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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Aug 11, 2006 9:41:22 GMT -5
I tucked the flechette against my palm, shielding her from the blade, as I put my hands roughly upon her hips and pulled her down hard upon my prick. Pleasure roared through me, making my head fall back and my eyes close, drawing a cry from my lips. I forced my eyes open again almost instantly … I couldn’t bear to miss a moment of her.
For few seconds, I could only shudder beneath her, pain, pleasure, dominance, submission, power, surrender, all lost and intermingled in the utter glory of her body wrapped around mine and the taste of her blood on my lips, wild and harsh and salty like the sea itself.
When I knew I could control myself, I brought the blade to her skin again, sweeping it over the swell of her breasts. It were sharp enough that even the lightest touch could bring blood and bring blood it did, flowing freely from long, shallow cuts until it came to rest against her heart again.
“I would sooner cut out your heart than watch you give it another to another,” I said unsteadily.
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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Aug 11, 2006 10:02:29 GMT -5
A deep, throaty laugh mixed with a moan of pleasure as he entered me and gave a sound of pure pleasure, body trembling slightly as the sensations rushed through me like a great wave that started in the sea-grey of his eyes and swept away all else. Torment and bliss- such a wonder when combined in these ways..
The cold of the blades and the flow of hot blood over my skin drew me back slightly as I forced myself not to writhe against my bonds in an effort to reach him, body trembling even more greatly from the force of my will working upon it. Small whimpering cries had replaced the laughter as I writhed my hips slightly against his. "Good," was the only statement I could gasp at his words as I felt pleasure sluggishly begin to rise.
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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Aug 22, 2006 9:03:56 GMT -5
“When you’re like this … you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I said, the words tumbling out of me on a series of gasping breaths.
I arched my hips, thrust up into her, feeling control slip as pleasure crashed over me like waves. While my hand was still steady, I cut through the knots that secured her and dropped the flechettes onto the beside table with a clatter. I rested my hands on her hips and urged her against me, my eyes locked on hers, as warily as one might watch a wild thing. Perhaps she was truly lost in pleasure and pain but having bound Sirena, it is wise to fear her retribution when you release her.
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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Aug 22, 2006 9:25:32 GMT -5
"I should hope," I managed to say, "That I am always the most beautiful thing you've ever seen."
With a quick motion I was free and my hands tingled as blood rushed back to them; knots binding me had to be tight or my small hands would simply slip free. Still, I couldn't help but smile in triumph; I was loose! His eyes on mine were cautious and the show of slight fear made my blood pound all the louder for it; my grasp reached his back and I dragged nails over the exposed skin, making up for time and pain lost while I had been unable to work my own will. Teeth found the skin of his chest and bit down harshly as I moaned in pleasure and moved my hips against his, awash in the taste and feel of him- my Tal who was so wonderful to me.
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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Aug 22, 2006 9:51:07 GMT -5
“Always, always,” I said, before her teeth and claws sank mercilessly into my flesh and the words were lost in a cry of pain, light dancing in my vision, blotting out, like an eclipse of the sun, the image of her cruel, triumphant smile.
Pain and pleasure rolled through me: two dancers, ever connected. Caught between the two, I could only shudder, my world awash in bronze. Our bodies were slick with sweat and blood, my movements arrhythmic and desperate against her. I tangled my hands in her hair and tore her roughly away from my skin, reaching up to kiss her bloodied lips.
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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Aug 22, 2006 10:02:23 GMT -5
My tongue gathered the taste of him from my lips just before they met his, a small smile playing over my features as my eyes glowed. His hands were tangled in my hair and I followed their urging, skin stinging from the marks upon it and coloring my world in bronze and red and orange in a feeling I revelled in as much as those not of my blood would relish joy or the muted colors of pure pleasure. The laughter that danced through my mind and gaze was like bells pealing and I could feel my love's movements losing all thought as he sank completely into the deep ocean of sensation. I wanted to tease, as my training bid me in times like this, but I was unable- I could only match him and hang on, doling pain and pleasure as my mind saw them float past.
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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Aug 27, 2006 11:07:35 GMT -5
I flung my arms wide, catching helplessly onto the mahogany bedposts as Rena rode me as wildly as a tempest, pain and pleasure surging in her wake, sweeping over me until I thought I would drown, and be glad to.
Sometimes she teases me, evades me, denies me … but there was no opportunity now, we were both too far gone in Kushiel’s haze. I felt tears gathering at the corners of my eyes, and I did know whether it was the pleasure or the pain that put them there. I managed to draw enough of myself back together to gasp her name before I lost myself entirely. Climax tore through me like claws, dragging the tears from my eyes and a cry from my lips. For those moments of joy my world contracted to nothing but Rena above me, her body tight around mine, and my own pouring itself into her.
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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Aug 27, 2006 13:14:42 GMT -5
His pleasure and mine- the only matter in which we could find some sort of simple accord between us and I only managed to stay silent by sharply biting my lower lip, body trembling as my eyes clouded. Slowly they drifted closed, wingbeats and heartbeats mixed in my ears until I couldn't even hear the sound of our breathing.
The smell of blood and the sting of wounds brought me back quickly enough and I ran my thumbs over his cheek, scooping up his tears and then licking them off of my fingers- it tasted like the sea. With a small smile I lay against his chest, head rested on his shoulder. "See, I did miss you."
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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Aug 27, 2006 18:40:16 GMT -5
I opened my eyes to the sight of her licking my tears from her fingers and smiled up at her, my body heavy and languorous in the aftermath of pleasure, the ghost of pain tugging at the edges of my senses. I released the bedposts and closed my trembling arms around her, holding her against me in this brief moment of peace. I took a deep sighing breath.
“I believe you. And I missed you – you’re my world. When you’re gone, there’s nothing.”
I eased myself into a sitting position, still clutching her against me, and smothered a groan. It was partly re-awakened pain and partly a reluctance to release her. “I need to clean those flechettes.”
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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Aug 27, 2006 19:01:13 GMT -5
Smiling and nodding in understanding I sat up as well, reaching out and running a finger along his jaw. Sometimes he didn't want me touching them and sometimes it was alright- still, I was content to ask this time instead of trying to just assume and paying for the consequences. Also, I knew how to do so gracefully and quickly as he did so the job would go faster. "You are every note of every song and all of the spaces in between- without you there is no music to the world. Would you like my help?"
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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Aug 28, 2006 4:59:45 GMT -5
I shook my head in a jangling of tousled braids. “It will not take me long. If you want to help, just lie there a little longer. I don’t get to see you like this enough.”
What did I mean? Post-coital and covered in blood? No. Mine.
I sat at the bottom of the bed with my clothes and oils and began, with painstaking care but the efficiency of practice, to clean the blood-stained flechettes, glancing up every now and again towards Sirena.
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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Aug 28, 2006 23:09:41 GMT -5
He was making a mental painting of me- well, I could at least make it worth remembering. I knew I was as lovely as any other Shahrizai in my own way and used that confidence and beauty to my best advantage, relaxing against the blood-streaked sheets that could almost have been trails in water My fingers on one hand trailed through the blood that was pooled on my skin and then, in a playful fashion, applied it to my cheeks in streaks rather like whiskers, then my lips. The other hand reached down and caressed the skin of my thighs with my fingernails, then up and over the cuts on my skin and into my hair, causing it to fall in waves of inky darkness.
His hands were quick and skilled by both training and the talent of Shahrizai blood and I watched them in return even as I primped, the muscles in his arms, shoulders and back moving slightly under his skin. Sometimes I almost had the urge to scratch so deeply that I could see the wonderful motion more clearly. Immediately my mind began to tell me how such a thing would be possible and I let the fantasies do as they would, knowing that it was enough- for now. Maybe the next time I won though..
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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Sept 5, 2006 10:15:05 GMT -5
I put the shining flechettes back in their box and closed the lid with a satisfying snap. The glitter of the blades winked out like falling stars. I threw myself down on my front on the bed, my arms crossed in front of me, my gaze travelling up and across Sirena’s beautifully displayed body. Even physically sated, desire never truly leaves me. It surges and recedes against like waves against the beach. Her fingers traversed her own skin teasingly … and it was me she teased, not herself. I uttered a soft murmur of frustration at the limitations of the flesh.
I couldn’t even begin to find the words to tell her how beautiful she was, all pale skin and red gashes, haloed in the darkness of her hair, and the promise of retribution in her eyes. So I leant over and dropped a kiss upon the delicate arch of her foot.
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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Sept 6, 2006 7:00:11 GMT -5
He wasthe sort who wished he never tired, but if he had been I probably would have exhaused him to death before now. The women's body was wonderful for the fact that it could take so much more and never be quite finished, though of course that was a torment in itself. It was wonderful to bring him the slight torment because I knew that there was nothing he could do to alleviate it, no matter how much he tried. The thought brough a smile to my face.
At his lips on my foot I bit back a giggle- being ticklish was simply NOT acceptable, broke the entire facade- and raised a brow. "Is there some reason you're lying across the foot of the bed like a lapdog?" Shifting and hiding the winces I moved to mimic his pose, lying on my stomach beside him. "Or is there something interesting over here?"
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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Sept 6, 2006 7:53:51 GMT -5
“There was,” I answered sharply, “but it’s gone now.” I rolled onto my back and then to my feet, the moment of tender intimacy completely shattered by her words. And probably for the best. We are safer locked inside our games. There are ways to mark a person that go far deeper than a blade against the skin.
“Lapdog,” I growled. “Then pray that one day I don’t take it into my head to turn on you.”
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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Sept 6, 2006 8:04:30 GMT -5
He was so quick to snap, to change sides in our private little love-war. "You seem to think that I would have no way to repel you should you decide to turn," I replied smoothly, shifting to lift myself from the bed and walk to the fireplace, willing to let my mind be absorbed in the lulling warmth and dance of the flames, letting my senses fill with them rather than think terribly hard about anything else. Picking up a fireplace poker I jostled the logs to watch the sparks dance, wishing for some joie to flick into the fire to watch it flare. When the ocean in his eyes rushed too quickly, I always had the flames to turn to.
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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Sept 8, 2006 7:35:28 GMT -5
Whenever she turned from me it was almost as if she took with her the very heat from my blood. Even though the room was warm, I shivered. Without her I’m like the sea, a vast icy emptiness churned by the storms of fate. She went straight the fire, as she always did. I did not need to see her to know how the flames would play across her pale skin, banding her glorious tiger-stripes of light and shadow.
I heard the crackle of logs beneath the idle strikes of the poker. I knew well enough the whip-sharp caress of fire across the skin.
“You’re in my room,” I said.
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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Sept 8, 2006 7:44:04 GMT -5
"And you're in my house," I answered faintly even as I stood, hot poker still in hand to turn and look at him. Words like those tended to inflame and anger him, but at the moment I was beyond caring; he pouted and threw tantrums as he always had- Father said is was because of his mother and stepfather- but I knew how to finish those moods. Maybe this time he would lose his temper completely. That was why I kept the poker in my grasp even as my eyes flashed chaotically- because he didn't think and sometimes he could overpower me.
With a sigh of resignation but no change in posture or expression I said, "If you so want to be rid of me, light a candle so I can have some good company on the trip to wash. I don't cavort with children."
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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Sept 19, 2006 10:30:45 GMT -5
I turned to find her outlined against the dancing flames, drying blood, and pale skin and flashing eyes … and the poker glowing with the steady power of a heartbeat in her hand. There must be a part of her that fears me, I don’t mean in the usual way that makes the heart beat a little faster and the pleasure more intense, but seriously enough to hold me at bay with a poker. At that moment it gladdened me … later it might not. But there was a dark kind of justice to it because I feared her, the loss of her.
Her words ran through me like flames and I plucked a set of wrought iron candelabra from where they rested upon the mantel and dashed them to the ground in the corner of the room. The unlit candles scattered.
“Walk in the dark,” was all I said.
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Post by Sirena Shahrizai on Sept 19, 2006 10:42:39 GMT -5
Smiling widely and sweetly I walked to where the candles had scattered and picked one up, walking back over to the fire with a proprietary sense of ownership for everything that came within my line of sight. Wax dripped in profusion into the flames as I lit the candle and held it in my hand, ignoring the heat of the droplets that fell onto my hands. With a careless gesture I thrust the poker as deeply into the fire as it would reach and left it there to heat red-hot, then raised a brow and walked quietly to the door and stood there thinking. Some others, the pallid City0folk and the soft of the country felt sated and happy in some strange and feathery way, but this was an enduring sort of burning that heated the blood. We were not the feather-soft sort, we two. "I expect you to find me next time, Tal. And do try to be respectful."
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Post by Talenon Shahrizai on Sept 20, 2006 9:04:26 GMT -5
I watched in silence as she left, the image of that single, contemptuously raised brow burned into my mind in a flash of red fire. In the flame-washed gloom, I slumped back onto the rumpled bed and flung an arm across my eyes. Her words danced interminably around me like heated needles.
I would have to go the Masque.
It would not win her favour back, but it would be a beginning.
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