Come Sail Away IC Inbox

[crushed_pearls]

Erin's voice mail message is in a weary voice: "Erin Peters. If you called in the middle of the night and I didn't answer, I'm dying. If I pick up and someone on your end isn't dying, they will be shortly. Text otherwise."

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[arrayerofrazors]

Her face drifts closer; teasing, it has to be teasing on purpose. Scenting and smiling, looking at 17's nudity with a decidedly satisfied air. Nudging her folds with just the tip of 44's nose, playful and ever-so-gently mocking.

"Mine," the darkling breathes at last.

Her licks are long and slow, at first. She keeps stopping to smear the taste of her new lover all around her lips.

[abhorrently]

Anticipation is its own form of winding the tension closer, and she feels 44's eyes on her as a physical weight. Touching her without touching her, keeping her from being able to do more than wait, and it's novel. There's a difference between the bonds the Village wants to keep her in, and the ones she submits to - in one, she is safe.

Hers, for now. And being hers means that 44 can hear the way Fever breathes in, out slowly, a little more ragged. Eyes drifting half shut, focusing on feeling. The unyielding stability of the altar, the warmth of 44's mouth. It's a good contrast, and she enjoys it thoroughly.