DEDICATED HENRATURRA POST;

[vecna]

(( when the sun sets, we're both the same ))

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[vecna]

[Oh, Sprezzatura. He only asks for more because it's her, and not because he fantasizes about some feral girlfriend leaving him marked for days. There is a differentiating line, partitioned by actual love.

The sting, the pain, the pleasure. It's absolutely coalesced by now. He moans, squirms beneath her, rucks his fingers inside of her deeper, if she doesn't move again.]

Just like that. Proof that I belong to you.

[velluminous]

[ but when he says it like that, it does feel like he wants the feral girlfriend. she imagines it, sometimes: Henry nude and sprawled, oozing sticky blood from myriad mouth wounds left affectionately across his body. chest, arms, neck, shoulders, legs, hips. would he like that? to bleed with the force of her love?

he seems like the kind of man who would.

unmoving, muscles tensing in her thighs when he thrusts his fingers harder into her. so focused on the act of giving him exactly what he wants without betraying herself—the flat of her tongue presses over the bite marks she leaves behind. soothing the sting. he moans so nicely for her. exactly like she asked of him; more of those pretty sounds. ]

Arch your neck.

[ she moves up and seams her mouth to his throat again. a hard and suckling kiss, like an animal at its mother. ]

[vecna]

[We both know he'd love that. To bleed under the force of her love, to be torn apart by it. What better way to be fully subsumed by her passions?

Maybe someday.

But is this just a microcosm of the same thing? Where she bites him, she will leave pinpricks of teeth marks, a crescent curve. Where she tongues and sucks at him, in that same spot, blood vessels will break and turn dark just beneath his skin. He could wear a high collar and hide it for the days to come, by why would he? Henry wants this. Belonging to someone he actually loves is such a wonderful thing.

So of course he arches his neck. Chin tilted so that the whole line of it is there and exposed, so she can have the biggest canvas to work with. His fingers fuck her with a lazy, almost absent-minded rhythm, sometimes pausing just to cup her, to keep her risen and steady atop him.]

Ha...

[velluminous]

Good?

[ it goes without saying that it's good. everything she does is good. and now, with an entire expanse bared to her, she makes herself bite down harder: a reward for his pliancy. she feels tender, thin skin pinch between her teeth, how it seems to slip, to want to break under them. she holds, like that, barely able to breathe. it feels as if her heart is in her throat. hard to breathe.

what he does between her thighs barely a blip on her radar. she can narrow her focus incredibly well in that way, to nearly forget about the pleasure she was meant to chase because she is that concentrated on what gives pleasure to him.

even if the thought makes her queasy.

she presses her thumbs against the back of his neck.

and then there's a piercing. she breaks through, and nearly leaps out of his lap at the shock of it. ]

[vecna]

Perfect.

[Every moment and measure of it. Beneath those sharp teeth, his skin’s about the equivalent of vellum, under the mere mercy of every needle point fang. Stretched and pricked, but never punctured. Even that is a thrill—especially that—and Henry’s fingers are idly kneading at her tail, or inside her cunt, all mindless encouragement as he keeps his neck exposed.

And then.

A true sting. A bit of eking warmth beneath her mouth; pain, yes, but it relates so closely to what he’s already experiencing that he can barely differentiate. When his eyes shutter open, it’s not because of the bright sting, but because she’s practically jolted off of him.]

What? What is it? [Repeated uselessly. Those pinpoints at his neck throb with his heartbeat, and with room to investigate, he unwinds his hand from her tail and presses his fingers to his neck. Wet. Could just be saliva but—

When he raises it, he spies red. Blood.

…Oh. His heartbeat kicks up a notch. Oh.]

[velluminous]

No! I did not mean this!

[vecna]

[Bright red on his fingertips. Not even that much, but how stark it is against his skin.]

Sprezzatura...

[velluminous]

[ she collects herself, becoming tense and touchy ] What. You are always asking I bite.

[vecna]

[He is always asking that. And thus she should know that his fixation on his fingers is one of surprise, yes, but a deep, warming one that sends electricity rocketing through his nerves, and his breath hitching in his lungs.

Finally looks at her, eyes darkened with want.]

Yes.

[That's all he has to say, his bloodied fingers reaching out to cup the back of her neck (sorry for the smearing), and bring her down, quite fervently and without warning, for an impatient kiss. Hungry and seeking.]

[velluminous]

[ a deep kiss—yes, she should expect such things from him. even without the factor of her own intent, she's just given him something he has long wanted her to give, and in the most desirable way: through the loss of her own self-restraint. he pulls her to him and she whines into his mouth, every limb tense, her tail tuft puffed out, and her thighs hugging where she couldn't quite pull him out of her.

her mouth has the tang of him on it. ]

[vecna]

[Heated, heated, hungry kiss. He kisses like he’s trying to eat her up, and tasting the iron of his blood on her lips drives this point home. Every muscle of his tense, too, vibrating keenly like she’s injected him with more eagerness than before. He holds her so close, wants to fill every inch of her up. His hand isn’t enough.

He barely pulls away, messy murmurs, but very certain statements-]

Let me fuck you. Right here.

[velluminous]

[ that word in his voice never fails to surprise. ]

Mmh...

[ right here? she already said she didn't want that!

mumbling vaguely into the wet and slippery juncture of their mouths, so much tongue and teeth and saliva. Sprezzatura feels it spinning down from the corner of her mouth and collecting on the edge of her jaw. viscous, quickly cooling. the animal nature of that alone undoes some small margin of her restraint; her tail twitches up invitingly without a thought. they always do seem to feed off one another in this way. he can suggest anything to her and work her down to it eventually. even...

here, she pulls from his mouth and seams her own back to his neck. another bite—another puncture. forgetting to answer, or even to decide a yes or a no for herself. ]

[vecna]

[Right here. She said she didn't want it, but they break each other down all the time, unable to say no. Besides, despite her dislike of being quiet, he's sure he can make her manage...

The noise he makes when she punctures his neck again is stuttering, guttural, incomprehensible, and very, very approving. He nearly tosses his neck back more, would it not pull at his skin harder (though maybe that wouldn't be so bad, either...), and that lightning shock of arousal surges through him. The pain is nice, but it's secondary to the thrill, to the obscenity of it. He wonders how he tastes on her tongue, but he doesn't wonder long enough to ask.

She's not given him an answer, and he doesn't wait for it. She's gotten him too worked up now, and his hand slips from her cunt, wet and slick, and grasps onto her hip. His other does the same.

He flips them over, maybe a little clumsily, but with assuredness enough that she needn't even detach herself from his neck. Him on top, with his knees pressed into the cushions, and her below. If she allows for it, anyway.]

[velluminous]

[ oh—

blood in her mouth and the room moving around her. suddenly she is empty, more than a little dizzy, and being manhandled beneath him. suddenly, she is caged by his legs and body. her heart leaps into her throat and sticks there.

pulls out of his neck with a sickening sensation, to her at least, and tosses her head back on the cushions. ]

Henry—

[vecna]

[She has not bitten fiercely enough to describe his neck, now, as ribboning red. But it does welt where she's pierced him, and it does eke crimson. He can feel his pulse throbbing in each spot, and his nerves sing along to the rhythm.

One hand keeps him propped up against the back of the couch, practically hovering over her. His other is working at undoing his trousers.]

Turn over.

/2

[velluminous]

[ the sheer heat of this response?? ]

[velluminous]

[ she cannot help but chafe against the demand. on her stomach like a dog? yes, she's put herself in that position before, but always at her own inclination. the rustle of Henry opening his trousers sounds very loud. nearly aggressive.

besides...

she still wants— ]

I want to kiss more.

[vecna]

[She'd be able to prop herself up somewhat on the back of the couch. So not completely like a dog. :)

The vee of his trousers finally fall open, and he pushes them and his underwear down so that they puddle at his knees, revealing a not terribly surprising sight: his cock, stiff, its tip glistening and smeared.]

I'll kiss you wherever you want, as much as you want, after. I want inside of you first.

[velluminous]

[ stomach: somersaulting. no small amount is desire, but there is anxious anticipation, too. he had not been that hard before she bit him.

he really is a man, though. why can't they kiss while he's inside? because he doesn't want to say out loud that he wants her face down, hm? wants that bid for control. the feeling of mounting her—

(she throbs between the legs)

surges up and forces their mouths together. kissing NOW. ]

[vecna]

[Kissing NOW, it would seem. Their lips are already slotted together before he can do anything else, and it's not like kissing her is ever a displeasure. But she's very right: he wants her face down, he wants to fuck her like an animal in heat, and he's impatient for it. This kiss isn't denied, but it has all the traces of this — heat and hunger and even a little bit of teeth. The not-unpleasant frustration of what he wants being put off for a few seconds more.

But he does indulge her. For a few moments, their mouths practically clash in a back-and-forth of wants, and he can still taste the faint traces of blood on her lips.

Then Henry breaks the kiss, simultaneously rising up and his powers will simply try to turn her over with those many invisible hands, grasping, feeling just as impatient.]

Don't be impatient. [who's the impatient one here,] Spread for me.

[velluminous]

[ oh, yes, she squirms in that, writhing and twisting. not nearly enough kissing to satisfy her. ]

Impatient me?

[vecna]

[Invisible hands still present. Girl stop being wiggly.]

Impatient you.

[Can he just flip her in one go-]

[velluminous]

[ he can! though not without a cry that might as well wake the mushroom children ]

Mischief! Ne'er-do-well!

[vecna]

[Then he will, even if the children risk being woken up by a 'ne'er-do-well'.

But soon after, the warmth of his body seams just behind her—the heat of his cock so very prominently pressed against her inside thigh—as he leans in, reaching forward to clasp a hand around her mouth. Please do not wake up the children in possibly the most compromising position they could be found in.]

Shh. You will wake them up like that.

[velluminous]

[ maybe her brain shorts out when he does that, his covering hand at the same time as his voice at the same time as heat straining between her thighs. it's—erotic, yes, but not just because he has his cock out. Sprezzatura's breath whirrs hot through her nose and down over his palm; her tail lashes on the cushion seat once.

should she bite his hand? the arrogance of muffling her as though they were still in public. and would have covered her mouth, too, then? if she had... been able to let him take her in that crowd?

oooh... a plummet of heat in her stomach. his body so close to her mollifies, even if neither of them are fully nude, and Henry barely undressed at all. thoughtlessly she reaches down and between, takes his aching length in hand, and nudges it between her cheeks, so it leaks against her hole.

just... for a moment... ]