sunseeker | an ill-advised venture (for sarcaskick)

an ill-advised venture (for sarcaskick)

[ It's another frigid night in Ishgard, and M'ahina finds herself arriving somewhat earlier than the appointed hour. She's content to order some wine to at least warm herself as she waits, but in spite of the good drink, she grows bored almost comically fast. Left to her own devices she would probably strike up conversations with other patrons or the like, but in this case, there's a fear it may be somewhat counterproductive to make friends of everyone.

So she simply waits obediently at her own table, idly tracing the rim of her goblet with a gloved finger and a small sigh. Seeing her, one might think she's waited ages rather than several minutes. Keeping to herself is not her forte, it would seem. ]

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True. Next thing we know I might have you against the wall in a crowded tavern. Could your poor heart take it?

[ She clutches at her chest in horror. ]

Stop, stop.

[ He turns to look her dead in the eye - and ah, yes, there it is. The smirk is back. ]

You'll make me blush.

I've... difficulties picturing that.

[ For many reasons, most of which are readily apparently. She turns her head to meet his gaze, however, finding herself unable to turn away from it. She wonders why--then realizes she doesn't actually care. Does it matter? They're having fun. ]

That just means you're not trying hard enough.

[ A pause, before he leans in, just close enough that their noses very nearly touch. ]

Go on. Try harder.

Well, if you're inviting...

[ Then she certainly does not mind closing the gap. It's quite different from the previous night; this she feels like it's okay to laugh into, to take her ease, not particularly worrying about where it leads. Not that their sudden strange, magnetic attraction the night was bad--quite the opposite, in fact--but this...

This, she likes. ]

[ This is still new, really. Last night there had been an undeniable hunger when their lips met - and that's not to say he doesn't still feel some of it even now. But the kiss itself isn't terribly aggressive or demanding, or fervent. Their lips touch warmly, fondly even, and it's safe to say he's never actually had a kiss quite like it.

It's not bad. But then again, maybe that's the booze talking.

But his hand grips her shoulder properly to pull her just a little closer, lips parting slightly to deepen the kiss at a much slower pace than he would normally allow himself. Maybe that's the hot spring affecting him, making him lazy, unhurried.

The drink, the springs, he's content to assume any external force is at play here rather than something internal. ]

[ It feels good to be pulled forward like that, for his lips to part so easily. The pace might be deliberate, but it's also more intimate, with an affection and easy closeness she's been hesitating to put forward. It's what she's wanted, hinted at, even, but parts of the way the previous night occurred had her afraid he'd put a stop to it immediately. It's precisely the kind of thing she could get lost in; she'd do this all day, if she could.

Though she does pull back after a while. Far enough to catch a breath, but close enough her lips still brush his as she speaks. ]

... Think I'm trying hard enough?

[ It's not something he wanted. Or at least, it wasn't something that he ever thought to consider wanting. It's not like he didn't enjoy the base level of coming together to scratch a proverbial itch, so why worry about anything that requires slowing down? Isn't it better to just get to the good part?

Apparently, he might have been mistaken with regards to when the "good part" begins.

Her question makes him crack an eye open, peering at her mischeviously. ]

Do my cheeks look red yet?

[ they don--

actually

just a little. ]

[ Oh. Oh, that's good.

She bursts out laughing, unconciously hugging him closer, even resting their foreheads together. He once expressed curiosity in what she was like drunk, and this is it--an unapologetic sort of affection. Strictly speaking, she's not actually there, but she could almost feel it, and she was never the sort to begin to question her own actions. No need to ruin a good thing. Even so... ]

This is not at all what I was expecting.

[ In a good way, if her expression is any indication. ]

No?

[ It's not what he was expecting, either. Not just today, but... well, ever. If anyone had told him he'd be anywhere near this sort of state he would advise them to go get their head checked, yet when she presses her forehead to his he barely even thinks of backing away (and, in fact, doesn't). Maybe it's the drink. Must be the drink. That is some drink.

The hand by her shoulder slides along her back to tease the back of her neck with his fingertips, nails dully scraping against her nape. ]

Well, if you want to change gears and go bang in the middle of the road, just say the word.

Hmm.

[ She exhales into the touch, a noise of pure contentment, and shakes her head, her forehead rolling against Mercury's. ]

Thank you for the offer, but I believe I'll have to pass on the 'middle of the road' bit. Last night was more than exciting enough.

[ And then some. ]

What a shame.

[ He shrugs, tilting his head and craning his neck to press a kiss against her throat, just beneath her chin. ]

But I guess I can learn to live with it.

How lucky that that you're so understanding.

[ She lifts her chin, so she can give him better access, one of her hands trailing lazily down his back. ]

... Might I make a confession?

[ His lips press to her throat again, accompanied by the graze of his teeth. Not so hard as to leave marks this time, at least not yet. ]

Can't really stop you, can I?

[ He breath catches at the presence of the teeth, and she lifts the hand she has at his back, begining the caress in slow, encouraging circles. She wants to make a quip at what he says, but she pushes it down, wanting to opt for honestly instead. ]

I... can't stop thinking about last night.

[ She likes the slower, more affectionate touches most of all, and yet... She wasn't exaggerating about her excitement. Thinking back on it too hard to is enough to make her want more of it. ]

Ah.

[ Uttered in a quiet breath against her neck, the hand at her neck trailing down to the small of her back. His mouth continues to roam to the crook of her neck, then her clavicle, teeth teasing skin every inch along the way, before he turns his head to glance up at her. ]

Neither can I.

[ His hand, beneath the water, rests on her thigh with a squeeze. ]

Nor do I want to.

[ Gods, that feels good. Even the slight ache as he moves through places he's already bruised, though she's grateful once he passes them by for fresher skin. This was something that had been sorely missing in their eagerness, and it's much easier to appreciate the tingle it sends down her spine. She shifts slightly under the water, at how his affirmation makes the heat pool between her legs. ]

Not to dampen the mood, but... [ She trails down his side with her free hand, squeezing at his hip. ] We'll need to be a bit more discreet this time.

[ This is not a place where they can do this freely; someone discovering would lead to real trouble, not simple embarrassment. She's not terribly keen on getting imprisoned for this if the wrong person happened upon them.

... Though she still doesn't want to move. ]

[ Her warning draws out a laugh - not that she's wrong, of course. It was one thing in a seedy part of town where there were far more important things to worry about than who was rutting with who (and where), but this is another place altogether. On top of that, all of his clothes are in a pile a short distance away. If they're caught, he couldn't exactly make a speedy getaway.

... Or he could, it would just be very awkward. ]

Hey, I can keep it down.

[ He sits up straight again, leaving her neck be for the moment to instead let his lips brush against her ear, the hand at her thigh roaming up as if his fingertips were drawn to the heat between her legs. ]

Can you?

[ Her brows knit when he draws his lips to her ear, barely managing to suppress a shiver. Her legs seem to part on their own for his hand, for the fingers that are so close, yet not quite where she needs them to be. They're a strong enough reminder that she's not going anywhere. ]

... I'll have to try.

[ She did not manage success last time, but she'll have to now. She's tempted to draw herself in more, beg him to touch her more, and yet... Somehow, she feels as though she has something to prove.

She draws both of her hands to his shoulders, swinging a leg over him so she can pull herself into his lap. She rolls her hips forward, letting herself grind against his length, but she pauses, drawing their foreheads together. ]

I want to take care of you this time.

[ It's quiet. She's a bit concerned how he'll respond, if she's being honest. ]

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an ill-advised venture (for sarcaskick)

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