be loved, to love, to have and be wanted in return? It is something he has not have for eons, something he had thought long gone and out of reach for him now, buried with memories of friends lost to ages, to death and pain.
When Pahja looks at him, touches him, whispers his name, he feels complete for the first time in a long time. ]
I would have killed him first. [ He leans close, voice soft and low. ] Unless that was your desire. To know someone who wanted to have you could not, to tease them with the promise of something that could never be theirs as I took it? To know that I was the one bringing you pleasure and they could only wish, could only watch with a hand around themselves and nothing else -
[ He groans, low and deep in his chest as he draws her closer, letting himself touch her where he is learning she best likes, letting himself bring her pleasure once again. He wants her to fall apart for him and no one else, even if they play games - that other people might watch, see, might hear. None of that matters when she is with him, around his cock, falling apart with his pleasure alongside her own.
He cannot help a breathless laugh, however, as - ]
My cock would rip you into pieces, my love. You would never survive it.
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For Pahja does not intent on letting him go; they will journey to the star together, and they will be reborn into it together.
That he would kill someone for daring to watch her take her own pleasure should concern her far more than it does, but she allows herself a moment to bask in the possessiveness, as if she would want anyone else to see her like his. But he continues, voice deep and she can't help but shudder around him, one of her hands going to his shoulder to steady her as she moves against him still, picking up the pace to something faster. )
Only if it were you, Emet, only if you were the one touching me, taking me. Fucking me hard enough and often enough that there could be no mistake of who I desire, who's name I cry and moan, Emet-- Emet.
( The idea has her moaning, although there's a bubble of laughter too, warm and happy as she moves. She can feel herself tightening around him as they move, gasping with every thrust. If he is large now -- and he is -- then what he could be nearly has her giddy with the thought of it. Of more, of having the chance to know every inch of him. )
I would die happy, Hades, I would-- it would be worth it.
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For her he would do anything, and perhaps it ought to frighten him, but it does not.
All it does is make him moan, his hands holding on to her as he thrusts up, grinding her on his cock and pushing as deep as he can muster, all for the want of her pleasure. His is secondary to what he feels of her, to feel her coming for him and him alone.
His lips trace her skin, against her jawline and neck, before he breathes, soft and warm against her. ]
Perhaps we shall work you to it. Tease you, play with you, with larger and larger mechanics until you are fit and ready for the weight of me.
[ He bites, gently, then harder, at her skin. ]
I will ruin you.
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His breath is warm, welcoming, as are his lips -- now that she has him she will never, ever let him go far. She loses herself in it, in his voice, at the picture he builds and the pleasure that increases with every moment. )
Yes! Yes, please, Hades -- I would be... I would be so good, I would take everything you give me until I was ready for you. Ruin me, destroy me, gods above I won't rest until you do-- ( Pahja slips a hand between them, between her folds to stroke at her clit in time with his thrusts. It has her moaning, almost mewling in pleasure, as overwhelmed by him as she is.
His bite has her shuddering, her moans loud enough to surely echo over the stone. Let them know -- she cares not, only that Emet continues to fuck her, continues to be solid and real against her skin. The ecstasy builds as she tightens around his cock, pulling him as deep as she can with one sharp snap of her hips. ) Please! Hades-- Hades!
( Pahja comes with a shout and a shudder, breaking around him as her back arches and she can think of nothing but him -- filling her, touching her, the warmth of his breath and his lips against her skin. It's overwhelming, all of it, and she gladly loses herself to it with no second thoughts. The small, present part of her keeps her moving, keeps fucking him through it so that he can lose himself in her.
When enough of her mind has returned Pahja lets her forehead fall to his shoulder, fingers running through his hair as she matches him thrust for thrust, voice falling into a whisper. )
Hades, my Hades. I do love you.
( Utterly, and if it means her downfall then so be it. )
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His soul yearns for her, wants her, and there is no denying the fulfilling sense he has of it all with her so close. He feels a contentment he has not felt in years, in eons, even, knowing that he has finally found the place he best belongs, the place he has been meant to find. For all their suffering, all their sadness, he has finally found a place to lay his heart to rest.
Lips press against her ear as he whispers to her, filthy and honest with his voice deep and hoarse. ]
We might start with fingers alone, then I can make you things in the shape of my cock, growing larger and larger until you might take me as I am, enough to tear you in two if you are not careful. I would push you to the edge of your limits, stretch you around my cock until you are completely unable to do anything except moan for me, breathless and wanton.
[ But she continues to move and he can feel it, her hand between them, her fingers moving, her body tight around him - and he is completely and utterly destroyed by it. His hands move down to hold her by her ass, to grip there as she grinds down against him.
When she comes it feels like a revelation, as though he has once again ascended, and all he can do is lean over her, pull her against his chest and grind up against her. It is hardly going to take him long to join her - and it doesn't, not when she tells him that she loves him, offering him her heart, and he makes a soft, pained little noise as he thrusts up into her again, hands gripping tight.
As he comes, shaking and shivering from the strength of it, from want and love and desire and pure joy and pleasure, he hides his face against her to disguise the tears filling his eyes. ]
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So Pahja holds onto him as he comes, feels him shaking and breaking beneath her and keeps moving until he ceases. There is nothing but love in the way her fingers stroke through his hair, hold his face into the crook of her neck for as long as he needs -- she can feel the wetness there that has nothing to do with the sweat covering them both.
Such vulnerability strikes the heart of her, and she will not mock him for it nor call attention to it when he so desperately wishes to keep it from her. Catching her own breath, it's a few long, gentle, soft moments before she speaks, keeping him pressed to her, fingers still running through his hair. )
We can stay here as long as you'd like. I am not needed elsewhere.
( And she loves him -- where he is is where she wishes to be. )
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It is impossible not to break knowing that, knowing that he has found a place to belong, that when her arms wrap around her there is nothing that is going to tear them apart. They are two of the strongest beings that exist in this world, if not the strongest; no one could dare even try to slip between them.
Breathing out, he draws her closer against his body, rests against her with his eyes slipping closed, forcing himself to not break into pieces. Yes, she might have the strength to put him back together again, but ought he do that to her? It is unjust.
Unkind, even, to place such a burden on another.
Shaking his head, he tucks his face against her neck, breath coming out soft and slow. ]
I love you.
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It is the least she can do for him after killing him, after inflicting the pain of knowing the future, of losing that.
Pahja sighs, happy, satisfied, and rests her head against his. )
And I, you. In this life and any others. All others.
( It may be a silly promise, but Pahja considers the evidence stacked in her favor. One day their souls will be reborn -- and they will find each other again. She's certain of it.
The chill comes as the sweat cools on her skin, but Pahja ignores it in favor for the warmth of his skin, the warmth of his embrace, and the heat of his love. It is enough to keep her here with him, and as silly as it might be, a low contented purr starts up in her chest -- tail curling around them both. )
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It is not as if he is broken in half for her; it is simply that he is, in fact, repaired. She is the one who has done the mending.
His nose nudges against hers as he leans in to steal a kiss, his smile settling on his face. ]
Such a bold promise, my love. One I shall cling to.
[ Shifting, Emet-Selch lifts his hand and snaps his fingers; a blanket seems to drop around them and he shifts, tucking it against Pahja before he smiles, fingers brushing gently through her hair. He is made for tenderness with her, he thinks, and there is no forgetting that. ]
Do all of your kind purr, or are you once again a unique creature?
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Her lips twitch up into another smile, pressing a returning kiss to the corner of his mouth. Stealing kisses like a teenager -- she would never have thought it of the both of them. )
Only some. ( At least amongst her family and the others that kept to the same area of the Shroud. ) I am one of the lucky number who was gifted with an indicator of mood beyond ears and tail.
( Her purrs grow louder still, which she is fine with for once. Let Emet know how much she enjoys being here, with him. )
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Her nose nudges against his and he sighs softly, eyes closing and smiling fondly. ]
Another thing for me to keep an eye on in future, then.
[ This time he does laugh - because it is precious, adorable. Wonderful. ]
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