I am not rushing. I'm perfectly capable of knowing my own limitations.
[ The fact that they have just sat for hours talking means he has learned of her - and her kisses are so soft and gentle. He wants more of that - more of what she is offering, even if it is completely foreign to him. He's still blushing, but there's something more tender about it now.
He wants to be loved; is that such a cruelty? When all he knows now is that the world is going to end?
( That has Pahja's eyes widening in delight, her hands going right to it in order to inspect its size more in-depth. That she is doing so on his lap is no matter. )
Well! That is astonishingly good news for my fantasies whenever I return home and have a moment of time to myself. I only wish we had time enough for me to experience it first hand.
( She doesn't hold it against him though, and a few more kisses has her grinning even wider. He is... unmistakably charming like this, and she's delighted at the chance to have him. Which she should get to, easily pulling off her robe to throw it off to the side -- they'll have to get him naked as well, but that means she would have to get off his lap; she's not so keen on that at the moment. )
Where would you like me to have you? On the bed? Across the table? I don't think I could support your weight for fucking you against the wall face to face and I'd need a stool otherwise, but we can adapt!
And just how many of us were you planning on experiencing while you were here with us?
[ Not that he is particularly jealous or anything, but it's clear he mislikes the idea of her having any kind of experience with anyone else. There's a slight curve to his lips, almost a rather upset sneer, but he gets himself under control very quickly.
It helps that she leans in to give him more kisses, that he soothes some of his battered ego by letting him lean in and press their mouths together again. It's tender, a little more gentle, something soft, exploratory more than anything else.
She is so very carefree about the whole matter and that makes him cough, looking around the room. ]
The bed will likely suit, I think, though...
[ She will have to move - but he can't have that. He shifts, rising to his feet and bringing her with him, one hand moving swiftly to hold her by her ass. ]
Are you jealous, Emet? ( She sounds absolutely delighted. ) No one, no one but you, you silly man.
( Just so he knows. The softness in his kiss practically melts her with genuine kindness -- it's what she wishes they could have had, glad that she could give it to him now in this hour. She doesn't expect him to pick her up, however, and her yelp of surprise is mostly muffled by his mouth. )
Oh!
( Pahja dissolves into surprised laughter, throwing her arms around his neck to keep herself in his arms. )
[ Which means he absolutely is, but he does not want to talk about it one little bit. The idea of being jealous over a person he barely knows, one who means vaguely little to him beyond being the harbinger of doom? He has to smother those feelings.
It's easier to focus on walking her over to his bed, a rather large stretch of a thing, and settling himself down with her in his lap once again. It's easier to tilt his head up, to leave a kiss on her jaw, on her neck, on her shoulder, to hum against her skin.
( She laughs at his denial, bubbling up from her chest in a way that clearly indicates her delight and not laughing at his expense. The kisses along her skin are good, and he gets a sharp, small gasp at that with every one he places. Encouragement never harmed anyone.
Looking down at him, Pahja brushes his hair away from his face, placing a kiss of her own on his forehead. )
Hmm. We could make out for a while more, I think, or you could strip.
[ He says it almost incredulously, as if the idea of taking his robes off is completely foreign - which is is. The very fact that he has dared to even task his mask of before her says a great deal about his affection for Azem, and he forces himself to settle down and not think too hard on it.
Shaking his head, he waves his hand and clicks his fingers - and his robes are no more, disappeared into nothingness. ]
( And then he's just naked, and Pahja can't help but stare, a little openmouthed, at all of him. She doesn't know what she expected -- the Emet she knows is old, worn down by loss and the weight on his shoulders bending them still -- but not unattractive. Yet this, seeing him in his youth, is an entirely different thing.
So she's staring. For a long moment before coughing slightly and coming back to herself. )
Very. ( Which means she'll run her hands over his shoulders, down his chest to playfully tweak a nipple -- all while focusing on kissing him as deeply as he will allow. In between kisses, however, she finally finds the words to continue. ) Tell me when you want me. We'll go from there.
( She really should finish stripping, and it takes her a moment of repositioning herself to shed her pants and shoes, but then she does, and slides her hand down between them to drag the tips of her claw-like nails across the soft skin of his cock. )
[ There's no denying the smug pleasure he gets at the way she looks at him, drinking him in and clearly wanting more. Bodies are simply that - bodies, something to be draped in robes and hidden behind masks. For her to be so gleeful upon looking at him makes him pleased, arrogantly so. He has no reason not to be.
Is he not a handsome man? It must be so.
Leaning back a little, he watches her with a raised eyebrow, allowing her to explore as she pleases before she tweaks at him - and then he returns to his usual scowl, giving her a sour little look. ]
When I want you? I believe you have a little work to do first -
[ He's cut off by her hand, hissing a little and shifting his hips. ]
( Smug bastard. Pahja's free hand clamps down on his hip, holding him to the bed with a surprising amount of strength from someone of her stature. He's not allowed to move unless she wants him to, and she meets his scowl with a satisfied smirk of her own. )
Is that so, Emet-Selch? ( Her touch becomes more direct, wrapping her hand around his cock fully to stroke him once, palm worn and rough against the soft skin. ) Then I take back my generous actions of earlier -- I want you to beg for me to take you.
( He might be inexperienced, but Pahja hedges her bets as to what he might like and shifts so that she is on her knees above him. One of her knees goes to his leg to keep his hips pinned to the bed while her hand works over him, and the other goes to tangle in the hair at the back of his head, pulling to direct his gaze up at her.
There is still kindness in her eyes, however, a lurking understanding that if this isn't what he wants he need only tell her and she will cease. )
[ She is strong and that is attractive enough; Emet-Selch has no room to complain when it is something he finds desirable, something he wants without the ability to question it. Who would not be attracted to strength, be it physical, magical or mental? The fact that she could pin him and use him - well, those are thoughts for later.
His head still tilts and nose still wrinkles. ]
I am not one for begging, no matter what you might offer.
[ True enough that her hand on his cock feels remarkable; true enough that he wishes for more of it, to allow himself to fully succumb to what she is giving him. His breathing shakes a little and his eyes flicker, feeling flushed from the warmth of pleasure.
He is not against the idea; stubbornness simply wins out. ]
( Terrible, stubborn man, Pahja thinks, although it is laced with fondness. Leaning down, she lets her lips brush over his -- refusing to kiss him until he asks for it. )
Aye, I am well aware of that. Which is precisely why I want to see your pretty lips form the words "Pahja, please".
( She drags out the whine, catching his lower lip between her teeth and dragging it out after, in emphasis. He might protest that they don't have long, but Pahja is confident enough that she can make him beg for her in that time. After all, he seems wont to put up rough front for a softer, truer self.
Using it against him in this manner is probably unwise, all told, but if she has one shot at this she's simply going to use all that she has at her disposal. Which means continuing to stroke him, occasionally letting the tips of her nails scrape over him. Demanding, but at a slow and steady pace without much in the way of urgency.
[ His glare settles in place then, his head tilting back; he does not lean towards her kiss. ]
Oh, is this some fair trade for you having to make requests from me before? Poor form for a supposed hero, stealing into my rooms at night and making demands of my virtue.
[ There is a determination to him that is betrayed only by the way his cock twitches as he looks at her, a desire that he is fighting with - his own nature versus his wants, the knowledge that he might gain an experience born of nothing short of pure pleasure. The idea of having to lay low his pride, however, is not something that he is quite able to suppress.
He could simply magick her the way he wants, have her on her back, clothes removed, but it seems such a barbaric thing to do when he is sure he might wait her out. She wants as much as he does, after all, and he has lived for eons. He can live longer.
( Pahja snorts at that, lips twitching up in an amused smile, fondness breaking through at his sarcasm. )
Yes, you've caught me. No hero am I, but a woman bent upon finding those most in need of a lesson of humility. And you, Hades, are the most in need in all of Elpis.
( He is right about one thing: he has lived for eons. But as someone unexperienced -- by choice, yes -- but inexperienced all the same. Pahja thinks that gives her an advantage. And if he wishes to have her rather than the other way around, well. She won't complain so long as he is the one who breaks first.
But she can feel that he is not unmoved. That only encourages her, and she leans forward to bite and tug at his earlobe if he will let her get close. Another tease as her grip on his cock tightens, dragging her hand up and down slightly faster but still slow, achingly so. )
[ His eyes narrow, just a little, a sour little thing as he tries to find words. ]
There is no need for humility when I recognise my talents as they are. It would be foolish to do anything else.
[ But, oh, she is quite the tease, a temptation he can barely resist, and while this all seems to be moving at the speed of creation itself he cannot find a way to shrug off his want to force himself to be tight and controlled. It is not simply a desire to make her work for it - it is knowledge that he does not want to appear weak.
Especially in something so new.
Still, his hips jerk, just a little, his breathing hitching, just enough that it's a sign of weakness. ]
( How can he keep his face like that? Pahja laughs -- a small, soft thing, and gives into the urge to kiss the scowl he's schooled his face into. It's charming, along with the creases between his brows, which she also kisses. )
No, no. You would not be Emet-Selch if you did. ( That she will give him as she continues to drag her hand up and down him, squeezing now here and there -- uneven. She can sense his weakness, the fact he is not as unaffected as he would wish to convince her. ) For I have ever had to exert myself to prove myself to you. But I won against your vaunted might then, and will do so now.
( A breath, and then she leans in further, wondering if she can work herself to the heart of the matter. )
It isn't weakness, to give into what you want. Oh, Emet, you never have to worry about that. Not with me, I promise.
[ Centuries of practice at sourness and moulding his face to be settled into one clear expression has absolutely coloured him in this moment, even though he might feel a little - a lot - on edge. ]
Certainly not. [ He is shaking, just a little, some movement to his shoulders, his eyes flickering just so - he's not entirely unaffected by her touches and the softness of her voice. He looks at her, eyes wide and wanting, until he blinks it away.
Swallowing, he leans back, but there's not much space for it. ]
Did I say it was weakness? It is determination, dogged determination.
( Ah. There it is, and Pahja feels only joy at the small victory she's won from him. He may not beg like she wants him to, but even getting him to let down his façade for a moment is worth it, and she smiles against his lips before kissing him again -- her hand coming to curl in his hair to keep his head where she wants it. )
So it is. But I want to have you, Emet. And this-- ( She laughs, soft and kind, as she rubs her thumb over the head of his cock, pressing another kiss to the corner of his lips. ) Makes me think you're not uninterested. Let me make you feel good, Hades.
[ There is a clear desperation for him, one that he is forcibly swallows back. For all that he might see himself as someone guarded and above it all, there is no denying the fact that at heart he is just a man - a man that happens to have a hand wrapped around his cock.
It will undo him, eventually.
Lifting his head, he tilts a little closer towards her. ]
( Pahja can't help it, she laughs. It's a breathy thing, soft and achingly fond. How Emet-Selch of him. She kisses him, deep and wanting with a soft tug of his lips between her teeth. If he's going to be difficult she'll at least give it her all. )
Oh Honorable Emet-Selch, please let me fuck you.
( Her hand picks up its speed, squeezing tighter as she roughly drags it down his cock. If it is by her hand that she will undo him then she will not give him anything less than her all.
How this will all play out, what it means for the future she does not yet know, but-- but she will have this, at least. She will have him for one bright moment.
It is the biggest, smallest gift anyone could have given her. )
[ As if he is going to do anything else, be anything else - Hades is whom he is, and the dangerous side of him demands that she submit, that he somehow keeps some measure of control in a world where he doesn't. It's not as if he has the wisdom nor experience on this front.
He cannot help laughing aloud all the same. ]
Since you asked so gently, so kindly.
[ He leans in and kisses her, hard and pressing, teeth scraping over hers before he leans back, letting his fingers grab at her clothing.
Emet-Selch, Hades, is nervous, but he refuses to allow it. ]
( The kiss makes her purr with how direct it is, how rough -- she wants to be kind to him, but there is a part of her that does want to see how far they can push each other in the pursuit of pleasure. Well, that will have to remain a topic for revisiting later with her hand.
For now she smiles, and curls a hand around one of his. )
What's this? The great Emet-Selch will simply lie there and let me ravish him? The first lesson anyone must learn during sex is that it is a give and take. So-- unrobe me as you please.
( He may be nervous underneath all that bluster, but Pahja intends on doing this right. A pause, however, as she leans forward to capture his lips in another kiss. )
And bring the items you conjured over here, won't you? I find myself unwilling to leave your lap for the time being.
You seemed content with your control of the situation. Aught I reckon with that, little hero?
[ It is still odd, this sudden lunge to intimacy, but she feels so familiar, so close to his own heart already that perhaps this was inevitable. His fingers begin to move up her body, to touch against her sides, to rest tentatively - and then with more confidence - on the shape of her waist as he leans up.
Hades, as he is, feels much larger than she already, but a flick of his wrist has her tools re-joining them in the comfort of his bedding, his lips curling into something of a smirk.
This is easier, at least; he can peel clothing from a body. ]
Since you asked so nicely.
[ He begins with what he can, starting to push away fabric, to let his fingers trace and explore and find the warmth of her skin, eyes widening just a little. ]
Oh, my dearest Emet-Selch. ( Pahja counters, laughing. It isn't unkind but unbearably, unspeakably fond. ) If I asked you to have me up against the wall until I couldn't walk, you wouldn't know where to begin. Ask me again in twelve thousand years and I promise you can have your way with me.
( He won't. Or maybe he will, to some alternate version of herself who will reap the rewards of Pahja and Emet's overwhelming sentementality. She can only hope that someone will. But the brush of his fingers as he bears skin has her gasping, shivering in the wake of his touch.
She shrugs off her layers where she can, shedding her top with relative ease once his fingers figure out the straps and ties. At that, Pahja gently takes one of his hands, encouraging him to touch her breasts, run his fingers over her hardening nipples. )
I would certainly know where to begin. I have beed well-educated, I can assure you of that, and I have yet to fail at anything I have put into practice. [ Which means, of course, he would put in a rather good attempt at doing whatever she asked of him - but perhaps she is right in that it might not be what she best wishes right now.
If what she says is correct, however, then perhaps he will remind her of this moment in several thousand years.
His fingers move to touch her breasts, to let a thumb flick over a nipple, and he tries to resist the wide-eyed awe he feels when he looks at her. His other hand comes to join it, stroking over the other one before it sinks lower, letting his other hand slip towards the gap between her legs, to let himself touch, to try and give her whatever she desires.
Emet-Selch wants to please her, more than anything. ]
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[ The fact that they have just sat for hours talking means he has learned of her - and her kisses are so soft and gentle. He wants more of that - more of what she is offering, even if it is completely foreign to him. He's still blushing, but there's something more tender about it now.
He wants to be loved; is that such a cruelty? When all he knows now is that the world is going to end?
His eyes close before he laughs softly. ]
I assure you, that is the average for us.
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Well! That is astonishingly good news for my fantasies whenever I return home and have a moment of time to myself. I only wish we had time enough for me to experience it first hand.
( She doesn't hold it against him though, and a few more kisses has her grinning even wider. He is... unmistakably charming like this, and she's delighted at the chance to have him. Which she should get to, easily pulling off her robe to throw it off to the side -- they'll have to get him naked as well, but that means she would have to get off his lap; she's not so keen on that at the moment. )
Where would you like me to have you? On the bed? Across the table? I don't think I could support your weight for fucking you against the wall face to face and I'd need a stool otherwise, but we can adapt!
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[ Not that he is particularly jealous or anything, but it's clear he mislikes the idea of her having any kind of experience with anyone else. There's a slight curve to his lips, almost a rather upset sneer, but he gets himself under control very quickly.
It helps that she leans in to give him more kisses, that he soothes some of his battered ego by letting him lean in and press their mouths together again. It's tender, a little more gentle, something soft, exploratory more than anything else.
She is so very carefree about the whole matter and that makes him cough, looking around the room. ]
The bed will likely suit, I think, though...
[ She will have to move - but he can't have that. He shifts, rising to his feet and bringing her with him, one hand moving swiftly to hold her by her ass. ]
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Are you jealous, Emet? ( She sounds absolutely delighted. ) No one, no one but you, you silly man.
( Just so he knows. The softness in his kiss practically melts her with genuine kindness -- it's what she wishes they could have had, glad that she could give it to him now in this hour. She doesn't expect him to pick her up, however, and her yelp of surprise is mostly muffled by his mouth. )
Oh!
( Pahja dissolves into surprised laughter, throwing her arms around his neck to keep herself in his arms. )
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[ Which means he absolutely is, but he does not want to talk about it one little bit. The idea of being jealous over a person he barely knows, one who means vaguely little to him beyond being the harbinger of doom? He has to smother those feelings.
It's easier to focus on walking her over to his bed, a rather large stretch of a thing, and settling himself down with her in his lap once again. It's easier to tilt his head up, to leave a kiss on her jaw, on her neck, on her shoulder, to hum against her skin.
He doesn't quite know what to do next. ]
Direct me as you please, then, little familiar.
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Looking down at him, Pahja brushes his hair away from his face, placing a kiss of her own on his forehead. )
Hmm. We could make out for a while more, I think, or you could strip.
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[ He says it almost incredulously, as if the idea of taking his robes off is completely foreign - which is is. The very fact that he has dared to even task his mask of before her says a great deal about his affection for Azem, and he forces himself to settle down and not think too hard on it.
Shaking his head, he waves his hand and clicks his fingers - and his robes are no more, disappeared into nothingness. ]
Happy?
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( And then he's just naked, and Pahja can't help but stare, a little openmouthed, at all of him. She doesn't know what she expected -- the Emet she knows is old, worn down by loss and the weight on his shoulders bending them still -- but not unattractive. Yet this, seeing him in his youth, is an entirely different thing.
So she's staring. For a long moment before coughing slightly and coming back to herself. )
Very. ( Which means she'll run her hands over his shoulders, down his chest to playfully tweak a nipple -- all while focusing on kissing him as deeply as he will allow. In between kisses, however, she finally finds the words to continue. ) Tell me when you want me. We'll go from there.
( She really should finish stripping, and it takes her a moment of repositioning herself to shed her pants and shoes, but then she does, and slides her hand down between them to drag the tips of her claw-like nails across the soft skin of his cock. )
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Is he not a handsome man? It must be so.
Leaning back a little, he watches her with a raised eyebrow, allowing her to explore as she pleases before she tweaks at him - and then he returns to his usual scowl, giving her a sour little look. ]
When I want you? I believe you have a little work to do first -
[ He's cut off by her hand, hissing a little and shifting his hips. ]
- which, clearly, you are seeing to.
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Is that so, Emet-Selch? ( Her touch becomes more direct, wrapping her hand around his cock fully to stroke him once, palm worn and rough against the soft skin. ) Then I take back my generous actions of earlier -- I want you to beg for me to take you.
( He might be inexperienced, but Pahja hedges her bets as to what he might like and shifts so that she is on her knees above him. One of her knees goes to his leg to keep his hips pinned to the bed while her hand works over him, and the other goes to tangle in the hair at the back of his head, pulling to direct his gaze up at her.
There is still kindness in her eyes, however, a lurking understanding that if this isn't what he wants he need only tell her and she will cease. )
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His head still tilts and nose still wrinkles. ]
I am not one for begging, no matter what you might offer.
[ True enough that her hand on his cock feels remarkable; true enough that he wishes for more of it, to allow himself to fully succumb to what she is giving him. His breathing shakes a little and his eyes flicker, feeling flushed from the warmth of pleasure.
He is not against the idea; stubbornness simply wins out. ]
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Aye, I am well aware of that. Which is precisely why I want to see your pretty lips form the words "Pahja, please".
( She drags out the whine, catching his lower lip between her teeth and dragging it out after, in emphasis. He might protest that they don't have long, but Pahja is confident enough that she can make him beg for her in that time. After all, he seems wont to put up rough front for a softer, truer self.
Using it against him in this manner is probably unwise, all told, but if she has one shot at this she's simply going to use all that she has at her disposal. Which means continuing to stroke him, occasionally letting the tips of her nails scrape over him. Demanding, but at a slow and steady pace without much in the way of urgency.
She will take her time. )
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Oh, is this some fair trade for you having to make requests from me before? Poor form for a supposed hero, stealing into my rooms at night and making demands of my virtue.
[ There is a determination to him that is betrayed only by the way his cock twitches as he looks at her, a desire that he is fighting with - his own nature versus his wants, the knowledge that he might gain an experience born of nothing short of pure pleasure. The idea of having to lay low his pride, however, is not something that he is quite able to suppress.
He could simply magick her the way he wants, have her on her back, clothes removed, but it seems such a barbaric thing to do when he is sure he might wait her out. She wants as much as he does, after all, and he has lived for eons. He can live longer.
Surely. ]
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Yes, you've caught me. No hero am I, but a woman bent upon finding those most in need of a lesson of humility. And you, Hades, are the most in need in all of Elpis.
( He is right about one thing: he has lived for eons. But as someone unexperienced -- by choice, yes -- but inexperienced all the same. Pahja thinks that gives her an advantage. And if he wishes to have her rather than the other way around, well. She won't complain so long as he is the one who breaks first.
But she can feel that he is not unmoved. That only encourages her, and she leans forward to bite and tug at his earlobe if he will let her get close. Another tease as her grip on his cock tightens, dragging her hand up and down slightly faster but still slow, achingly so. )
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There is no need for humility when I recognise my talents as they are. It would be foolish to do anything else.
[ But, oh, she is quite the tease, a temptation he can barely resist, and while this all seems to be moving at the speed of creation itself he cannot find a way to shrug off his want to force himself to be tight and controlled. It is not simply a desire to make her work for it - it is knowledge that he does not want to appear weak.
Especially in something so new.
Still, his hips jerk, just a little, his breathing hitching, just enough that it's a sign of weakness. ]
I have no desire to simply relent.
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No, no. You would not be Emet-Selch if you did. ( That she will give him as she continues to drag her hand up and down him, squeezing now here and there -- uneven. She can sense his weakness, the fact he is not as unaffected as he would wish to convince her. ) For I have ever had to exert myself to prove myself to you. But I won against your vaunted might then, and will do so now.
( A breath, and then she leans in further, wondering if she can work herself to the heart of the matter. )
It isn't weakness, to give into what you want. Oh, Emet, you never have to worry about that. Not with me, I promise.
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Certainly not. [ He is shaking, just a little, some movement to his shoulders, his eyes flickering just so - he's not entirely unaffected by her touches and the softness of her voice. He looks at her, eyes wide and wanting, until he blinks it away.
Swallowing, he leans back, but there's not much space for it. ]
Did I say it was weakness? It is determination, dogged determination.
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So it is. But I want to have you, Emet. And this-- ( She laughs, soft and kind, as she rubs her thumb over the head of his cock, pressing another kiss to the corner of his lips. ) Makes me think you're not uninterested. Let me make you feel good, Hades.
( For both of them. )
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It will undo him, eventually.
Lifting his head, he tilts a little closer towards her. ]
Say please.
[ Because he is, as always, himself. ]
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Oh Honorable Emet-Selch, please let me fuck you.
( Her hand picks up its speed, squeezing tighter as she roughly drags it down his cock. If it is by her hand that she will undo him then she will not give him anything less than her all.
How this will all play out, what it means for the future she does not yet know, but-- but she will have this, at least. She will have him for one bright moment.
It is the biggest, smallest gift anyone could have given her. )
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He cannot help laughing aloud all the same. ]
Since you asked so gently, so kindly.
[ He leans in and kisses her, hard and pressing, teeth scraping over hers before he leans back, letting his fingers grab at her clothing.
Emet-Selch, Hades, is nervous, but he refuses to allow it. ]
Do as you will.
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For now she smiles, and curls a hand around one of his. )
What's this? The great Emet-Selch will simply lie there and let me ravish him? The first lesson anyone must learn during sex is that it is a give and take. So-- unrobe me as you please.
( He may be nervous underneath all that bluster, but Pahja intends on doing this right. A pause, however, as she leans forward to capture his lips in another kiss. )
And bring the items you conjured over here, won't you? I find myself unwilling to leave your lap for the time being.
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[ It is still odd, this sudden lunge to intimacy, but she feels so familiar, so close to his own heart already that perhaps this was inevitable. His fingers begin to move up her body, to touch against her sides, to rest tentatively - and then with more confidence - on the shape of her waist as he leans up.
Hades, as he is, feels much larger than she already, but a flick of his wrist has her tools re-joining them in the comfort of his bedding, his lips curling into something of a smirk.
This is easier, at least; he can peel clothing from a body. ]
Since you asked so nicely.
[ He begins with what he can, starting to push away fabric, to let his fingers trace and explore and find the warmth of her skin, eyes widening just a little. ]
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( He won't. Or maybe he will, to some alternate version of herself who will reap the rewards of Pahja and Emet's overwhelming sentementality. She can only hope that someone will. But the brush of his fingers as he bears skin has her gasping, shivering in the wake of his touch.
She shrugs off her layers where she can, shedding her top with relative ease once his fingers figure out the straps and ties. At that, Pahja gently takes one of his hands, encouraging him to touch her breasts, run his fingers over her hardening nipples. )
Ah, much better.
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If what she says is correct, however, then perhaps he will remind her of this moment in several thousand years.
His fingers move to touch her breasts, to let a thumb flick over a nipple, and he tries to resist the wide-eyed awe he feels when he looks at her. His other hand comes to join it, stroking over the other one before it sinks lower, letting his other hand slip towards the gap between her legs, to let himself touch, to try and give her whatever she desires.
Emet-Selch wants to please her, more than anything. ]
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