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Jun. 6th, 2007 03:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
emeraldembersI'm still feeling down 'n' icky, but eh, so I'm doing a catch up post on my porn (and one not porn!) snippets again for fun.
Oh, jewelcrafting in World of Warcraft, you are ADDICTIVE.
~
In between the mind-blowing sex and having someone at his back who actually knew what they were doing with weaponry and magic, one of the major advantages of Balthier's relationship with Fran was the freedom factor. Freedom to say what he wished, act as he wished, so on and so forth.
It wasn't very often he leapt to her defence because he knew all too well how very capable of defending herself Fran was, but sometimes the culture differences between Viera and humes made it a little necessary. As long as he didn't play the conquering hero, she tended not to mind.
Given Viera tended to live out all, or at least the bulk of their lives in all-female communities, the fact that they could deal with sexual frustrations or find alternates to male on female coupling wasn't so surprising. Sadly it also meant that when Basch kept staring at her - even if he desperately tried not to - as though she were writhing on his fingers already, she displayed all the traits of one ready to emasculate with her claws.
Balthier had taken her aside for a brief moment to try and explain the situation before giving in and declaring he'd try to 'fix things', albeit perhaps only for as long as it took for certain parts to reacquaint themselves with normal life.
"It's impolite to stare at a lady like that," Balthier cautioned Basch, carefully lacing the tone of his voice with as much 'only ladies, mind' as possible, testing the waters though after what - how much time in solitary confinement? - it seemed unnecessary. Basch had given Balthier two seconds of a return challenge glare before grabbing him and pulling him aside and away from the rest of the group.
"I have endeavoured to look away at every given opportunity."
"Then let me help you distract yourself," Balthier replied before gripping Basch through his clothes, not entirely surprised at the fact Basch was already hard or at the way the man nearly fell apart at the touch. "You were unable to help yourself in the prison?"
Basch grunted in disapproval of being asked to respond to any sort of questioning, and Balthier obeyed the unsaid request by pulling Basch's clothes aside, shifting their positions so that the only surface to be marked by their activities would be the wall, and continuing to stroke. "Thank you," Basch near mumbled, the expression seeming strangely over-polite as Balthier continued attending to the matter at hand. It was fairly pleasant for a supposed chore, Basch being an attractive enough individual even with the ragged hair and weakened muscles from bearing out so much time without proper attention, and Balthier wondered after Basch came if there would be time later for a more thorough examination of Basch's tendencies.
"You seem comfortable with taking assistance from a man," Balthier said as he wiped his hands clean on a spare handkerchief, offering it to Basch to mop up anything else that remained and mattered.
"It would not be the first time," Basch replied, looking slightly pained for a second as he adjusted his clothing. "Do you need the favour returning?"
"I'll keep it in mind." Balthier smirked slightly before patting Basch lightly on the back and heading back off to join up with the others, pondering what miraculous excuse Fran would have woven for his sudden disappearance; unless, of course, she played true to form and told the brutally honest truth.
~
Balthier groaned, the sound slightly distorted by his smirk. It wasn't a cruel smirk, simply one born of pride at his own cleverness in persuading both partners to such an arrangement. Well, at persuading one partner; Basch hadn't exactly been a tough sell, given the starvation for physical contact he'd endured until so very recently. It was Fran who'd been difficult to persuade, and might never have been persuaded at all if Basch hadn't won her over some time before Balthier even thought of such an arrangement by presenting her with a gift of new weaponry. Altruistic and more importantly practical; the best way towards the outermost layer of a viera's heart.
Basch pushed deeper, in turn driving Balthier further into Fran, her long legs seeming even more spectacular when straddling not only his hips but nearly locking ankles behind Basch. And Basch had been so very, very careful not to touch Fran without her permission, keeping his eyes and attention on Balthier with some determination until she took a hand he'd near clamped on Balthier's shoulder and moved it to her own. Unsurprisingly he'd had to see what happened if he stroked the lightly furred surface of her ears, his cock twitching inside Balthier at the sound it brought forth from her lips.
As ever Fran refused to be a submissive partner - and it was a good thing because damn near all of what made her appeal to Balthier so much sprouted from her strength and independence - shifting her legs and her weight so she could lean over Balthier's shoulder and pull Basch close enough to kiss. Catching the sight strained his neck but it had been enough to draw out Balthier's orgasm, watching her lips on Basch's, her masterful grasp of Basch's need for contact, for the physical affection of hands and lips and skin. Simple aesthetics made it all the better with the contrast of their skin, their features, though both had strength in their bone structures beyond any ordinary man or woman.
He'd quite happily moved out of the way then, settling back against the bed with his arms folded behind his head as he watched Fran settle in Basch's lap, drawing him inside her and silencing any doubt or concern with her lips once more. It had been delicious - if he'd had any strength left he could have easily come again just watching them at work, watching Basch's hands hesitate in the air by her sides before moving to hold her breasts, kneading with his huge palms while pinching her nipples carefully. She'd come first, something any man could be proud of, but waited a moment longer while he had his last inside of her, murmuring something against her neck that made her roll her eyes but smile nonetheless before easing up and leaving the bed.
Basch seemed a little perplexed until Balthier explained that she never slept with company unless forced to by circumstance, seemed to consider doing the same until Balthier offered a handkerchief to clean up what he could. A bath would definitely be necessary soon enough, and it was good that they had found themselves an inn without imperial contacts for it meant they could stay long enough to source a bathhouse.
Balthier smirked again as he closed his eyes to sleep and felt Basch curl up on the edge of the bed, stretched out one of his arms to pull the blond man over. "You're not a stranger and I have no hatred for you. Come here."
"I'll smell foul in the morning."
"No worse than I, I can assure you."
Definitely an arrangement worth keeping, Balthier decided, and pondered how long Fran would permit it.
~
"Mmph! Mmm-mmm mmmm mmmph mmh!"
"Is that an apology?" Marluxia asked, cocking his head to one side as he encouraged the vine to trail one tendril across Axel's cheek, crossing over its brothers covering the red-haired man's lips to trace the marking beneath his left eye. "Is it for me, or for the plants you referred to as 'girly and useless'?"
Axel wriggled, eyes blazing like the fire he could command, although it was an annoyance to see more defiance there than worry or anything as concrete as terror. They were all mimicked emotions, anyway. "Mmph mmph!"
Interesting how Axel could yell an 'Mmph' that sounded distinctly like 'You', but Marluxia decided against wondering what the former 'mmph' had been. "Such a bad tempered boy deserves a lesson. If I weren't so generous I might add some poison ivy to the mix," Added Marluxia as he ordered the vines to pull Axel's legs apart, carefully slitting trousers open with firm thorns before finding places for the smoother tendrils to explore. "You've been very naughty, Axel."
I'll get you for this, Axel's eyes screamed, even as his body went limp at the firm touch of one tendril to his erection. I'll show you what fire can do to vines.
For the record, even as he gathered a larger segment of tendrils to go where no sun or fire shone, Marluxia couldn't wait.
~
The first thing Volgin noticed other than the curious smell of every electrical component within fifteen metres of him exploding was that Raikov was still standing, looking rather irritated at the way his hair now pointed a good seven or so inches above his head. Volgin decided against pointing out it looked perversely cute.
The second was that Raikov's abdomen was still distended in a very not food, not drink, not I'm lying about pregnancy way.
The third was that he wasn't actually scared of being father to Raikov's child. More extremely perplexed, and... well. Extremely perplexed.
"Is it mine?"
~
Raikov tilted his head to one side as Volgin licked between his toes before sucking briefly on the largest, couldn't deny the shiver that ran over him as huge hands massaged his ankle, careful not to dislodge or brush against the bandage around the middle of his foot. "It was only a small nail, Volgin."
"I'm getting that room of yours refurbished," Volgin growled, before moving up to unbutton and unbuckled Raikov's trousers, finding that job had been taken care of already. Ivan Raidenovitch Raikov wasn't exactly known for patience, and Volgin found his mood warmed just a little by his lover's quirks while pulling the trousers off the rest of the way. "And I'll check it inch by inch. I should find the goddamn carpenter who put it in and-"
"Volgin," Raikov cut across, the only person with the balls or the right to interrupt. "As much as I agree with you," he gripped Volgin's shoulders, pulling him upwards and running a thumb over a dislocation scar, "And as much as I'd like to smell him burning, I didn't come here for those services."
Volgin grinned and moved into place, knees sinking into the satin sheets - gaudy, and illegal, but necessary - pulling Raikov's legs up to settle over his shoulders, still careful not to nudge the injured foot. In most areas of life Volgin was impatient - even waiting for Raikov he'd stripped to save time, and wouldn't have paused until they got to foreplay if it wasn't for the bandage evident on Raikov's foot when he pulled off his boots. He'd seen tetanus in full force on others, and it wasn't pleasant. Nonetheless, despite his impatience in most areas, once Raikov was naked - as he was now, save the bandage - Volgin couldn't help but prolong the experience as much as possible. Raikov was so goddamned beautiful, angelic beautiful, and while he'd expected the scars and rumours that weren't rumours about Volgin's usual treatment of lovers to make bondage the only way to get Raikov into bed, those scars seemed to have been the very source of Raikov's interest in him. That, or an excuse to get close to him; Volgin remembered their first kiss, Raikov coming to his quarters under some pretence of needing permission to get supplies for the scientists before asking about his scars and asking permission to touch them. "Touching will cost you," Volgin had warned, and Raikov had grinned, brushing smooth fingers across the half papery, half too-firm skin of his scars before standing on tip-toe, lips parted and eyes closed as he waited for Volgin to make the first move.
He'd been suspicious at first, of course; no one would want someone with his face unless they were perverse, so Raikov had to be a spy or have some ulterior motive, but the more he learnt of Raikov and his violent streak the more he thought he might actually be wrong this time, might actually...
He hadn't thought the word 'love'. God, been so damned careful not to think it, not even when Raikov first rode him to orgasm, trousers around his ankles and boots digging into Volgin's shins as he moved. And Raikov had ruined all that by bearing out a fit of rage at some idiot scientist that ended in Volgin punching him, unshielded electricity shocking Raikov enough for him to pass out, and instead of being afraid of him or angry at him, when Raikov woke up he demanded an explanation, listened to it, and kissed him in forgiveness. Beautiful blond bastard, how could he not weaken at that, suspicions or no?
Volgin finished fingering Raikov open, kissed his shin briefly in lieu of being able to kiss his lips in this position, pushed in slowly and studied his lover's face intently as he did so, watching the moment of strangeness - pain wasn't an issue anymore, this being something they'd done enough times and Volgin having mastered preparation enough - and, after, the moment of relaxation. "Let me move," Raikov urged, eyes flicking down to where they were joined before returning to Volgin's.
"Are you certain? Your foot-"
"Will heal," Raikov assured, hands returning to Volgin's shoulders as his legs slipped from them so they could roll and let Raikov settle on top. "I'm not broken. I'm not going to break."
Volgin nodded and settled into place, actually glad of the position. He could last longer like this, and the view was better - let him see where they were joined without craning his neck, let him kiss Raikov as and when he liked. Raikov smiled, kissed him once more before settling back on his haunches and moving, cock hard against the flat of his stomach, as perfect as the rest of him. Volgin liked women, their softness and complex folds, but they were still just women, his subordinates, and always terrified of him. Raikov wasn't. Raikov controlled him without dominating him, doing things that ought to be mutually exclusive - his angel who went with men, the beauty who didn't merely settle for a beast but seemed to enjoy it.
"I love you," he said at last when he came, unable to resist - never unable to resist gasping sweet nothings and idiocy that ought to embarass him when at that peak, worked there by slender, steel-strong thighs, smooth-skinned hands and too-delicious lips. "Goddamnit, I d-"
Raikov cut him off with another kiss, easing off Volgin and grinding his erection against Volgin's stomach until milky jets shot across both their chests, last of it spattering just under Volgin's chin until Raikov pulled back from the kiss and licked it away. "Same here."
~
"Too many years," Tyrande gasps in his ear as she moves against him, strong and beautiful as ever.
"Too many by far," He agrees, one hand firm at her waist and the other toying with her nipple ring, blowing air cool over her ear but careful not to touch, knowing how over-sensitive they were until the very peak of sex where most blood had been diverted elsewhere. She was so perfect, so patient and powerful, any night elf's dream woman, independent and intelligent. He didn't have enough hands for her, not to do what he wanted, to explore every inch of her, remember all over again how she felt, the secret soft places inside elbow and behind knee, and everywhere out of normal sight under armour and cloth.
A good job then that he had a means to deal with the lack of twenty or more hands.
He knew he wasn't meant to use his powers over nature heedlessly, but it wasn't as if he was doing anything damaging with the roots. And to be perfectly honest, watching her reaction as a tendril curved around her other breast and loop under the second nipple ring made the fact he'd possibly abused the power wholly unimportant.
Tyrande shivered all the way through as she came, drawing him over the edge with her as she tangled both hands in his hair, kissing him so deep it was as if she could reach his soul, taste it through his lips. Elune grant that if anyone took his soul, it should be her.
The roots slipped away, finding their origin beneath the floor and withdrawing carefully from everywhere they'd found purchase, sending yet more tremors with her from their effects on oversensitive skin.
"Too long," Tyrande murmured, eyes glowing soft as she allowed herself a moment's rest. They didn't have enough time to spend in each other's company, not with the army to muster and send out against its latest target.
Malfurion nodded and took her hand, kissing the palm before resting his cheek against it. "There'll never be enough time. But everything I have, I swear I'll give to you."
Anywho. Guess I'm off to get some sleep, I feel nauseous :X. Probably should check the washing for dryness first so I'm not a total slacker.
*snuggles flist*
You guys are made of so much awesome and win, you really are.
Oh, jewelcrafting in World of Warcraft, you are ADDICTIVE.
~
In between the mind-blowing sex and having someone at his back who actually knew what they were doing with weaponry and magic, one of the major advantages of Balthier's relationship with Fran was the freedom factor. Freedom to say what he wished, act as he wished, so on and so forth.
It wasn't very often he leapt to her defence because he knew all too well how very capable of defending herself Fran was, but sometimes the culture differences between Viera and humes made it a little necessary. As long as he didn't play the conquering hero, she tended not to mind.
Given Viera tended to live out all, or at least the bulk of their lives in all-female communities, the fact that they could deal with sexual frustrations or find alternates to male on female coupling wasn't so surprising. Sadly it also meant that when Basch kept staring at her - even if he desperately tried not to - as though she were writhing on his fingers already, she displayed all the traits of one ready to emasculate with her claws.
Balthier had taken her aside for a brief moment to try and explain the situation before giving in and declaring he'd try to 'fix things', albeit perhaps only for as long as it took for certain parts to reacquaint themselves with normal life.
"It's impolite to stare at a lady like that," Balthier cautioned Basch, carefully lacing the tone of his voice with as much 'only ladies, mind' as possible, testing the waters though after what - how much time in solitary confinement? - it seemed unnecessary. Basch had given Balthier two seconds of a return challenge glare before grabbing him and pulling him aside and away from the rest of the group.
"I have endeavoured to look away at every given opportunity."
"Then let me help you distract yourself," Balthier replied before gripping Basch through his clothes, not entirely surprised at the fact Basch was already hard or at the way the man nearly fell apart at the touch. "You were unable to help yourself in the prison?"
Basch grunted in disapproval of being asked to respond to any sort of questioning, and Balthier obeyed the unsaid request by pulling Basch's clothes aside, shifting their positions so that the only surface to be marked by their activities would be the wall, and continuing to stroke. "Thank you," Basch near mumbled, the expression seeming strangely over-polite as Balthier continued attending to the matter at hand. It was fairly pleasant for a supposed chore, Basch being an attractive enough individual even with the ragged hair and weakened muscles from bearing out so much time without proper attention, and Balthier wondered after Basch came if there would be time later for a more thorough examination of Basch's tendencies.
"You seem comfortable with taking assistance from a man," Balthier said as he wiped his hands clean on a spare handkerchief, offering it to Basch to mop up anything else that remained and mattered.
"It would not be the first time," Basch replied, looking slightly pained for a second as he adjusted his clothing. "Do you need the favour returning?"
"I'll keep it in mind." Balthier smirked slightly before patting Basch lightly on the back and heading back off to join up with the others, pondering what miraculous excuse Fran would have woven for his sudden disappearance; unless, of course, she played true to form and told the brutally honest truth.
~
Balthier groaned, the sound slightly distorted by his smirk. It wasn't a cruel smirk, simply one born of pride at his own cleverness in persuading both partners to such an arrangement. Well, at persuading one partner; Basch hadn't exactly been a tough sell, given the starvation for physical contact he'd endured until so very recently. It was Fran who'd been difficult to persuade, and might never have been persuaded at all if Basch hadn't won her over some time before Balthier even thought of such an arrangement by presenting her with a gift of new weaponry. Altruistic and more importantly practical; the best way towards the outermost layer of a viera's heart.
Basch pushed deeper, in turn driving Balthier further into Fran, her long legs seeming even more spectacular when straddling not only his hips but nearly locking ankles behind Basch. And Basch had been so very, very careful not to touch Fran without her permission, keeping his eyes and attention on Balthier with some determination until she took a hand he'd near clamped on Balthier's shoulder and moved it to her own. Unsurprisingly he'd had to see what happened if he stroked the lightly furred surface of her ears, his cock twitching inside Balthier at the sound it brought forth from her lips.
As ever Fran refused to be a submissive partner - and it was a good thing because damn near all of what made her appeal to Balthier so much sprouted from her strength and independence - shifting her legs and her weight so she could lean over Balthier's shoulder and pull Basch close enough to kiss. Catching the sight strained his neck but it had been enough to draw out Balthier's orgasm, watching her lips on Basch's, her masterful grasp of Basch's need for contact, for the physical affection of hands and lips and skin. Simple aesthetics made it all the better with the contrast of their skin, their features, though both had strength in their bone structures beyond any ordinary man or woman.
He'd quite happily moved out of the way then, settling back against the bed with his arms folded behind his head as he watched Fran settle in Basch's lap, drawing him inside her and silencing any doubt or concern with her lips once more. It had been delicious - if he'd had any strength left he could have easily come again just watching them at work, watching Basch's hands hesitate in the air by her sides before moving to hold her breasts, kneading with his huge palms while pinching her nipples carefully. She'd come first, something any man could be proud of, but waited a moment longer while he had his last inside of her, murmuring something against her neck that made her roll her eyes but smile nonetheless before easing up and leaving the bed.
Basch seemed a little perplexed until Balthier explained that she never slept with company unless forced to by circumstance, seemed to consider doing the same until Balthier offered a handkerchief to clean up what he could. A bath would definitely be necessary soon enough, and it was good that they had found themselves an inn without imperial contacts for it meant they could stay long enough to source a bathhouse.
Balthier smirked again as he closed his eyes to sleep and felt Basch curl up on the edge of the bed, stretched out one of his arms to pull the blond man over. "You're not a stranger and I have no hatred for you. Come here."
"I'll smell foul in the morning."
"No worse than I, I can assure you."
Definitely an arrangement worth keeping, Balthier decided, and pondered how long Fran would permit it.
~
"Mmph! Mmm-mmm mmmm mmmph mmh!"
"Is that an apology?" Marluxia asked, cocking his head to one side as he encouraged the vine to trail one tendril across Axel's cheek, crossing over its brothers covering the red-haired man's lips to trace the marking beneath his left eye. "Is it for me, or for the plants you referred to as 'girly and useless'?"
Axel wriggled, eyes blazing like the fire he could command, although it was an annoyance to see more defiance there than worry or anything as concrete as terror. They were all mimicked emotions, anyway. "Mmph mmph!"
Interesting how Axel could yell an 'Mmph' that sounded distinctly like 'You', but Marluxia decided against wondering what the former 'mmph' had been. "Such a bad tempered boy deserves a lesson. If I weren't so generous I might add some poison ivy to the mix," Added Marluxia as he ordered the vines to pull Axel's legs apart, carefully slitting trousers open with firm thorns before finding places for the smoother tendrils to explore. "You've been very naughty, Axel."
I'll get you for this, Axel's eyes screamed, even as his body went limp at the firm touch of one tendril to his erection. I'll show you what fire can do to vines.
For the record, even as he gathered a larger segment of tendrils to go where no sun or fire shone, Marluxia couldn't wait.
~
The first thing Volgin noticed other than the curious smell of every electrical component within fifteen metres of him exploding was that Raikov was still standing, looking rather irritated at the way his hair now pointed a good seven or so inches above his head. Volgin decided against pointing out it looked perversely cute.
The second was that Raikov's abdomen was still distended in a very not food, not drink, not I'm lying about pregnancy way.
The third was that he wasn't actually scared of being father to Raikov's child. More extremely perplexed, and... well. Extremely perplexed.
"Is it mine?"
~
Raikov tilted his head to one side as Volgin licked between his toes before sucking briefly on the largest, couldn't deny the shiver that ran over him as huge hands massaged his ankle, careful not to dislodge or brush against the bandage around the middle of his foot. "It was only a small nail, Volgin."
"I'm getting that room of yours refurbished," Volgin growled, before moving up to unbutton and unbuckled Raikov's trousers, finding that job had been taken care of already. Ivan Raidenovitch Raikov wasn't exactly known for patience, and Volgin found his mood warmed just a little by his lover's quirks while pulling the trousers off the rest of the way. "And I'll check it inch by inch. I should find the goddamn carpenter who put it in and-"
"Volgin," Raikov cut across, the only person with the balls or the right to interrupt. "As much as I agree with you," he gripped Volgin's shoulders, pulling him upwards and running a thumb over a dislocation scar, "And as much as I'd like to smell him burning, I didn't come here for those services."
Volgin grinned and moved into place, knees sinking into the satin sheets - gaudy, and illegal, but necessary - pulling Raikov's legs up to settle over his shoulders, still careful not to nudge the injured foot. In most areas of life Volgin was impatient - even waiting for Raikov he'd stripped to save time, and wouldn't have paused until they got to foreplay if it wasn't for the bandage evident on Raikov's foot when he pulled off his boots. He'd seen tetanus in full force on others, and it wasn't pleasant. Nonetheless, despite his impatience in most areas, once Raikov was naked - as he was now, save the bandage - Volgin couldn't help but prolong the experience as much as possible. Raikov was so goddamned beautiful, angelic beautiful, and while he'd expected the scars and rumours that weren't rumours about Volgin's usual treatment of lovers to make bondage the only way to get Raikov into bed, those scars seemed to have been the very source of Raikov's interest in him. That, or an excuse to get close to him; Volgin remembered their first kiss, Raikov coming to his quarters under some pretence of needing permission to get supplies for the scientists before asking about his scars and asking permission to touch them. "Touching will cost you," Volgin had warned, and Raikov had grinned, brushing smooth fingers across the half papery, half too-firm skin of his scars before standing on tip-toe, lips parted and eyes closed as he waited for Volgin to make the first move.
He'd been suspicious at first, of course; no one would want someone with his face unless they were perverse, so Raikov had to be a spy or have some ulterior motive, but the more he learnt of Raikov and his violent streak the more he thought he might actually be wrong this time, might actually...
He hadn't thought the word 'love'. God, been so damned careful not to think it, not even when Raikov first rode him to orgasm, trousers around his ankles and boots digging into Volgin's shins as he moved. And Raikov had ruined all that by bearing out a fit of rage at some idiot scientist that ended in Volgin punching him, unshielded electricity shocking Raikov enough for him to pass out, and instead of being afraid of him or angry at him, when Raikov woke up he demanded an explanation, listened to it, and kissed him in forgiveness. Beautiful blond bastard, how could he not weaken at that, suspicions or no?
Volgin finished fingering Raikov open, kissed his shin briefly in lieu of being able to kiss his lips in this position, pushed in slowly and studied his lover's face intently as he did so, watching the moment of strangeness - pain wasn't an issue anymore, this being something they'd done enough times and Volgin having mastered preparation enough - and, after, the moment of relaxation. "Let me move," Raikov urged, eyes flicking down to where they were joined before returning to Volgin's.
"Are you certain? Your foot-"
"Will heal," Raikov assured, hands returning to Volgin's shoulders as his legs slipped from them so they could roll and let Raikov settle on top. "I'm not broken. I'm not going to break."
Volgin nodded and settled into place, actually glad of the position. He could last longer like this, and the view was better - let him see where they were joined without craning his neck, let him kiss Raikov as and when he liked. Raikov smiled, kissed him once more before settling back on his haunches and moving, cock hard against the flat of his stomach, as perfect as the rest of him. Volgin liked women, their softness and complex folds, but they were still just women, his subordinates, and always terrified of him. Raikov wasn't. Raikov controlled him without dominating him, doing things that ought to be mutually exclusive - his angel who went with men, the beauty who didn't merely settle for a beast but seemed to enjoy it.
"I love you," he said at last when he came, unable to resist - never unable to resist gasping sweet nothings and idiocy that ought to embarass him when at that peak, worked there by slender, steel-strong thighs, smooth-skinned hands and too-delicious lips. "Goddamnit, I d-"
Raikov cut him off with another kiss, easing off Volgin and grinding his erection against Volgin's stomach until milky jets shot across both their chests, last of it spattering just under Volgin's chin until Raikov pulled back from the kiss and licked it away. "Same here."
~
"Too many years," Tyrande gasps in his ear as she moves against him, strong and beautiful as ever.
"Too many by far," He agrees, one hand firm at her waist and the other toying with her nipple ring, blowing air cool over her ear but careful not to touch, knowing how over-sensitive they were until the very peak of sex where most blood had been diverted elsewhere. She was so perfect, so patient and powerful, any night elf's dream woman, independent and intelligent. He didn't have enough hands for her, not to do what he wanted, to explore every inch of her, remember all over again how she felt, the secret soft places inside elbow and behind knee, and everywhere out of normal sight under armour and cloth.
A good job then that he had a means to deal with the lack of twenty or more hands.
He knew he wasn't meant to use his powers over nature heedlessly, but it wasn't as if he was doing anything damaging with the roots. And to be perfectly honest, watching her reaction as a tendril curved around her other breast and loop under the second nipple ring made the fact he'd possibly abused the power wholly unimportant.
Tyrande shivered all the way through as she came, drawing him over the edge with her as she tangled both hands in his hair, kissing him so deep it was as if she could reach his soul, taste it through his lips. Elune grant that if anyone took his soul, it should be her.
The roots slipped away, finding their origin beneath the floor and withdrawing carefully from everywhere they'd found purchase, sending yet more tremors with her from their effects on oversensitive skin.
"Too long," Tyrande murmured, eyes glowing soft as she allowed herself a moment's rest. They didn't have enough time to spend in each other's company, not with the army to muster and send out against its latest target.
Malfurion nodded and took her hand, kissing the palm before resting his cheek against it. "There'll never be enough time. But everything I have, I swear I'll give to you."
Anywho. Guess I'm off to get some sleep, I feel nauseous :X. Probably should check the washing for dryness first so I'm not a total slacker.
*snuggles flist*
You guys are made of so much awesome and win, you really are.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-06-06 02:40 pm (UTC)I didn't know you actually played WoW. What server? XD
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Date: 2007-06-07 01:37 pm (UTC)