Tread Lightly [closed] - Printable Version
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RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - Kat - 11-03-2015
In the shock of awaking abruptly, perhaps Rhailo hadn't been as watchful over the Mandalorian as she could have been. His rising in defensive stance was partially noticed on the peripherals of a frightened consciousness, but it didn't entirely register what had happened until the calm returned, and her cheeks reddened quickly. With another quiver of her lips, the Auroun looked away from him so not to make a big deal of his reaction, as she hardly had any place to do so. At least, not when they stood on such shaky ground. "I-I'm sorry, I just.." But as quickly as he had risen, he was returning to the bed, his knife placed on the bedside nightstand where it gleamed under the lights behind her gaze. The weapon didn't necessarily scare her, but what the male could do with it did, and that lingered loosely in the back of her mind for a period.It didn't occur to her the message was never finished, but there was no real need to get into detail. Especially when Demagol had returned to rest on the mattress, though with the addition of a motion made to grab for her. The woman audibly squeaked as a strong arm wrapped around her, and with it, she was brought to rest with her still bare body spooned by his. The warmth was almost too sensual, and instinctively, her figure squirmed against Demagol. It wasn't at all unpleasant to be so close to him, despite everything. Despite the embarrassment tinting her cheeks, or the widening of her oculars where they were forced to stare out towards the windows once more. No, it was welcomed, even if it meant suffering a bout of confusion in it's wake. Inhaling through her nose, she breathed in his scent, and melted into the hold. Eased while her exposed curves were met with the hard tone of the male's physique.
This was new. This.. Was not frightening.
Silver strands strayed from their collective to fall over her visage, a veil of moonlight obscuring pale flesh. The Auroun didn't think herself more attractive than any other Auroun she had met, but theirs was a race where physical perfection was sought after. There were no ugly Auroun. Only sky clad individuals who seemed to resemble distant stars; beacons in the darkness due to their ghostly glow. Modifications to their genetic makeup wasn't uncommon at one point or another to attune selectively bred psionic capabilities, but such alterations also extended to outward appearance. Vanity at it's finest. So where she lay against his partially clothed front, it was a new experience for both, in some sense. Rhailo wasn't just another naked woman to share the sheets with Demagol, and she had never been so close to a hunter in her life. Not that she would know this, or even appreciate it had she known. No, she was much happier contemplating how it had gone from such a terrible nightmare to suddenly being comforted by the person she least expected comfort from.
Her head bowed slightly to smell his arm again. Possibly a weird thing to do, but at the end of the day, Rhailo was a bit odd and there was no avoiding it. Attention lingered over the bicep before it drifted the course of his skin, looking. For scars, for tattoos, for veins. Memorizing what had been offered her way as an olive branch. Rhailo wouldn't forget what he was doing, even if he didn't give it much thought of his own, as it secured that distant hope she had harbored. Demagol wasn't a monster-- Just.. Something. Something she needed to learn more about. Even beasts could be tamed. As the two were covered beneath the layers of linens, her arms were brought to wedge beneath the pillows to boost them in some sense, and the Auroun laid against the fabric with her pigmentless locks a mess curled around her shoulders.
"I didn't mean to wake you," Rhailo began carefully, fearful she might chase him away if she wasn't concise with her thought process, "So please don't be angry with me. It happens sometimes. It's not a big deal... I just had a long day." In that second, the woman would have given anything not to wear that roseate flush, as it did nothing but solidify how ashamed she felt. When she was alone, it was a private shame that no other soul needed to witness. Now though, captured in the Mandalorian's embrace, Rhailo was once more vulnerable. Be it the lack of clothing, or the fact she had caused him to worry, it didn't matter. Everything about it seemed to wear against her pride like a sandpaper. Eventually, the woman would have to do something right. She couldn't always be seen as a massive mistake in his eyes, if only to save herself from self criticism.
"You don't have to hold me if you don't want to.. I mean, it's fine if you'd rather lay on your back." While the words were meant to reassure Demagol, they sounded resistant. She didn't want him to let her go. "I'll just go back to sleep, and you know, be quiet again. I don't want to keep you up. I really didn't mean to wake you up, or anything..." Rhailo closed her eyes, a frown stealing over her features. "I'm sorry. Just my nerves.." Absently beneath the covers, her legs sought to rest tangled with his, finding a way to nestle between in the space available so he was even closer now. As close as he could be, that's what Rhailo wanted, and those small maneuvers she made in between thoughts gave her away. Was she trying to hide that much from him? Whatever it was she felt concerning the male was still a mystery, perhaps even to herself, but with every subtle grind and brush of limbs, it spoke volumes of her appreciation.
"I think, if we had met under different circumstances, you'd like me more." Followed by a quiet laugh, Rhailo sighed inwardly. "You know, even though I'm just a petty criminal.. I'm really not that bad. Really."
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - deific - 11-03-2015
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Oh how sweet and adorable the female’s pleads were, embarrassed and all. He wasn’t the only one moved by those most recent occurrences afterall. She actually seemed to be more focused on herself than him. Such was a relief. Even her direction of attention couldn’t disregard how Demagol’s heart beat so strongly in his chest though, only just now beginning to calm. It was a combination of things. The mood, the female’s touch, her voice, even her scent. It soothed him. Was it mind tricks? No. They were no illusions right now. This was all flesh and blood, passion and emotion. There no tricks here, just the duo who lay together body to body. For a little bit he listened to her feeble pleas, her repetitive sorrys, her explanations. He didn’t mind anything that she had done. In fact, in the weirdest of ways he wanted to actually thank her. Somehow, in some way, she had triggered a caring side in him. Such a feat was nothing short of impossible beforehand, as only slight glimpses were visible from time to time. This was different. It was constant, a boon, a sensation that clung to his being. Even under the female’s feverish words, he would not let go. That much he was certain of.A small smile even coaxed its way onto his expression. Ah, that vulnerability again. Not just his own, but of the female’s as well. She seemed to be caring much more than usual too. There was no snarky attitude, no disheartened comments. It was all accepted, and he saw beauty in it. He saw beauty in her, and not just that lovely alluring body she had. Her appearance was incomparable, but he saw a glimpse of the female’s heart there for a fair time. It was something he wanted to see more of, maybe it would unlock a well of secrets between the two of them. That muscled arm of his was wrapped firmly around her body and it was far too easy for her to feel the curves of her body against him. Even in the tiredness the two shared she managed to be oh-so tempting. She was like an enticing piece of candy and he wanted her all to himself. The subtlety of his actions was probably nonexistent as he raised his arm up along the female’s body somewhat, accidentally cushioning it against the female’s large, plush breasts. Control, he had to maintain self control. It was still the middle of the night, the very tip of the morning. It was unarguable that they both needed rest.
But Demagol figured he had found a solution to the female’s words in the middle of her speaking them. The thought and execution of such were not tandem, but occurred about as unexpectedly as any of the Mandalorian’s recent actions. That muscled hand of his slid upward, absentmindedly putting ample pressure on the female’s breasts at the same time. But its path finalized upon the female’s jaw, which Demagol gently turned until she was facing him enough for him to claim her lips. “Shh..” It was a kiss to silence her, to reassure her. To ease that unsteady heart which beat inside of her caged chest. He did it because it felt right. To comfort her, even in her most embarrassing moments of weakness. That is what he was here for, now. The oddness the female showed didn’t bother Demagol in the least bit, but instead humbled him while fascinating him at the same time. He knew all too well his body was adorned with many..marks. He had to look at it every day. Practically relive the experiences which accompanied the placement of those marks again and again and again. In some of those marks there were lessons learned, in others there were tragedies made. Too many stories, too many trials. Some of those scars were even hidden by the tattoos on Demagol’s body, a vain attempt for him to cover up his past with a bit of ink. In some cases the ink was there for symbolism, in others it was to shroud his past. It never worked. Skin didn’t lie. Fingers could feel the difference in texture underneath the artwork. Memories never truly faded.
He had to save himself from this melancholy expression, and did so with the female. This kiss they shared was not an invasive one, at least the Mandalorian hadn’t made it so. The lips were pressed soundly together, almost romantic in nature. The movement of her body was not past Demagol’s thoughts. He noticed how she tried to get as close as she possibly could to him, even if that meant her plump rear would grind upon him in the process. He wouldn’t fight it, not at all. There was even still a small residual desire for her in the pit of his stomach as all of this ensued. Rhailo Destros was a mystery that Demagol wanted to figure out. She was just so fascinating. It wasn’t just the rarity of her case in general, or those special abilities she possessed. It was that soul tethered to her heart which truly interested Demagol. In his heart of hearts he knew one thing was definitely true; he had never made a better purchase before in his life. He wanted her to be more than his property though, more than just some soul attached to him by ball and chain. In time, he would want to make a companion out of her. It seemed plausible, completely doable.
Ah, how sweet every aspect of her was.
Her mistakes were overlooked, downsides the same. For now, Demagol focused only on the good when it came to the female. It was refreshing, and played a tune upon his heart that he may never be able to forget. He wasn’t angry with her, only concerned for her. Safety was a highly cared-for precaution now. In even the extremes now, he would place her well-being before his very own. Those blue eyes of Demagol’s opened just enough so that he could look upon the female as he kissed her, studying her at the same time through a gaze almost sultry in nature. He wanted to think it was just the sleepiness of his expression, not a sultry one though. The hand which held the female’s face palmed on her cheek for a second to feel her warmth, then slid back down and around her body. Thereafter he pulled her even closer to him so that she was comfortably cuddled to his muscled front. “Calm.. calm..” That’s all he wanted her to be. No more worries. No more embarrassment. No more woeful pleads. Just a calmness, a peace. Even in that peace though, if the female continued to grind her ass against his groin she’d find herself awakening the Mandalorian in more ways than one. He’d certainly hold her ass in particular to be responsible for it, too. Ah, if only the two of them had more sleep between them both. By his own decision he slowly parted his lips from the female’s and let his head rest back down again, granting her the control to do whatever she wanted with her body. “We cannot turn back time.. so I’ll like you more as we progress.” Indeed, she wasn’t bad in his eyes, at least not anymore. She was something else, something to be cared for.
Was this bliss? Had he found it with her?
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - Kat - 11-03-2015
Rhailo was in heat. This was one of the many reasons her ass refused to stop it's slow grind against the tight fabric keeping Demagol from taking her as he had in the shower. It wasn't even a conscious action, but one that came through carnal needs ingrained in her genetics. Call it the season for such debauchery, but every second he remained within short distance, the Auroun was finding herself more aroused. Perhaps she could have overcome the feelings after a moment of clarity, but this wasn't permitted, as digits dragged between her breasts languidly in ascension. Pushing against the mounds of shapely flesh in his efforts to move her features, the woman panted weakly and braced for what she thought might be another throat related episode. Only, this time, it wasn't anything so violent. On the contrary, lips moved inwards and brought a kiss down that she immediately lost herself in. Nipples peaked and legs shifted restlessly, sparking a newfound desire that wasn't quite so easy to smother.
Oh, how she wanted to taste him...
No. No, she wanted to express gratitude and something else. A feeling akin to lust, but not so... Lusty. Rhailo didn't know the feeling, but it was nagging at her thoughts with the continuation of the kiss. Her lips would part only slightly to allow her tongue space to move, to caress against his mouth to sate that desire growing in the pit of her stomach. Damn it all. He was being endearing, and all the Auroun could do was lower one of her hand achingly slow to squeeze between her tight thighs. There it sat, waiting, hesitant if he would allow her to even continue with the plan. But the more he pressed and pushed, the warmer she burned, and the inevitable came as her eager digits ran against newly slick folds. Gods, he got her so wet, it was almost unfair. The touching was discreet, perhaps missed through the duration of the kiss, but when Demagol broke free from Rhailo, her flushed face seemed to give her away.
Caught in the act.
Rhailo stopped her idle grazing, though one finger remained pressed between her slit, nestled mischievously over her clit. If she was quick, she could make up some excuse for her behavior, but there really wasn't anything that came to mind. Not when she met his gaze and saw it as sultry, rather than sleepy. The need to taste him returned, hunger for more than just his arm around her body demanding she do something. Anything to make him reciprocate the feelings. Why couldn't he just do what he had done before, and take her? Blinking a few times, the Auroun finally gathered her now coated finger from where it had been gathering juices. Without pause, it was lifted to run against his lips, prying them apart so he could taste her excitement. In that moment, Rhailo knew this was another way to push his buttons, but it had to happen. This wasn't done out of spite or malice. She didn't mean to make him suffer. Really, she just wanted him, and nothing he did made it any easier to wipe her mind clean of such thoughts.
"You could like me now.." The message was breathed, her voice a strange mingle of desire and desperation, smoky between panting inhales. "You did before, didn't you? So, you could again." Her other hand traveled along Demagol's side before it snaked inwards to rest over his sex, teasing the digits against the outline of his potential erection. Something behind her white hues flared to life, expressing a sense of longing he would soon some to realize was ingrained in her very being. An Auroun's libido was nothing to wave off. She had real instinctual demands that needed satisfying, and in him, she saw the means to find release. The palm against his covered shaft ran the body in slow strokes, only gripping when her fingers were able to wrap the head in her embrace. To feel him pulse against her hold made the woman all the more wanton. Her boldness wasn't natural, but somehow, when the need was so dire, it brought an entirely new sense of self over the creature.
"I want you so badly.." Rhailo admitted as her ass came to replace the affections of her hand, cheeks spreading so his cock could fit between them. "I know you want me too. I know it." Bliss would come when the demands of her cunt weren't screaming their reverberating pulses. Over and over. Fuck me. With the Mandalorian so close, it was almost implied he should already be doing as such, but Rhailo continued trying to persuade him. To make him see he wanted her, just as much as the woman wanted him; maybe even more. "I'm your property, right? You can do what you want with me.." The Auroun had no idea if that angle would work better than any other she had thrown out in her struggles, but perhaps it would strike the right cord and Demagol would left his guard down again. If the kiss was any inclination to his wants and desires, she was offering the male a whole new experience.
Just to be taken again by the rough, wild hands of her captor. In a sick way, she didn't want him tamed then. Just passionate. Lost in his reactions. Feral. All those scars and tattoos, every rippling muscle and rough limb. Slowly, Rhailo's eyes closed and she released a breathy sigh while her ass dragged his length teasingly between plump cheeks. "Please.."