[Her grin pulls even wider. Love is not an unfamiliar feeling to her by a long shot, but it was typically reserved for experiencing it through the mortals that she watched from afar. It's not that she hasn't fallen in love before but it was fleeting and one sided and complicated - impossible between a god and a mortal despite her hearts intents otherwise.
But there's nothing complicated in the way Fjord smiles when he looks at her and - well maybe there's still the whole issue between gods and mortals - but that's for a later her to worry about. For now, all she can think about is the warm, fluttering feeling that fills her chest, fit to spill out. Her hands cup the sides of his face and she smiles and kisses him once, twice on his lips.]
Of course I get jealous, you're wonderful. And you make me feel wonderful. Like I have value beyond my divinity. [It sounds funny, when it's wrapped into a love confession, but there's a difference between devotion to a goddess and the sort of love that mortals share. Something that could drive a man into Tartarus just for a chance to see their beloved once more.
Sinking down onto the makeshift bed he made with his cape, she tugs him down to join her, never quite breaking those points of contact, kissing his lips, touching his face, his chest - that armor needs to go, and she finds the straps of his leathers. She tries not to ruin the soft, sentimental moment, although her motions push on the insistent side, and she grins.] Come here - my paladin. My love. Let me make love to you like we were in that world - on the beaches of your Menagerie Coast. Just a woman and the love of her life.
[ Following her lead and sinking to his knees between hers, he helps her undo the straps of his armour and toss it aside into the sand. He can only be bothered to yank his tunic over his head before his patience begins to run out and he has to prowl over her for another kiss, longer and deeper as if they have all the time in the world.
The love of her life.
He shoves his belted skirt off but leaves the laces of his leather pants for her, too busy helping peel off her dress with gratuitous caresses, tickling along her sides. ]
If this were Port Damali you'd have a crowd of admirers wherever you went, I don't know about privacy.
Port Damali. [She corrects herself, committing the name to memory.] The whole host of Mount Olympus could bear witness, and I would make love to you just the same.
[She wriggles her hips, moving her legs to help him peel the dress off - frankly he could rip it off of her for all she cared in the moment. Her fingers drop to the laces of his pants, pausing there to trace fingers over his stomach, the curve of his hip bones. It's a difficult balance, wanting to take her time with him, and feeling the urgency deep in her limbs that she wants him inside of her. As keenly as every time that they've been together, she wagers that they could lay together hundreds of times and she would still yearn for his touch. To explore him like it's the first time all over again.]
But I will not complain having privacy here. [She kisses his lips right where they curve over one of his tusks that peek out. The laces of his pants go quickly now, and she slips a hand in the slack of his trousers now, shimmying the fabric down just enough to free him.] I think you would have your share of admirers too, and I want you all to myself right now.
[ The breath that leaves him when her hand slides into his pants is a shuddering one of relief, cock pressing out of the laces and into her palm with a shallow rock of his hips. ]
All yours.
[ Braced on a bent arm beside her, he flips up her dress and aligns them without having to look, having done this more times than he can reasonably count nowadays. Fjord kisses her with a happy rumble-purr and guides her thighs up around his hips before pausing with the hot tip of his cock rubbing at her folds, slick with her former orgasm. It's torture for him but he wants to see the craving in her eyes again. ]
[The sand is warm against her back, through the cloak as she lays back on it, Fjord's body even warmer, their bodies already tangled together with her feet up in the air, legs wrapped around him and she whines when she feels him rubbing against her but not inside, where she wants him stretching her out like she was made for him.]
Fjord- [Legs around his hips, she uses them as leverage to lift her hips and rut against his cock, knowing that he's probably aching just as much as she is.]
Please. [She laughs at the desperation in her own voice,] Fates, I want you inside of me so badly. I have since the moment you walked into my temple.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wah soft
But there's nothing complicated in the way Fjord smiles when he looks at her and - well maybe there's still the whole issue between gods and mortals - but that's for a later her to worry about. For now, all she can think about is the warm, fluttering feeling that fills her chest, fit to spill out. Her hands cup the sides of his face and she smiles and kisses him once, twice on his lips.]
Of course I get jealous, you're wonderful. And you make me feel wonderful. Like I have value beyond my divinity. [It sounds funny, when it's wrapped into a love confession, but there's a difference between devotion to a goddess and the sort of love that mortals share. Something that could drive a man into Tartarus just for a chance to see their beloved once more.
Sinking down onto the makeshift bed he made with his cape, she tugs him down to join her, never quite breaking those points of contact, kissing his lips, touching his face, his chest - that armor needs to go, and she finds the straps of his leathers. She tries not to ruin the soft, sentimental moment, although her motions push on the insistent side, and she grins.] Come here - my paladin. My love. Let me make love to you like we were in that world - on the beaches of your Menagerie Coast. Just a woman and the love of her life.
softiesss
The love of her life.
He shoves his belted skirt off but leaves the laces of his leather pants for her, too busy helping peel off her dress with gratuitous caresses, tickling along her sides. ]
If this were Port Damali you'd have a crowd of admirers wherever you went, I don't know about privacy.
no subject
[She wriggles her hips, moving her legs to help him peel the dress off - frankly he could rip it off of her for all she cared in the moment. Her fingers drop to the laces of his pants, pausing there to trace fingers over his stomach, the curve of his hip bones. It's a difficult balance, wanting to take her time with him, and feeling the urgency deep in her limbs that she wants him inside of her. As keenly as every time that they've been together, she wagers that they could lay together hundreds of times and she would still yearn for his touch. To explore him like it's the first time all over again.]
But I will not complain having privacy here. [She kisses his lips right where they curve over one of his tusks that peek out. The laces of his pants go quickly now, and she slips a hand in the slack of his trousers now, shimmying the fabric down just enough to free him.] I think you would have your share of admirers too, and I want you all to myself right now.
no subject
All yours.
[ Braced on a bent arm beside her, he flips up her dress and aligns them without having to look, having done this more times than he can reasonably count nowadays. Fjord kisses her with a happy rumble-purr and guides her thighs up around his hips before pausing with the hot tip of his cock rubbing at her folds, slick with her former orgasm. It's torture for him but he wants to see the craving in her eyes again. ]
If you say please ...
no subject
Fjord- [Legs around his hips, she uses them as leverage to lift her hips and rut against his cock, knowing that he's probably aching just as much as she is.]
Please. [She laughs at the desperation in her own voice,] Fates, I want you inside of me so badly. I have since the moment you walked into my temple.