Hushed Willows as spring opens (touching, skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose
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Ooc — Rosie Partytime
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✹☾❂
 
There it was. It was almost as if Eleuthera’s entire body heaved a sigh at the man’s very touch; melted and spread beneath him as if his nose held poison that disintegrated her into nothingness. She stood like this with him for many moments, a smirk simpering upon her maw, quite pleased with herself to have successfully placed herself under his ministrations once more. It was like a game she played with him, and she assumed he was unknowing — the lilac sprite did not know that he did these things very intentionally, to draw out the experience forevermore. Either way, they both won. 

As nice as it was to be touched by him, it also felt strange to her; strange to be touched by anyone in this way, really. She was an incorrigible flirt, she had been told, but so few times had she ever truly opened herself for man, metaphorically, that it was as foreign as it was welcome. Eleuthera was only thankful that Kincaid was warm, and steady, and felt of home. She felt safe under his arm — as if they could be there amongst the roses forever; as if war weren’t right on their doorstep. 

She allowed herself to be preened by him, pressing as many parts of herself into him as she could, wondering what he was thinking at moments such as these. Was he thinking about how perfectly divine things were? Was he thinking about his next adventure — or was he enjoying his current conquest? Did he want certain things of her, that he had not yet spoken of? Did she make him feel good? Did he only do this, because he was in pain?

As much as there was that Eleuthera wished to know about Kincaid, she voiced nothing. She pressed her face into his chest, which was swiftly becoming her most favorite place on his body, and held it there as she felt his strong musculature press into her fine-boned cheeks. He was all quickly becoming far too much for her to handle — his attention and interest — and she wasn’t sure where the right place to go, from here, was. Eleuthera did not want to disappoint him. She had already done that once today, and she had not liked it one bit.


“Oh, Kin,” Eleuthera sighed, reigning her head back and blinking up at him. “You must be completely starved.” This is what men wanted, right? A full belly, and warm body beside them at night? “Should we… go?” Eleuthera passed a glance over her shoulder, not entirely sure what she meant by that question at all. She wanted to go just as much as she wanted to stay, and she wished for him to push her farther just as much as she trusted him to know when she needed him to stop.
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

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RE: as spring opens (touching, skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose - by Eleuthera - July 30, 2020, 12:06 AM