open rp post

[troubleyan]

🏹 texts/epistolary 🏹 prompts 🏹 ota*

* pssst if we've threaded together on bakerstreet, consider this an open invite

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[naharel]

Good girl.

[ Fen'harel is smug as he draws her close, letting his mouth draw down to her neck and scrape his teeth there. As he does, he pulls on her hips, dragging her onto his cock without hesitation or pause - and then he moans, low and needy against her skin, breathless before he shivers.

His nails dig into her body, and he begins to thrust, using his hold on her to move her body as much as she allows. ]

Wonderful...

[troubleyan]

Oh, fuck -

[ Mark her down as unfortunately very into praise kink and at his mercy.

Her head drops back to let him reach her neck as he pleases and the gasp she starts to let out as he scrapes his teeth against her sensitive skin turns into a heady moan.

Full - so full. ] So deep - oh gods, pleasemove- yes.

[ She grabs hold of him and holds on for dear life, one hand buried in his hair and one on his shoulder. ]

[naharel]

[ His lips curl into a smirk as he watches her, pleased and smug all at once, and his hands settle back down on her hips. He wants to mark her, to leave imprints of himself onto her skin. He wonders if she'll touch herself later and think of it, stroke her fingers against the marks and moan his name.

The idea of it makes him growl a little into her skin, hips thrusting up a little harder. ]

Anything, da'len. I will please you.

[ He grinds, shoving his cock into her, with an almost brutal pace. ]

[troubleyan]

You - ah - do -

[There is a certain degree of incoherence that follows, with those deeply satisfying and deeply brutal movements. He feels buried deep enough that might taste it, and she's almost instantly sure that this will wreck her for anyone else in the future.]

Oh, fuck - you fucking feral thing...haah - are you going to bite me? Mm? Fuck me into your pretentious furniture, come on, I'm - don't slow down, please don't slow down...

[naharel]

[ The chuckle comes out of him unbidden, dangerous, and her dares, her commands, leaving him wanting. If he wasn't already desperate to ruin her, to claim and keep her, the way she speaks to him would be enough to do it.

He's desperate, now, and his teeth sink into her neck as he moans. ]

Take your pleasure. Be a good girl and show me how you come for me.

[troubleyan]

[ A high, breathy whine escapes her as he gives that order, clamping tight around his cock, feeling the pressure build fast.]

Hah - oh god - [ The bite, it hurts but in a way that makes her filthy wet, nails pressed against his skin, raking up his back. It hurts in the best fucking way.

This will be a problem, later. Eventually.

Right now, it's sweet release, a moan filling the sumptuous room as she comes, frantically trying to ride him through it. ]

[naharel]

[ Her nails are small, but the way they did is perfect; it makes him groan. Perhaps she'll leave her mark on him for days to come, that when he returns to his bed he will feel the echoes of their pleasure.

Or maybe he'll simply keep her there, for his pleasure, to give and take from her as much as he pleases.

It's an idle thought (Fen'Harel does not keep slaves) that is immediately stolen from him as she comes, sharp and tight around his cock; his body leans back into his wide chair as he keeps thrusting, using her sensitivity to his advantage. It doesn't take too much longer for her to drag it from him, his groan low and deep as he holds her in place. ]

[troubleyan]

[It sends blood rushing to her head so fast her ears pop, as though she's taken flight on the back of a dragon and reached the peaks of the Anderfells too fast; he keeps thrusting, using her body for his pleasure, and it feels too complicated to explain why that precisely feels so damned good.

Heat surges again. She hears herself, the little gasps and moans that come out between thrusts, the way her cunt tries to clamp tight enough around his cock to not allow him to draw out.

Not long after, he fills her, and Evelyn lets out another heady, desperate whimper at the sensation of it, another round of begging on the tip of her tongue.

Then released,] Thank you, yes, fill me...perfect, you're perfect...

[naharel]

[ Oh, the games he might play with her - they're laid out in front of him like a bounty, a feast for the taking. She moulds to him so well, gives him what he desires, and he thinks he could take and take and have her wanton and desperate for him every single time.

He would gladly take it, and that is dangerous. If she has a more sinister game to play here, whoever she might be, then he will have to ensure she does not get to play it.

Leaning back, he lets his arms settle around her, holding her gently and letting his cock rest inside her cunt, content to find comfort there until they have recovered. ]

The pleasure was mine, da'len.

[troubleyan]

[She lets out a breathless laugh, resting her forehead against his shoulder. Her chest is still heaving from the intensity of that particular exercise, but rather than crash straight onto the massive mistake she's made, she floats in the ether of pleasure some more.]

Oh, a lot of it was mine, I'm sure...

[naharel]

[ Let her float, he thinks, enjoying the smugness of a good fuck. His hand rubs against her back gently, letting her take her time to come down from the high. ]

And it will continue to be so.

[troubleyan]

[She laughs softly, under her breath, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder like a satisfied cat.] Oh? In general or tonight? You strike me as an elf who'll keep someone in his bed for a few rounds, Fen'Harel, but this isn't a bed...

[naharel]

In general, tonight, tomorrow... You and I will entertain one another until we figure out your problem.

[ He leans in, stealing another kiss, long, slow and deep, humming softly. ]

Are you ready to move?

[troubleyan]

Mmm, sounds like a lush promise.

[ And if it's a threat, she's not seeing it as such. maybe she's taking advantage of the fact that he is interested in her.

Maybe she's just been fucked silly already and wants more of it. A spot in the world where she is neither Herald nor Inquisitor. ]

Where are we moving?

[naharel]

When your legs are prepared to work again.

[ He smirks, leaning close to draw his lips along her jaw, humming softly. ]

Or when you are prepared to allow me to clean you.

[troubleyan]

[She lets out a low laugh, breathless, letting her head drop back.]

Oh, you were so good right there that I'm inclined to let you move me wherever and however you want. I'm ready now.

[naharel]

[ He laughs softly, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close against his chest. ]

To the baths, then, before we rest.

[troubleyan]

Too right - clean the mess you've made. [ One of these days, her clever quips are going to get her in trouble. If not now, when? If not him, who?

The clever remark just slips out of her, even as she wraps her legs dutifully around him so he can pick her up. And how delightful, to be picked up so easily, too.

He's...deliciously tall. Deliciously everything, really.

In her delight of his physical presence, she forgets herself a little. Enough for her tenuous control to slip, and for the mark on her bare hand to glow, sparkles of electricity running up her arm from it - as if it recognises that there is no weakening in the Veil, because there is no Veil.]

[naharel]

Don't tempt me.

[ Fen'Harel would gladly sink to his knees and bathe her with his tongue if she asked it of him, but perhaps today has been enough. Another time, if she requests it.

The spark catches his attention, though, and his walk falters a little as he stares at her hand, his expression one of confusion. ]