mapofstars | Say my name like a scripture (Keep my heart beating like a drum)

Say my name like a scripture (Keep my heart beating like a drum)

Skyhold is a quiet, an expectation at this hour, when Liaran approaches it, a lone figure with little more than the pack on his back and the staff in his hand. He needs little more in truth, the Dalish are all used to a hard life and more would only make the trek harder, many miles from the Free Marchers to the Orlesian boarder, all on foot. Halla are sacred, too much to be risked and horses cost coin he doesn't have. Feet are free and they have carried him well enough for the majority of this journey, even if it has taken many months.

But many months had already passed before he had even set out. In truth Liaran had not fully agreed with Istimaethoriel's plan to send Isetriel to this meeting of the humans. She was still a touch too reckless, stubborn as an ox and her tongue could still be biting. It would be better to send him, he had argued, but Istimaethoriel had only shook her head, her own voice as stubborn as it was soft. No, it was a test, to see if Isetriel was truly ready. To see if she would remain with the clan, or if she would be better leaving, seeking her own fortune.

It had been one of the few times Liaran had raised his voice.

But in the end it had mattered little. Isetriel had gone, and he had stayed and Isetriel had been dragged into this mess of human making. Lifted aloft with the title of Herald to their goddess, as if that wasn't a noose. He recalls staring at each mark of her letter home, the words an attempt to reassure, trying to find what was hidden. He knew Isetriel, better than anyone else. Was one of the few she had opened up to, and he knew, even if her words didn't say it, she was scared. Terrified, probably and that was enough to make his decision. Istimaethoriel could accept it, or she could learn to understand it, but he wasn't staying here, waiting for more news. He would go, see how she was at the very least.

Now, standing at the gates to this ancient keep her wonders if he should have sent a letter. Maybe, he thinks as he gives his name to the guard, makes his request. "I'm here to see the Inquisitor," he says, the title strange on his tongue. Here to see Isetriel, but no that is her name, a name he isn't sure she's shared with these shems and he won't give it till he's sure. And they march him up the stairs to wait in this great hall as they fetch her, it's late, she'll probably be sleeping they say and he has a moment of regret but no. It's worth waking her and Liaran nods, taking a seat on the stairs before this ridiculous throne. It's fine. He'll wait.

He'll always wait.

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Fuck, she feels so good against him. Better than his imagination ever could, better than any desire demon could tempt him with. She's real, soft and firm against him, a perfect fit and when her hips roll against his he shudders, breath catching in his throat and arms tightening around her waist. Fenedhis, she feels good and he finds himself achingly hard, much to his embarassment.

They're moving too fast, maybe. A confession of love is one thing but. This. It's late, she's probably sleep deprived and he's still on the thrill of finding her okay. And Creators, sure, he wants her, wants this, can imagine so easily the feel of her thighs around his hips, what it would feel like to fuck her against this stone but. He... they should thinking about this, maybe and it's with great pain that he pulls back with a little gasp.

"I-" He stutters the word, cheeks flushed and hair mussed and Liaran swallows, unable to stop looking at her. Her kiss swollen lips, the little red mark a nip of his teeth have left on her jaw, the way she's breathing so heavily and fuck he can feel his cock twitch. It's embarrassing to say the least as he swallows, searching for something to try and give them a moment to just think about this all. "I should... bathe."

Fuck, no, that's a terrible idea, just an excuse for bared skin and seeing her naked body again and he finds himself flushing darker with a soft groan, spinning around and his hands find the edge of the bath, Liaran leaning against it.

"I mean... I don't. I don't want to rush this, Isetriel." No, he wants it to be worth it. Wants to treat her like she deserves, at least for the first time, and that doesn't include rutting against a wall like beasts.

Her heart is pounding so hard and fast, and she's certain the beating could be visible even through her clothing. The feel of his hot breath brushing against her wet lips is too incredible, too satisfying, but it's not enough. What she would give to feel his naked body against hers, his cock hard and deep inside of her. And it seems so close to being possible, but he backs away and leaves her deeply releasing a shaken exhale.

Bathing... Yes, that was their initial intention. Though they have bathed together before, it was a common practice already among their clan. They've seen each other nude before, but not in a setting such as this. With passion and love being on the table for both to see.

It's painful when he breaks away from her, and Isetriel is quick to follow him and meet him at the edge of the bath. She is absolutely used to him turning her down, often while he is obviously uncomfortably aroused. But those moments occurred when she had started it. Now that Liaran has initiated it and made his intentions true, she can't simply let him walk away.

Isetriel laughs, leaning so she might see his face. "I'm not certain if your patience bears strength the likes of a druffalo or if you are a fool."

One hand takes to his, the one resting at the bath while the other takes to his face, ushering him to look at her.

"Only the creators know how many years I've practically spread my legs for you as an offering and you have turned away. What's to stop us now? I love you, Liaran. Whether we share that love against a wall, in a heap of filth, or in my bed, I will find it perfect."

Her adrenaline is still pumping far too much for her to back down, and she quickly slips herself between the bath and him. She reaches for the button of her own top, making short work of the first few.

"Or do you wish to see me beg?"

Edited 2016-02-05 04:50 (UTC)

He tries to think of other things, running mentally through what he recalls from their lessons. History and lore, herbs and spells, everything they must remember so the old ways aren't lost. Anything, to try and get himself under control, to calm his breathing and ease the stiffness in his cock as he stares into the water, corner of his lips turning up when she speaks, so close to him again.

"One of us had to learn patience." Not that he ever really had to learn, but really. He's the counterbalance to her, the shadow to her mirror and he knows many have found it funny, their roles and their chosen vallaslin. Just another mark on how much of a match they are he supposes, as he turns to face her, smile soft as he leans into the touch.

"I want it to be right, Is," To fit all that he's wanted to give her, to show her just how much he's always adored her. For it to be perfect and once that would have been a nice soft patch of grass, somewhere secluded. Now she has a bed, and surely that means he should take advantage of it, make their first time even better as he presses a kiss to her palm before her hand slips away. "You're no.... offering, to just be taken. You're more, so much more, Ma vhenan."

But she's undoing her shirt and really, he's only an elf. Only a mortal, and he lets her slip in front of him, arms bracketing her as he grips the tub and he chuckles, a rare sound as he presses his brow to her cheek, eyes half opened to watch from this odd angle as she revels more and more skin.

"Please, let me bathe at least. I doubt you want to taste the filth of travel on my skin."

Ma vhenen... Creators, the way he says that. As if it is so natural, so necessary. Isetriel's face flushes an even brighter shade, despite the deviousness that remains in her smile. It softens a touch at the nickname, however, and she can't help but feel flustered to it. If he so wishes for it to be perfect, then so it shall be. It isn't just for her, but she recognizes his selflessness for what it is, content that he is simply here.

She can't help but chuckle at his reply, knowing full well that he has always been her opposite counterpart. Liaran was always calm, calculated, and that has never changed. He's successfully talked her out of many brawls, and she almost wishes he could have been here sooner. She's handled so many fights on her own, and it would be a wonder to see how he could have reacted to the decisions she has made. Many were made in hopes of him catching word, of him being proud of her. He is, after all, her soulmate. Regardless of distance.

Still, she presses on. Even with the slight rejection, there is a glimmer of hope for after their bath. And he can absolutely count on her joining him for that. Isetriel loosens her final button before her top drapes off her shoulders and effortlessly slides from her arms and to the floor. She heard him, really, but surely he didn't think she wouldn't at least go for some foreplay.

"It never occurred to you that I may like it that way?"

She hums, chuckling in her throat as she leans forward to steal yet another kiss. It is brief, lingering just long enough for her to get back to work on his clothing. Isetriel reaches back and removes his staff, leaning it against the tub before working to push off his coat.

"I promise, I am only here to make sure you don't drown in my tub."

"You're the one that said I stink." He points it out in her usual no arguments tone, brow raised even as he leans down to meet her kiss. This is nice, this little intimacy of itself, where he can talk and tease her like he always has, but steal a kiss instead of denying himself such treats. He likes this, regrets the way she pulls away to continue helping him out of his clothes, his gaze momentarily dropping down her chest.

It's silly, he's seen her nude before, bathed with her. She's made a game of it before, seeing how slowly she could strip down, always catching him staring when he hadn't meant to be. But now with her standing here between him and the bath, in her breastband and trousers he's captivated, mind moving slower than ever has he shrugs coat and shirt off into a puddle on the floor.

"I'm sure that's all." A soft snort and he shakes his head, kissing her brow again as his hands find her hips, find the button to her own pants and he undoes it, gentle and slow as he tugs them down. "Nothing else could interest you of course."

His sarcasm is a softer sort than hers, a gentle teasing and he soothes the words further with his kisses, brushing them over her cheek bones as her pants slip down and creators, she's almost bare to him again, Liaran swallowing thickly, his words a mumble, "Creators, you're beautiful..."

"Perhaps I like how you stink," Isetriel argues with yet another chuckle, snorting before she realizes how ridiculous that sounds. It slipped from her, truthfully, and she's fully aware of how unattractive that may have appeared.

"I mean--" No, no there is no taking it back. Isetriel wrinkles her nose at that thought, but the expression is quickly abolished when he kisses her again.

She does, however, catch him staring at her chest, and it has her humming thoughtfully. Isetriel does much the same to his pants as he does to hers, making short work of the button before letting them drop into the heap they have created. And she is just about to make a devious remark of his staring, but his words stop her. Her lips part, eyes wide when they look to him. It isn't that he has never complimented her before, but... In this setting, this light, it shocks her. As if she has never heard it before.

Those three words changed everything so quickly, enough to give her whiplash. But there is shock and surprise in this that she has never felt before, a new feeling that brightens the darkness that has shrouded her in his absence. The Isetriel before all this might have teasingly worked at her breastband while staring at him. The Isetriel now can't bear to tease when he so fondly speaks of her.

"And so are you..." She replies, her words as soft as his own. Almost at a whisper.

Isetriel takes his hands, guiding them to her chest to let him take care of the remainder of her garments. The smirk to her expression melts away, fondness in her gaze when she reaches down to gently pull down his underwear.

"I've missed you so, Liaran. So much."

He laughs at that, bright and merry and Creators, she does sound ridiculous. Like a child arguing over eating their vegetables but it's funny and he holds her hips, keeps her close. It's so very her and he's missed it, missed her so much in the past months, a hole in his chest that he hadn't realised had grown so large.

"I know," he whispers when their kiss breaks, and he does. He knows what she means, and how she means it. Knows that she's wanted this for so many years, and now that he's giving her it she probably wants to grab it with both hands so to speak. She's probably afraid that he may pull back and mean it that time, decide he can't do this and they should stop. It must be a fear of hers and there's little he can do to ease it other than stay.

His smile is small as she speaks, his head bowed and hair curtaining around his cheeks. It sorely does need a wash, all of him does but she is a distraction, constantly pulling his thoughts away from tasks he should focus on. Especially when she guides his hands and Liaran swallows, touch light as his palms press against the curve of her breasts and he wets his lips, fingers settling against her sides. He can feel her ribs, can feel her heart racing and slowly he curls his fingers in the fabric, gentle as he guides it up and over her head, never looking away from her gaze.

"I know." He does, because he had felt it to. Felt the hole, the emptiness and longing for her, just the same and he shudders softly, gaze still fixed on her even as his hands find her bare hips. Stepping out of his pants is easy enough, and he can feel his cock curve hard against his belly, something he has to fight to ignore as his hands cup her ass, lifting her up with the plan to carry her into the bath. "I know Is, I do."

How she missed his laugh, his smile. Liaran is such a private man, quiet among others, but always showed this side of him to her. It never stopped being a treat, even now, and it makes her miss home all the more. But she realizes that he is her home, her harbor. But it makes her desires to return to the Free Marches so much more. She misses their Keeper, her family... Perhaps they are proud of her now?

But she will dwell on that later. It is difficult to focus on anything but Liaran when they are so close and in the midst of such intimacy. Isetriel raises her arms to allow the removal of her breastband, greeted by the cold air that brings goosepimples along her breasts and has her nipples hard and protruding. She shivers a touch, but is relieved by Liaran's warmth when he works to pick her up. His cock brushes along her ass in the shift, and she can't help the way she gasps at it, so eager to touch it... Taste it.

Isetriel is stubborn, but Liaran is certainly a special kind of stubborn. That arousal must be painful, but perhaps the warm water will bring him ease.

"Mm... Creators, you truly wish to wait, don't you?"

She knows he has made up his mind, and she is content once she is in the warm water. But still, what she would give to jump on that cock of his...

Her weight is easy in his hold, once he's gotten the right grip, once she's got her arms around his neck. Still he waits a moment, to gather himself back up before he steps into the tub because just the brush of her against his cock, the press of her breast, her nipples against his chest had him feeling lightheaded, had him considering throwing at all his plans. It would be easy, and she would be happy to do so but no. No, he had a plan. He was going to stick to that plan.

And the water is nice. The heat is perfect thanks to her, sinking into sore muscles and Liaran can't help his soft groan of relief, grip tightening on her for a moment before he starts to sink down into the water, mindful of her limps and his own body, of the ache he feels especially with her so close.

"I want it to be...." he sighs, shaking his head with fondness as he settles her in his lap, mindful to keep from holding too close. How to explain it really, when explaining means admitting how much thought he's given this. It's embarrassing, really, something he's not ready to confess and instead he shakes his head, dropping a kiss on one of her shoulders. "I want it to be right for you."

She's impressed, really. Once they are both fully seated in the bath, her legs straddling over him, cock prodding at her ass, he still insists on waiting. Isetriel finds herself growing far more eager over time, yet she is flattered all the same. He has clearly thought this through and imagined what their first time would be like... Wanting it not to just be perfect for him, but for her. Truly, he is a gem, and she cares so much for him.

That does not stop her from poking fun at him, of course. And Isetriel grins as she reaches behind him for a cup, certainly causing her breasts to dangle in his face while she does so.

"It has been decided: you are a fool."

She certainly enjoys the warm water, comfortable yet eager to get clean and out of here to move things along. Isetriel fills the cup with water, gently tilting it over Liaran's hair to rinse it, and she places an affectionate kiss to his forehead on the way.

"But you are my fool. I suppose I wouldn't have it any other way."

She might not see the face he makes, but he makes it anyway. A frowny sort of face because he knows what she's doing, that she's pushing, trying to make him crack. She's done it before and maybe her time away has made her forget just has stubborn his will can be when he chooses to stand by it. How stubbornly he can dig his heels in when he wants.

Instead of taking her bait he just looks away, gazes over her shoulder instead of her breasts and his sigh is soft. Another may mistake him for mad, but she will know he's fine, that he's comfortable and happy, here with her in his lap. Even with his cock hard and aching between them and she can have her fun, if she pleases. He won't begrudge her that, thumbs brushing patterns over her hipbones.

"Your fool, yes." A smile and he shifts, head tilting back and his eyes closed as she washes his hair. A small shift and he brushes a kiss against her throat, hands holding her steady as she works and Liaran sighs softly, fondly. "Always your fool, ma vhenan."

While she appreciates his considerate nature and the fantasies he has clearly had about her, she is certainly finding this a delightful challenge. Isetriel raises a brow at his refusal to her bait, but takes her time to at least wash his hair and clear it of dirt and oil. She gently massages his scalp, exhaling in content at the kiss he presses to her throat, but meeting him in the midst of her actions to at least steal a peck on his lips.

"I rather like this new nickname, you know."

He is certainly full of surprises this evening.

She is quick to finish his hair, lowering herself upon him once more where the water ripples around them in her motions. Wet hands take to his face, thumbs brushing along his strong jaw as she leans to whisper in his ear.

"I wonder what you will call me once you are inside me," she breathes, chuckling between her words.

They have never truly been this close, and it is certainly hard not to at least try.

It certainly is nice, her fingers in his hair, gentle as she cleans it. He's grateful that she doesn't tug too much, that the tangles seem to come free easily but most of all he's grateful that it's her. That he didn't lose his chance, that she isn't lost to him forever and that is worth all off the scalp massages and baths ever he decides as he meets her kiss, smiling softly against her mouth.

"It's the truth."

And why wouldn't he speak the truth. Now that he's finally admitted it at least and he leans into her touch, swallows as she lowers herself and he can feel the back of her thighs against his lap, his cock twitching with how close she is, breasts pressed to his chest and mouth so close to his ear that he shudders, fingers flexing on her hips.

"Who," he starts with, swallows and Creators, if he was younger he might think he was dreaming, that she was a desire demon come to tempt him. It's so very hard to focus with the water rippling around them, her hands firm on his jaw and Creators she is torturing him. "Who knows... Ma lath? Ma vhenan."

Her thumbs drag over his skin, cracking at his composure and softly he groans, her name said in his desperation. "Is..." This won't help at all, but he kisses her anyway, a hand moving to press at her back as he presses up, pouring all his want into the kiss. It won't help, not in the long run but right now he needs it, needs to press his tongue into her mouth, to taste her and let her swallow his soft moan, his composure fracturing.

He certainly is her exact opposite, isn't he? Trying so hard to maintain this composure and stance, striving to be sweet and gentle while she begs for something else. It is a game she has played with him since they reached maturity. Liaran is handsome, kind, and the only man to truly find potential and faith in her. How many times has he defended her honor? Fought to keep her within the clan even when other mages had been forged?

She can't help the smug chuckle that follows his composure cracking like weakened glass. It has always been this easy to make him stutter or come undone, but never in this way. With feelings placed on the table, tangible and visible, the entire game has changed.

And she can't find herself able to wait any longer. Especially when she feels his cock throb against her ass, eager and wanting despite what he says. The kiss says it all, and Isetriel uses it to her advantage. She returns the kiss again, equally passionate and needy, humming into his lips as she rolls into him. Her clit finds just barely some friction against his abdomen, needing far more when she aches so badly for him.

They will find out what he intends to call her soon, she thinks. And Isetriel reaches behind her to take hold of him, adjusting so his cock is trapped between her folds and-- Creators, the feeling of it merely pressing against her clit is enough to have her whimpering into his lips.

She will fuck him. Fuck him senselessly in this bath, but she will be just as calculated as he can be, ease him into it to at least show him this can be perfect too.

He's a wreck in truth. A few clever touches from her clever fingers and he's a ruin, caving and so close to giving in. It's only the few shreds of his pride that keep him holding on, holding back because he had made a decision, and he was going to stand by it dammit. No matter how good, how perfect she felt in his arms, her body pressed against his, his mouth against hers. He could stand a few more minutes, after years, months of waiting.

He could, but her hand find his cock and he near flinches at the touch, fingers pressing into the small of her back. "Fenedhis" another curse because there's little else that suits what he feels and Liaran shudders at how ragged he sounds, how desperate and needy he sounds as he clutches at her, cock throbbing in her hand.

"Ise, please," he manages, tongue feeling clumsy again, too thick in his mouth and he can feel her, slickness that is definitely not water against his cock and her whimper pulls at something primal within him, makes his hips jerk up into her grasp as he clutches at her, gasping softly and attempting to gather up his composure. "Please."

He's not sure what he's asking for in truth. Only that he finds himself entirely at her mercy, a fact he can actually embrace quite easily.

The way he jerks into her is all the encouragement she needs, the reaction certainly igniting something primal within her in turn. He's so gentle, so quiet, and such a reaction speaks louder than any word ever could. Coupled with his breathless pleas, Isetriel might melt into the water to never return again.

His curse makes her ears burn, delightfully so, and it has her blood pumping and skin prickling with heat. The bath is already so warm, and she is certain that the wetness that begins to trickle at her forehead is sweat, hardly water.

She takes his pleas as cries for her to move forward, despite what he had planned earlier. The way he squeezes at her hips, kisses her, speaks those volumes and she takes a moment to bite at his lip before moving forward.

"Haah--"

Isetriel rolls her hips back, reaching down with a sense of urgency when her pussy clenches in anticipation, painful with a pressure she can't rightly take anymore. She's quick, deft fingers grasping him once more to properly align him with her sex. Without word or warning she begins taking him in, head quickly throwing back when she feels him enter. She's tight, small, a stark contrast to his own size where it is painful, but it is a deliciously incredible pain.

"Liaran--" She cries, "Creators... Fuck."

For now, she is slow, hardly prepared to crash into him just yet when he the tip just barely makes its way.

He feels lightheaded, moreso than ever, made dizzy by the heat of this bath, and the burn he feels with her touch. Creators, she ruins him but it's a welcome feeling, so very welcome as she slides back and he feels he way she clenches before she's even taken him, bites his own lip hard enough to feel it sting, to taste blood as he fights to stay steady. He can't rush her, even if she's rushed him to this point and her soft cry digs at him.

It feels so good, Creators, better than it's ever felt. And she's tight, fenedhis she's so very tight but he knows he's a bigger man, and that was half the reason he wanted to go slow. To make her comfortable, to ease her body into this but she charges on like she always does, leaving him clutching at her hips, choking on his words.

"C-Careful, Ise, please." Please be careful. Please don't let her rush this, let her hurt herself in this and his hands tighten on her hips again as if that can slow her. Liaran shudders all the same, stuck between two different states, the tip of him hugged so tight by her pussy, the water still so warm around the rest of his length and he has to swallow again, almost shaking as he presses kisses over her collarbones to try and relax her. "Don't rush, don't."

His finger slide from her hip to press between them and they fumble for a second, trying to remember an old rhythm when he finds her clit. Something to try and ease the sting of it for her and it takes a second but it clicks and he swallows, trying to sound steady as he rubs the pad of his finger over her clit. "Don't rush..."

There is pain, but far more pleasure in it that he might initially think. Isetriel makes no rebuttal to his request, only offering a slight chuckle through a hiss as she slowly begins to lower herself onto him. Her hands take to his shoulders, nails digging moon-like crescents into his skin as he slowly fills her. She can feel him pulse inside of her, hot and wanting and it is the absolute best sensation she has ever experienced. He's so... Thick, gracing every little nerve inside of her where she shivers and moans without realizing.

"I'm fine," She finally says, albeit through trembling words. "I just..."

Need a moment. To adjust. And when the worst of the pressure leaves to make room for nothing but comforting pleasure, she loosens her grip on his shoulders. Isetriel lowers her gaze, shifting so she might steals his lips in yet another long, passionate kiss.

She loves him. Body and soul. Every part of her had yearned so much for him, for years and years and it had only grown painful through the distance between them. That love for him only grows once they have become one, and it is in that beautiful union that she feels the sting of tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. Isetriel takes a sharp inhale through her nose, still kissing him while her hands frame his face gingerly. Slowly, carefully, she begins to move, rolling her hips in lazy circles that cause the water to slosh and splash around them. Even slight friction destroys her, and the attention he gives to her clit makes her cunt twitch and loosen for him. There is a slight squeak from her once he is fully seated, and she can't help but roll into his gestures. The dual sensations are almost too much, and she trembles into him.

This is it. There is absolutely no turning back after this, and she certainly hopes he is ready for what is to come.

His attention is all on her, that keen stubborn focus that he has all turned towards her. The bite of her nails is ignorable, and if it helps her, grounds her who is he to try and stop her. Not when she feels so fucking good around her, so very tight and slick , each tiny shift of her hips making him shudder, eyes flicking shut for a second before he forces them open. He has to watch her face, look for any hint of pain because she will just try and push through it.

There's no rush. There isn't, because every second of this is perfect. She's perfect and he meets her kiss without hesitation, careful as his teeth tug her bottom lip, coax them to part so he can slide his tongue against hers, swallow her soft little noises, her breaths, his fingers still stroking over her clit. He can feel her clench and loosen, taking him slowly till her thighs meet his and only then does Liaran allow himself to relax, to let a shudder run through him as he gasps softly against her lips

"Creators, Is..." He can't think, pulse pounding in his ears and then she goes and shifts and the world breaks a little around him. She feels so good, and his fingers stay on her clit, his other hand on her hip guiding her. Encouraging her because he isn't sure what else he can manage right now, now that he's finally gotten something he's half dreamt of for years. Something he's always denied himself and fuck, the past him is a fool, an idiot because he could have had this, could have had her.

"Ar lath ma," he gasps, head turning enough so that he can kiss her palm, water starting to slosh more against the sides of the tub as he finally finds a rhythm. When to thrust up when she rolls her hips and "Fenedhis..." He breathes the curse against her palm, eyes closed because it's nearly overwhelming, everything he's ever wanted and it's right, it's so right. "Ar lath ma, Is, ma vhenan."

She feels as though she has waited eons for such a moment to finally happen, but Creators was the wait worth it. Liaran is so gentle, so soft, and every kiss has her heart racing and fireworks going off under closed eyes. Everything from the sounds of their bodies clashing to the water splashing over the rim of the tub has her shivering, hot and needy when him simply filling her isn't enough. Frantic hands take to his hair, tangling slender fingers through wet locks, tongues clashing through the kiss between hot puffs of air.

Isetriel picks up their pace quick, rolling into him with frantic desire that makes her breasts sway with every gesture. Once she relaxes, he fits so perfectly inside of her. The friction of his cock filling her coupled with his fingers expertly working her clit sends her entire soul on fire. Those three words that slip from his lips so naturally nearly kill her, and she presses her forehead against his. Their eyes meet, locking gazes where she wishes to see every little shift in his expression.

"I've missed you," She says again, breathless and through a moan that she can't fight.

She doesn't wish to be separated from him ever again. And if they remained this way? Isetriel would be forever satisfied.

Again, she kisses him, returning the proclamation of love through their lips. Isetriel raises her hips high, letting him nearly slide completely out from her before crushing back down onto him again. His cock strikes her sweet spot, hits her resistance, and it's a pressure that she could never get sick of. Isetriel cries out, loudly as the water splashes violently around them and she does it again. And again.

It certainly won't be long, especially when each thrust brings her closer to her undoing.

It's difficult to keep his eyes open, but for her he'll try. Even if the sight of her riding him is ruinous, makes his cock twitch and throb inside her he'll try and keep his gaze. But she really is beautiful, always has been to him, but is even more so. Everything about her is perfect, the way her cheeks flush, her lips parted just so and her eyes half closed. It makes him want to drive her to the highest peak of pleasure, fingers grasping at her hip as if that can somehow steady him, as if he can't feel his climax coming closer and closer and it's so very hard to not give in.

But no, no, not before her. Not till she comes and even as she moans, he bites his lip. Swallows and stiffens, his nod quick and jerky. "I know, I know, I miss-" he gasps, words a struggle and it's easier to just kiss her, to tangle his tongue with her and he can hear himself whine as she lifts her hips, higher than before, and no, no she can't leave him like this, she can't and his fingers must be pressing bruises into her hip but he can't bring himself to care.

"Fuck!" The curse is a shout, the sound driven out of him by the way she sinks so quickly back down on his cock and instinct drives his hips up to meet her. Fuck, he's losing it, breathing ragged and his fingers are starting to fumble on her clit, stumbling and stuttering as he looses himself more and more and his body feels like it's strung tight, coiled and waiting but no she has to come first, she has to but each lift and sink of her hips leaves him gasping, head bowed as he tries to focus, mouth struggling to make words. "Is- sath, please, crea-ahh, creators."

He won't last much longer he knows even as he groans, thrusting his hips up and his thumb presses firmer against her clit, not letting up for a single second as he rubs the little bump of nerves, desperate to try and bring her over before he loses it.

His loud shout nearly startles her, Isetriel always having been accustom to the quite intensity that Liaran has maintained all these years. But the shock of it makes this all the more intense, all the more attractive, and she wishes she could hear him scream more. He can't speak, and neither can she. Isetriel gasps against his lips, trying to form words that don't come out, especially when she repeats that very same action again and again.

The friction to her clit only helps drive each sensation further, and she clenches tighter each time their hips meet. Isetriel feels his fingers dig into her hip, his breath coming in shorter spurts and she knows he is just as close as her. Isetriel's head dips back in the break of their kiss, leaving a thin line of saliva to connect them. But the chord lives a short life, especially when a final thrust brings her to her breaking point.

"Fenedhis, Liaran--!"

One last time, her fingers clench around his shoulders, just as her pussy does around his cock. It clamps down on him hard, pulsations fast and frantic when she finally hits that point of bliss. Isetriel trembles violently against him, her face quickly burying itself in the crook of his neck while her arms wrap around him in a tight, desperate embrace.

The tremors that wrack her are unstoppable, her cunt tightening around Liaran's cock in a vice-like grip while her hips tremble and writhe against him. Her climax is so intense it's nearly horrifying, and she isn't sure when or if it will ever stop.

He can't manage more than a few quick thrusts when he feels her come, thumb pressed to her clit and fingers squeezing her hip to pull her close. He buries his cock in her, feeling her twitch and spasm and tight, fuck, she's even tighter now as she trembles against him that he's gone, he can't, and he comes with a quieter gasp, jerking against her as his cock pulses.

It's cliche he supposes to think that the world stops within an orgasm but this one he swears does make the world stop. There's nothing besides her, her heart racing against his, her breath on his throat and her pussy clenched so tight around him, as if she's trying to milk him of every last drop of his seed. Creators, it's intense, leaves him gasping against her shoulder, even as some part of him has to sense to ease off her clit, to wrap that arm around her and squeeze her to him.

But slowly things start to return. He can feel her more now, still trembling a little and he swallows. Can hear more now, his own breathing and hers, the gentle slosh of the water in the tub and he shivers. Idly his hand strokes up her spine, soothing her, or trying to as he slowly gathers his thoughts again and again Liaran swallows, brow pressed to her shoulder.

"Wow."

He is a man of simple words, yes.

How she could somehow feel him throbbing more, as if she is even more sensitive, is beyond her. Isetriel feels as though she has connected with Liaran in a way that they have melted together, became one. And, Creators, she could stay like this forever. The love she had for him has surprisingly increased ten-fold, and it is amazing to know that this man is still full of surprises after all these years. It makes her heart swell, her insides burn while her belly feels as though a bucket of ice water has been poured into it. His arms are so firm and comfortable around him, and for the first time in months she feels safe.

She misses their home, wishes they could do this again in a place they are better familiar with. While Isetriel still trembles in his grasp, she feels stable in his hold.

Liaran offers but one word, one word that seems to speak volumes of what they have just done. And she laughs, even through her tears that still flow freely from the corners of her eyes and pool at his shoulder.

"Agreed," She says, shaking her head a touch, "And you wanted to wait longer. I told you it would be perfect."

His breathing starts to slow to something more normal and within that change Liaran realises how easily he's slipped into the same pattern as her. How it feels like their hearts beat at the same pace, the same time, as if they're one and he finds himself smiling, the expression hidden against her shoulder. Creators, he loves this woman. Creators he's glad he came, didn't listen to their Keeper and stay where he should have. That for once he decided to follow love over duty and his arms squeeze her for a moment.

Lifting his head she's quick to smile at her laugh and quicker to notice her tears. It draws a frown to his face as he cups her cheek, all other topics forgotten as he brushes a thumb over her cheek, brushing away the wetness there. She's crying and it makes his heart ache.

"You're crying." An obvious statement, but it helps him think, to try and work out what is wrong as he shifts. "Is everyth- Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

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