He does the opposite of what she wants, releasing her ivory locks while simultaneously moving to alter his positioning in favor of standing next to her versus over her. Not the effect she had intended with those four simple words, having meant them in the literal sense. But at least she could breathe fully now, and she takes advantage with a deep inhale and exhale before making a soft sound a disapproval.
Couldn’t he see the hungered intensity burning brightly behind the darkness of her eyes? Didn’t he notice the unwillingness and lack of fight to keep practicing the game they had started? She could have kept struggling, kept fighting, tried to get away again. But she hadn’t, she no longer wanted to run—she only wanted him. All of him, all of this moment for what it had become and was becoming.
Never again.
The soft rumble behind her ear quiets the frustrations. He had taken her statement to a much deeper level—to heart—unselfishly cooling the heat behind the moment and taking the time to reassure. Try as she might to keep up the steely facades with so many others, he had first met her as her most vulnerable, most unconfident self. Breckin realizes then, that she would never be able to fool him otherwise (it would be like trying to fool herself), and that at her core would always be the same shy and insecure woman he had initially stumbled across that day. He simply knew what lied at her roots too well, and she wonders if he already knew it was a promise she would never tire of hearing, and if he had already predicted how much that statement would mean to her.
“I love you,” She says finally, her way of returning his own sentiments; it was what she should have said, should have confessed to him so many years ago. If he starts to say something then in response, she abruptly cuts him off. “But don’t just tell me you love me too.” It wouldn’t be good enough alone now. She didn’t think it was possible but somehow she found herself craving his touch more than ever, wanting him to stoke and prod the slow burn of longing building beneath her skin into something all consuming.
A carnal desperation motivates her, finding an easily accessible piece of his skin to grip tightly between her smooth teeth. The scales make it difficult the way they want slide to beneath her mouth but she’s a stubborn thing and makes her mark regardless, hoping to stimulate a small aching pain with the steady pressure of her jaw against him. Her bite doesn’t last long, but she doesn’t make a move to pull away either, holding her lips still pressed into the same spot as if to kiss away the hurt she might have caused in the first place.
The timber of her voice is low when she talks again with the inflection of a whimper and muffled by his body that she tries to meld into. “Speak with your actions, Leilan, show me how much you love me. Please.” He’s already begun to fulfill her demand, but they both knew there was a whole lot of room—and desire-- for more.
@[Leilan]
Couldn’t he see the hungered intensity burning brightly behind the darkness of her eyes? Didn’t he notice the unwillingness and lack of fight to keep practicing the game they had started? She could have kept struggling, kept fighting, tried to get away again. But she hadn’t, she no longer wanted to run—she only wanted him. All of him, all of this moment for what it had become and was becoming.
Never again.
The soft rumble behind her ear quiets the frustrations. He had taken her statement to a much deeper level—to heart—unselfishly cooling the heat behind the moment and taking the time to reassure. Try as she might to keep up the steely facades with so many others, he had first met her as her most vulnerable, most unconfident self. Breckin realizes then, that she would never be able to fool him otherwise (it would be like trying to fool herself), and that at her core would always be the same shy and insecure woman he had initially stumbled across that day. He simply knew what lied at her roots too well, and she wonders if he already knew it was a promise she would never tire of hearing, and if he had already predicted how much that statement would mean to her.
“I love you,” She says finally, her way of returning his own sentiments; it was what she should have said, should have confessed to him so many years ago. If he starts to say something then in response, she abruptly cuts him off. “But don’t just tell me you love me too.” It wouldn’t be good enough alone now. She didn’t think it was possible but somehow she found herself craving his touch more than ever, wanting him to stoke and prod the slow burn of longing building beneath her skin into something all consuming.
A carnal desperation motivates her, finding an easily accessible piece of his skin to grip tightly between her smooth teeth. The scales make it difficult the way they want slide to beneath her mouth but she’s a stubborn thing and makes her mark regardless, hoping to stimulate a small aching pain with the steady pressure of her jaw against him. Her bite doesn’t last long, but she doesn’t make a move to pull away either, holding her lips still pressed into the same spot as if to kiss away the hurt she might have caused in the first place.
The timber of her voice is low when she talks again with the inflection of a whimper and muffled by his body that she tries to meld into. “Speak with your actions, Leilan, show me how much you love me. Please.” He’s already begun to fulfill her demand, but they both knew there was a whole lot of room—and desire-- for more.
@[Leilan]