Evan followed after the goddess as she led them through the open-air palace and out into the meadow, the air thick with memories of the past few nights. He grew a little melancholy wondering how many more times he'd be able to see these places, but with a heavy sigh he tried to shake that line of thinking off.
The goddess led him in a new direction out of the meadow, and soon enough the smell of grapes and wine wafted into the air around them in the wake of the heady memories they left in the meadow. Seemed they were walking through a vineyard, though Evan had never seen one before. He took in the sights curiously, though the goddess drew his attention back to her with a wicked grin over her shoulder. Evan cocked his eyebrow, watching with interest as the goddess led him off the path. She brushed aside some vines to reveal a cellar door which she opened and then led Evan through, descending down a staircase underground into a long corridor with shelves upon shelves of bottled wine. The goddess walked to a table with a bottle and canteen sitting on it. Evan guessed that the goddess might be thinking to pack some wine for the road, so to speak, but he was surprised by the way the bottle reacted to her touch - it shimmered and grew as the goddess caressed it, in a way that almost reminded him of how the succulents of the gate to the Underworld had bloomed for him. The goddess did indeed guide the bottle--plant?--to pour into the canteen, and when it was full, the goddess held the canteen out to him, the bottle-plant returning to its original shape on the table.
"They call it the best wine in the realm," she said.
Evan accepted the canteen with a freshly-cocked eyebrow, amusement coloring his expression as he thought on how many old wives' tales would advise strongly against partaking of this exact sort of thing. He was well past distrusting the goddess in that way, though. If she'd wanted to truly ensnare him, she'd had plenty of opportunities before this, and next to all the things they had done, some wine surely seemed among the most innocent.
"'They'?" Evan asked with a playful incredulity, but he did go ahead and indulge in a swallow. He wasn't much of a wine connoisseur--wasn't much of a connoisseur of anything, really--but he certainly had to grant that the taste was more than pleasant. Like dark fruit and earthy rain in a way that reminded him of the goddess herself, especially moments when his tongue caressed her neck.
He smiled and nodded approvingly as he held the canteen back out for her, having no intentions of over-indulging tonight.
"Certainly the best wine I've ever tasted," he added playfully, "though that's not necessarily saying much."
Part 1 (Start Reading Here)
Moderator: On Dreams And Desire
Re: Part 1 (Start Reading Here)
For a moment, the goddess thought Evan wasn't going to take the wine from her, and when he did, she smiled pleasantly, watching with a joy and pride that momentarily blocked out any thoughts of her son. And, if she were being honest, perhaps that was the subconscious reason for coming down here, for filling the canteen. She didn't want to think about Ponderance now, not while there was nothing she could do about it.
" 'They'?" Evan asked, but the goddess lightly shook her head and closed her eyes, wanting to sink deeply into Evan's internal experience of the wine on his tongue. He took only one swallow, and his mind pulled up associations that most closely matched with his own human experiences--dark red fruits and the way her neck tasted against his tongue--rich earth and after rain. That pleased her, and she found herself getting heady thinking about it. She could have him again here, in the cellar, if she wanted. But, no, there would still be time for that later, once they had completed their tasks for this evening, surely.
Before she had opened her eyes, Evan said, "Certainly the best wine I've ever tasted, though that's not necessarily saying much." The goddess frowned at that, dismayed that he hadn't had much experience to appreciate what she was offering him. But, then again, he was a little rough around the edges, and she did like that about him. Gods knew that entangling with kings had only brought her trouble.
Pushing one shoulder back in a subtle stretch and shrug, the goddess said, "The dark fae. They have elaborate, ridiculous parties, and they always try to bargain for my wine."
The goddess took the canteen back from Evan and raised it to her lips, enveloping Evan mentally in her experience. It was getting harder to pull him in the longer that it had been since they had been merged, but she was sure that he still felt strong whispers of her thoughts and sensations--the gentle burn of the liquid passing down her throat, images of the plump fruits and their bloody mash as it had been added to the wine, her fingers pressed into the dirt to encourage strong, healthy vines. And, one single drop of her own blood, so thoroughly mixed into the large batches as to be only a taste, a longing. She remembered the moment she bled into the batch in this bottle, pulling it up effortlessly. Before the king's bindings, before any mention of having a son, before Rorrim stepped foot in her realm. Fifty years ago when Dehaljadrun's realm was vibrant and fecund, the trees glistening with the moonlight and dripping with dew. She had opened this bottle to remember all this before she had met Evan, and it felt good to share it with him now, to help him understand her melancholy at how much had changed since her captivity. And so, she supposed, the melancholy of that nostalgia also flavored the wine.
Dehaljadrun looked at Evan then, bringing her body close to his and kissing first his temple then his cheek before brushing her lips the rest of the distance to his lips where their wine-coated skin met and mingled in a soft, still kiss. She licked his upper lip with just the tip of her tongue before pulling away and fastening the lid onto the canteen. She slung it over her chest and one shoulder, touching Evan's bicep shortly before beginning to walk back up the stairs.
((OOC: Happy to continue, but I felt that that gave Evan something to respond to.))
" 'They'?" Evan asked, but the goddess lightly shook her head and closed her eyes, wanting to sink deeply into Evan's internal experience of the wine on his tongue. He took only one swallow, and his mind pulled up associations that most closely matched with his own human experiences--dark red fruits and the way her neck tasted against his tongue--rich earth and after rain. That pleased her, and she found herself getting heady thinking about it. She could have him again here, in the cellar, if she wanted. But, no, there would still be time for that later, once they had completed their tasks for this evening, surely.
Before she had opened her eyes, Evan said, "Certainly the best wine I've ever tasted, though that's not necessarily saying much." The goddess frowned at that, dismayed that he hadn't had much experience to appreciate what she was offering him. But, then again, he was a little rough around the edges, and she did like that about him. Gods knew that entangling with kings had only brought her trouble.
Pushing one shoulder back in a subtle stretch and shrug, the goddess said, "The dark fae. They have elaborate, ridiculous parties, and they always try to bargain for my wine."
The goddess took the canteen back from Evan and raised it to her lips, enveloping Evan mentally in her experience. It was getting harder to pull him in the longer that it had been since they had been merged, but she was sure that he still felt strong whispers of her thoughts and sensations--the gentle burn of the liquid passing down her throat, images of the plump fruits and their bloody mash as it had been added to the wine, her fingers pressed into the dirt to encourage strong, healthy vines. And, one single drop of her own blood, so thoroughly mixed into the large batches as to be only a taste, a longing. She remembered the moment she bled into the batch in this bottle, pulling it up effortlessly. Before the king's bindings, before any mention of having a son, before Rorrim stepped foot in her realm. Fifty years ago when Dehaljadrun's realm was vibrant and fecund, the trees glistening with the moonlight and dripping with dew. She had opened this bottle to remember all this before she had met Evan, and it felt good to share it with him now, to help him understand her melancholy at how much had changed since her captivity. And so, she supposed, the melancholy of that nostalgia also flavored the wine.
Dehaljadrun looked at Evan then, bringing her body close to his and kissing first his temple then his cheek before brushing her lips the rest of the distance to his lips where their wine-coated skin met and mingled in a soft, still kiss. She licked his upper lip with just the tip of her tongue before pulling away and fastening the lid onto the canteen. She slung it over her chest and one shoulder, touching Evan's bicep shortly before beginning to walk back up the stairs.
((OOC: Happy to continue, but I felt that that gave Evan something to respond to.))
Re: Part 1 (Start Reading Here)
The goddess frowned and rolled her shoulder in a shrug, and Evan worried his comment about the wine may have landed the wrong way. He started to reach for something more suave that he probably could have said instead, but the goddess mercifully replied to his question, knowingly or not throwing him a rope to climb out of that spiral before it started.
"The dark fae."
Granted, this presented its own sort of spiral, mostly surprise. He wasn't sure what answer he'd expected; maybe he'd genuinely thought the goddess was using 'they' with no one particular actually in mind. But then, there was the question of: should he know about 'the dark fae'? He had some vague folkloric concept--including, come to think of it, some stories where, rather than a goddess, The Demon Queen was more like a faerie herself, but those weren't the stories Evan held onto. More importantly, had the goddess told him about the dark fae before and he just forgot?
"They have elaborate, ridiculous parties," she continued, "and they always try to bargain for my wine."
Evan let out a soft, airy chuckle. Something about the sort of debauchery that came to mind when he tried to conjure a dark fae party seemed a little gauche for the goddess on the face of it, but on second glance...
The goddess raised the canteen to her lips, and as the liquid graced her tongue, Evan's imagination drifted away from whatever fancy-dress orgy he'd started to conceptualize and towards his memory of the burn of the wine as it had passed down his throat--or, maybe, it wasn't his memory of it so much as the goddess' experience in the moment. Gods, he wanted to believe that.
In the taste and the sensation of the wine, Evan found vivid images of plump fruits rupturing into delectable bloody mash and he swallowed, watching the goddess' neck with a heady smile as she drank the wine down. Excitement fluttered in his chest when he thought of the goddess digging her fingers into the soil, encouraging the fruit to grow, and he felt sure that he was gleaning her thoughts and experiences, and pleasure buzzed through his body. The buzzing grew to nearly quaking when Evan realized the wine had contained the goddess' blood, albeit just a sliver of a tiny droplet. It didn't matter. That drop of blood had pulsed with the virility of the land, vibrant and glistening in the moonlight like succulent dew.
Longing bloomed within him, and Evan couldn't help the soft groan that slithered up his throat, even as melancholy bloomed with it; this was a memory from before, he realized. Before she had met Evan; before she'd been trapped; before the king had even set foot in her realm. It was nostalgic. And alongside the tragedy that Evan recognized in her loss of something that used to be, he also felt an ache of something he had never had. Shame colored his edges, sure that envy was about the last thing he ought to be feeling, but it all dissipated when the goddess stepped close to him again, utterly swept aside by elation as her lips pressed against his temple and filled him with bliss.
He reached for her hips purely instinctively, wanting to draw her even closer, and his own hips swayed towards her. Her lips caressed his cheek and then to his own lips, the sweet earthy taste of melancholic wine undulating through their kiss. Evan moaned, his entire body rolling with a wave of pleasure through the air still reaching for a fuller contact with hers. The very tip of her tongue caressed his upper lip, sending a shiver down Evan's shoulders, and then she pulled away, leaving him swaying in the air and reaching after her before he caught himself.
At least he had the wits to roll with the motion through his own self-consciousness, a congratulatory smirk lighting his expression as he brought the hand that had reached for her back to caress down his neck and over his collar bone while his hips finished a languorous figure-eight in the air. The goddess touched his bicep, pulling another breathy chuckle from him as he couldn't help following her lead back towards the stairs.
"It's potent," Evan said, his voice soft and rich and dark. He reached out and grabbed the goddess' hips more assertively, his hands quickly and firmly caressing up her sides over her breasts to reach the low collar line of her shirt as he pulled her back against him, the temptation of it flaring past his interest in keeping it at bay.
"The dark fae."
Granted, this presented its own sort of spiral, mostly surprise. He wasn't sure what answer he'd expected; maybe he'd genuinely thought the goddess was using 'they' with no one particular actually in mind. But then, there was the question of: should he know about 'the dark fae'? He had some vague folkloric concept--including, come to think of it, some stories where, rather than a goddess, The Demon Queen was more like a faerie herself, but those weren't the stories Evan held onto. More importantly, had the goddess told him about the dark fae before and he just forgot?
"They have elaborate, ridiculous parties," she continued, "and they always try to bargain for my wine."
Evan let out a soft, airy chuckle. Something about the sort of debauchery that came to mind when he tried to conjure a dark fae party seemed a little gauche for the goddess on the face of it, but on second glance...
The goddess raised the canteen to her lips, and as the liquid graced her tongue, Evan's imagination drifted away from whatever fancy-dress orgy he'd started to conceptualize and towards his memory of the burn of the wine as it had passed down his throat--or, maybe, it wasn't his memory of it so much as the goddess' experience in the moment. Gods, he wanted to believe that.
In the taste and the sensation of the wine, Evan found vivid images of plump fruits rupturing into delectable bloody mash and he swallowed, watching the goddess' neck with a heady smile as she drank the wine down. Excitement fluttered in his chest when he thought of the goddess digging her fingers into the soil, encouraging the fruit to grow, and he felt sure that he was gleaning her thoughts and experiences, and pleasure buzzed through his body. The buzzing grew to nearly quaking when Evan realized the wine had contained the goddess' blood, albeit just a sliver of a tiny droplet. It didn't matter. That drop of blood had pulsed with the virility of the land, vibrant and glistening in the moonlight like succulent dew.
Longing bloomed within him, and Evan couldn't help the soft groan that slithered up his throat, even as melancholy bloomed with it; this was a memory from before, he realized. Before she had met Evan; before she'd been trapped; before the king had even set foot in her realm. It was nostalgic. And alongside the tragedy that Evan recognized in her loss of something that used to be, he also felt an ache of something he had never had. Shame colored his edges, sure that envy was about the last thing he ought to be feeling, but it all dissipated when the goddess stepped close to him again, utterly swept aside by elation as her lips pressed against his temple and filled him with bliss.
He reached for her hips purely instinctively, wanting to draw her even closer, and his own hips swayed towards her. Her lips caressed his cheek and then to his own lips, the sweet earthy taste of melancholic wine undulating through their kiss. Evan moaned, his entire body rolling with a wave of pleasure through the air still reaching for a fuller contact with hers. The very tip of her tongue caressed his upper lip, sending a shiver down Evan's shoulders, and then she pulled away, leaving him swaying in the air and reaching after her before he caught himself.
At least he had the wits to roll with the motion through his own self-consciousness, a congratulatory smirk lighting his expression as he brought the hand that had reached for her back to caress down his neck and over his collar bone while his hips finished a languorous figure-eight in the air. The goddess touched his bicep, pulling another breathy chuckle from him as he couldn't help following her lead back towards the stairs.
"It's potent," Evan said, his voice soft and rich and dark. He reached out and grabbed the goddess' hips more assertively, his hands quickly and firmly caressing up her sides over her breasts to reach the low collar line of her shirt as he pulled her back against him, the temptation of it flaring past his interest in keeping it at bay.
Certainly more pleased with Evan's reaction once she had shared what the wine meant to her, the goddess entered a heady sort of bliss, fueled partly by the slowly developing effects of the wine sitting low and hot in her belly. Before she managed to gain the first step, Evan pulled her back against him, his skin warm and flushed, as his hands gripped her hips and redirected her motion. His hands wasted little time in sliding with heavy pressure up toward her breasts and the loose, flowing collar of her shirt, pressing her already extravagant cleavage further out of the garment.
With any of her thralls, she might have been annoyed and may have even punished them, but this flare of Evan's desire for her, after she had reminded both of their bodies of what it was like to merge, felt real and intense and authentic, and Dehaljadrun wondered whether the effects of the wine had begun to hit Evan as well. She erupted into a full-faced smile and was grateful that her back was to Evan.
"It's potent," he whispered behind her, and she wanted so desperately to turn back around, shove him onto one of the tables, and take him again, a thrill running up her body from her tailbone to the top of her spine.
"It hasn't even fully hit you yet," the goddess said in a low, velvet tone, a flash of memory of her dragon's scales sliding up and down Evan's thighs bursting into her mind and into Evan's. She liked this, this spontaneous sharing of potent experiences. It felt natural and right, especially with Evan. She didn't want to hide anything from him.
But, the melancholy of memory and soured nostalgia began to catch up with the goddess, and she searched for what had gone wrong, pulling to mind Evan's reaction to her own experience of drinking the wine. There was a feeling of loss--no, of absence--that she struggled to understand. Was he... jealous of her godhood? Well, she couldn't fault him for that. Who hadn't been? But, no, it felt a little deeper than that.
What did he want? It felt surprisingly out of reach, which frustrated the goddess and tempted her toward demanding that Evan drink yet more wine.
But, they did have a task to accomplish.
The goddess wrapped her arms around herself, pulling Evan's hands even closer and squeezing their limbs together. Gods, she wanted to get rid of this separation between their bodies again. She thought about it--thought about tracking down a demon inside Evan's body, moving him in the ways she wanted--but something about that felt... uncomfortable somehow. She didn't want Evan to be along for the ride; she wanted him to be able to act... and witness.
She then raised one of his hands to her mouth and bit down with moderate pressure on his first finger, the sudden craving for his blood as it rushed toward the stimulation momentarily flooding both of their minds. Gods, why did she wait this long to give him some of what she had made?
Because you've been at each other's throats incessantly until now, she reminded herself.
Finally, allowing herself some small pleasure, she pinched a tiny section of skin between her teeth and tore it, puncturing the skin so she could suck from his finger. She moaned and leaned back into him then, the blood and pain only encouraging her hunger.
But, she managed to let go, knowing that, even if some drops of blood fell to the floor, her saliva would close Evan's small wound soon enough. But, the memory of pulling Evan's stitches out with her teeth flashed like lightning through her memory, potent enough to pull Evan's own experience of it to mind as well.
"When all this is over," she said breathlessly as that memory began to fade, "I want more of you. I want to bask for hours in the light of your bliss."
The goddess pulled away from Evan, walking up the first step and then the next, trying to catch her breath.
With any of her thralls, she might have been annoyed and may have even punished them, but this flare of Evan's desire for her, after she had reminded both of their bodies of what it was like to merge, felt real and intense and authentic, and Dehaljadrun wondered whether the effects of the wine had begun to hit Evan as well. She erupted into a full-faced smile and was grateful that her back was to Evan.
"It's potent," he whispered behind her, and she wanted so desperately to turn back around, shove him onto one of the tables, and take him again, a thrill running up her body from her tailbone to the top of her spine.
"It hasn't even fully hit you yet," the goddess said in a low, velvet tone, a flash of memory of her dragon's scales sliding up and down Evan's thighs bursting into her mind and into Evan's. She liked this, this spontaneous sharing of potent experiences. It felt natural and right, especially with Evan. She didn't want to hide anything from him.
But, the melancholy of memory and soured nostalgia began to catch up with the goddess, and she searched for what had gone wrong, pulling to mind Evan's reaction to her own experience of drinking the wine. There was a feeling of loss--no, of absence--that she struggled to understand. Was he... jealous of her godhood? Well, she couldn't fault him for that. Who hadn't been? But, no, it felt a little deeper than that.
What did he want? It felt surprisingly out of reach, which frustrated the goddess and tempted her toward demanding that Evan drink yet more wine.
But, they did have a task to accomplish.
The goddess wrapped her arms around herself, pulling Evan's hands even closer and squeezing their limbs together. Gods, she wanted to get rid of this separation between their bodies again. She thought about it--thought about tracking down a demon inside Evan's body, moving him in the ways she wanted--but something about that felt... uncomfortable somehow. She didn't want Evan to be along for the ride; she wanted him to be able to act... and witness.
She then raised one of his hands to her mouth and bit down with moderate pressure on his first finger, the sudden craving for his blood as it rushed toward the stimulation momentarily flooding both of their minds. Gods, why did she wait this long to give him some of what she had made?
Because you've been at each other's throats incessantly until now, she reminded herself.
Finally, allowing herself some small pleasure, she pinched a tiny section of skin between her teeth and tore it, puncturing the skin so she could suck from his finger. She moaned and leaned back into him then, the blood and pain only encouraging her hunger.
But, she managed to let go, knowing that, even if some drops of blood fell to the floor, her saliva would close Evan's small wound soon enough. But, the memory of pulling Evan's stitches out with her teeth flashed like lightning through her memory, potent enough to pull Evan's own experience of it to mind as well.
"When all this is over," she said breathlessly as that memory began to fade, "I want more of you. I want to bask for hours in the light of your bliss."
The goddess pulled away from Evan, walking up the first step and then the next, trying to catch her breath.
Re: Part 1 (Start Reading Here)
"It hasn't even fully hit you yet," the goddess replied, and an uneasiness bloomed in Evan's stomach; sparks of fear and defensiveness--some, he knew, echoing forward from his past. He didn't drink much at all--anymore--and he wondered with some trepidation whether he should have turned down even the small drink he'd taken, knowing they had a task yet to accomplish.
Thankfully, he was swept away from those thoughts, elation washing through him and cleansing his body of any hint of constriction as he recalled riding on the goddess' dragon--could feel her scales against the fabric of his pants, friction and electricity palpable between them. His hand nudged the goddess's shirt aside and caressed his hand down over her beast, his tongue snaking out to lick the edge of her shoulder blade in excitement.
But then he felt that falling sensation from when the goddess had dropped his scale in the meadow. He grabbed tightly at her breast and bit down on her back, almost as though clinging to the edge of a cliff. Melancholy was flooding him again, and he felt the goddess prying, looking for the envy that had bloomed in Evan's mind. He absolutely did not want to go the places that inquiry would go. He was deeply grateful, then, when the goddess seemed to withdraw easily from that, instead squeezing her arms over his hands on her breasts and pulling him close, reigniting both their attentions back within their bodies again.
The goddess drew Evan's hand from her blouse and bit down on his finger, and Evan shuddered with relief. He felt the goddess' longing for his blood, and he salivated recalling he'd had at least a small taste of the goddess' blood in the wine.
All at once, the goddess' teeth pinched and tore at the tip of Evan's finger, and he gasped as the shock of pain ricocheted up his captive arm when she drew blood. A languorous groan spilled from his throat as he relaxed into the sensation, though, his body nearly collapsing forward against the goddess as she pulled blood from his finger into her mouth, onto her tongue. Gods he felt like he could revel in that sensation for hours, but the goddess kept it brief. As she pulled his finger from her mouth, he swam in the heady, thrilling terror he'd felt as the wound at his side spilled open for her, his blood on her lips as she'd ripped his stitches from his flesh.
"When all this is over," she said breathlessly as that memory began to fade, "I want more of you. I want to bask for hours in the light of your bliss."
"Fuck yes," Evan whispered against her back, his mind wandering back to the bliss they had shared on the lounge, all tangled up in each other and still tapped into the joyous colors and glimmer of that place by the waterfall they had visited.
Then, all too soon, the goddess pulled from him entirely, and Evan reached after her with one hand, the other catching him against the wall to keep from toppling down entirely.
Warring temptations tugged at him--to let himself slide down the wall and collapse in a puddle, give in to the dizzying, overwhelming memories and sensations of offering her his blood, his arousal, his climax, anything she wanted; or, to lunge after her, pounce her right here on the stairs and rip that blouse from her breasts, just for starters.
Instead, he remained glued to the wall, a frustrated groan scratching at his throat as his body tensed, anger rising that there was still this looming task. Even with that, it was tempting to let the goddess be the one to be responsible--surely it was well within her power to fight him off if he continued trying to pull her down. But, some sense of embarrassment pulled at him and swam through his mind alongside the wine; he didn't want to be a lightweight. He didn't want to be something she had to fight in order to do what had to be done. He wanted to be a capable asset to her, and that seemed to mean fighting through the haze that the goddess and the wine conspired to produce within him.
To that end, Evan slid his free hand up under his shirt and dug his nails into his chest, eagerly dragging them down across his ribs and his side to his hip, the sensation sending a refreshing clarity rushing through him. He sighed with some relief, and fixed his newly-crisp gaze on the goddess as she walked up the stairs.
"I can't fucking wait," Evan replied. His voice was quite a bit more breathless than he would have liked, but he did manage some playful bravado in spite of it.
Thankfully, he was swept away from those thoughts, elation washing through him and cleansing his body of any hint of constriction as he recalled riding on the goddess' dragon--could feel her scales against the fabric of his pants, friction and electricity palpable between them. His hand nudged the goddess's shirt aside and caressed his hand down over her beast, his tongue snaking out to lick the edge of her shoulder blade in excitement.
But then he felt that falling sensation from when the goddess had dropped his scale in the meadow. He grabbed tightly at her breast and bit down on her back, almost as though clinging to the edge of a cliff. Melancholy was flooding him again, and he felt the goddess prying, looking for the envy that had bloomed in Evan's mind. He absolutely did not want to go the places that inquiry would go. He was deeply grateful, then, when the goddess seemed to withdraw easily from that, instead squeezing her arms over his hands on her breasts and pulling him close, reigniting both their attentions back within their bodies again.
The goddess drew Evan's hand from her blouse and bit down on his finger, and Evan shuddered with relief. He felt the goddess' longing for his blood, and he salivated recalling he'd had at least a small taste of the goddess' blood in the wine.
All at once, the goddess' teeth pinched and tore at the tip of Evan's finger, and he gasped as the shock of pain ricocheted up his captive arm when she drew blood. A languorous groan spilled from his throat as he relaxed into the sensation, though, his body nearly collapsing forward against the goddess as she pulled blood from his finger into her mouth, onto her tongue. Gods he felt like he could revel in that sensation for hours, but the goddess kept it brief. As she pulled his finger from her mouth, he swam in the heady, thrilling terror he'd felt as the wound at his side spilled open for her, his blood on her lips as she'd ripped his stitches from his flesh.
"When all this is over," she said breathlessly as that memory began to fade, "I want more of you. I want to bask for hours in the light of your bliss."
"Fuck yes," Evan whispered against her back, his mind wandering back to the bliss they had shared on the lounge, all tangled up in each other and still tapped into the joyous colors and glimmer of that place by the waterfall they had visited.
Then, all too soon, the goddess pulled from him entirely, and Evan reached after her with one hand, the other catching him against the wall to keep from toppling down entirely.
Warring temptations tugged at him--to let himself slide down the wall and collapse in a puddle, give in to the dizzying, overwhelming memories and sensations of offering her his blood, his arousal, his climax, anything she wanted; or, to lunge after her, pounce her right here on the stairs and rip that blouse from her breasts, just for starters.
Instead, he remained glued to the wall, a frustrated groan scratching at his throat as his body tensed, anger rising that there was still this looming task. Even with that, it was tempting to let the goddess be the one to be responsible--surely it was well within her power to fight him off if he continued trying to pull her down. But, some sense of embarrassment pulled at him and swam through his mind alongside the wine; he didn't want to be a lightweight. He didn't want to be something she had to fight in order to do what had to be done. He wanted to be a capable asset to her, and that seemed to mean fighting through the haze that the goddess and the wine conspired to produce within him.
To that end, Evan slid his free hand up under his shirt and dug his nails into his chest, eagerly dragging them down across his ribs and his side to his hip, the sensation sending a refreshing clarity rushing through him. He sighed with some relief, and fixed his newly-crisp gaze on the goddess as she walked up the stairs.
"I can't fucking wait," Evan replied. His voice was quite a bit more breathless than he would have liked, but he did manage some playful bravado in spite of it.
Re: Part 1 (Start Reading Here)
"Fuck yes," the goddess heard him say behind her after they had broken contact, and she cracked a smile. She could feel his mind calculating what to do next, whether to intervene with her plans to move on or not, and she was pleasantly surprised that he chose--was able to choose--not to give into his impulses. Gods, yes, the wine was coming in handy after all; she was training his resistance even without intending to.
She gasped then and had to reach a hand out to the wall to steady herself as pain shot across her chest in ragged stripes, and it took the goddess a few moments to recognize what had happened. Evan, in an attempt to clear his mind, had reached under his shirt to rake his nails down his chest, and she had felt residue of it. What was initially shock and even a flash of fear turned quickly to a greedy hunger for more. She truly did love the way he resisted her and himself.
"I can't fucking wait."
Dehaljadrun looked over her shoulder at Evan and smirked as she stood up straight again, curious if he had any idea what had occurred. She thought he might, and--gods help her--she couldn't help from hoping he would use it against her.
Finally, she made it out of the stairwell, taking a moment to readjust her blouse from where Evan had disrupted it, and walked away from the vineyard toward a dense copse. The goddess tried not to feel a pang of guilt in her chest from having sucked so much of the life out of the area they began traveling through--the trees cracked and singed as though they had been burned. And, in a way, they had been. She had consumed them, used them up until only charred skeletons remained, almost menacing against the darkening lavender of the sky.
But, as they moved further into the denser part of the forest, the trees grew more fertile, their dark purple leaves sparkling in the moonlight.
"It would be a miracle if the dark fae haven't snatched up your soldier by now," the goddess said by way of small talk as she gently pulled some branches apart to make more of a path for the two of them. She was talking quietly now, only loud enough for Evan to hear, as they were nearing their prey. "They reside here, but I don't control them," the goddess said, attempting to preempt some of Evan's questions while her eyes searched for brushed ground.
She gasped then and had to reach a hand out to the wall to steady herself as pain shot across her chest in ragged stripes, and it took the goddess a few moments to recognize what had happened. Evan, in an attempt to clear his mind, had reached under his shirt to rake his nails down his chest, and she had felt residue of it. What was initially shock and even a flash of fear turned quickly to a greedy hunger for more. She truly did love the way he resisted her and himself.
"I can't fucking wait."
Dehaljadrun looked over her shoulder at Evan and smirked as she stood up straight again, curious if he had any idea what had occurred. She thought he might, and--gods help her--she couldn't help from hoping he would use it against her.
Finally, she made it out of the stairwell, taking a moment to readjust her blouse from where Evan had disrupted it, and walked away from the vineyard toward a dense copse. The goddess tried not to feel a pang of guilt in her chest from having sucked so much of the life out of the area they began traveling through--the trees cracked and singed as though they had been burned. And, in a way, they had been. She had consumed them, used them up until only charred skeletons remained, almost menacing against the darkening lavender of the sky.
But, as they moved further into the denser part of the forest, the trees grew more fertile, their dark purple leaves sparkling in the moonlight.
"It would be a miracle if the dark fae haven't snatched up your soldier by now," the goddess said by way of small talk as she gently pulled some branches apart to make more of a path for the two of them. She was talking quietly now, only loud enough for Evan to hear, as they were nearing their prey. "They reside here, but I don't control them," the goddess said, attempting to preempt some of Evan's questions while her eyes searched for brushed ground.
Re: Part 1 (Start Reading Here)
Evan was momentarily worried when he saw the goddess leaned against the wall, and realized he'd heard a gasp from her lips when he'd been busy raking his own nails across his skin. Were they already going sideways yet again? How?
But no, the goddess looked over her shoulder with a delectable smirk in short order; either she was putting on quite the show, or she'd enjoyed whatever had just happened, and Evan rather liked to think the latter. Had it been because of his nails on his skin? Gods, he found he hoped so--the alternative seemed to be that he'd missed something, and anyway, weren't they rather entwined in their experiences at the moment? Why should it go only one direction?
The goddess started moving again before Evan could devise any sort of scheme about it, and he followed after her with a low groan in the back of his throat. Perhaps that was just as well, so they could get on with what needed doing. His fingers practically itched with the desire to bite into either of their skin, but he followed the goddess out of the cellar and through the rest of the vineyard on his best behavior, instead choosing to focus on observing how the wine seemed to be affecting his perception of and movement through the world as they walked.
His attention was drawn back to the goddess, though, as he could swear he'd felt a pang of guilt. It was muted and distant, and he wasn't entirely sure it hadn't been in own, about something nebulous or other, but he couldn't shake the impression it had come from her. When he followed that thread, he found his attention returning outwards into the trees--the way they looked cracked and charred as though ravaged by flame. Evan thought of the flames he'd seen at the summoning--and in the memory the goddess had found in him the previous night. He wasn't sure what it meant if she'd done this to these trees, and he wasn't sure he wanted to ask; much as he was enjoying them sharing, he wouldn't much like her going after his own pangs of similar-feeling guilt, so he was rather content to let this one lie.
Eventually the trees started to liven, growing more dense and lush, nearly sparkling in the moonlight. Evan was allowing himself to get a little lost in their beauty when finally, the goddess spoke, startling him out of it with a brief flush of embarrassment.
"It would be a miracle if the dark fae haven't snatched up your soldier by now," she said, and it took Evan's mind a while to catch up. He'd nearly forgotten about Raccoon, and for half a second was strangely terrified she'd meant Xavier, though another wave of embarrassment hit him at that.
"They reside here, but I don't control them," she went on, and even that filled him with confusion. Was she trying to say that she didn't control Raccoon in the same way she'd controlled the thralls before? That, did kind of seem to be the case, come to think of it, but, on second examination, he was pretty sure she meant the fae. Evan felt curious about the fae and the demons and how all these beings coexisted in this place, but he couldn't find the words for a coherent question. And, what would it mean if the fae snatched up Raccoon, anyway? Did it even matter; hadn't Raccoon signed up for whatever befell them at this point? Evan's cheeks burned with an echo of the anger he'd felt when Raccoon had forced him through the portal suddenly, and the jealousy he'd felt when Raccoon had been with the goddess before.
"Don't you need them--my soldier?" was what apparently made it out of Evan's mouth, his eyebrow raised as he matched the goddess' hushed tone, and yet another question filled his mind as to why they were talking about this now of all times.
But no, the goddess looked over her shoulder with a delectable smirk in short order; either she was putting on quite the show, or she'd enjoyed whatever had just happened, and Evan rather liked to think the latter. Had it been because of his nails on his skin? Gods, he found he hoped so--the alternative seemed to be that he'd missed something, and anyway, weren't they rather entwined in their experiences at the moment? Why should it go only one direction?
The goddess started moving again before Evan could devise any sort of scheme about it, and he followed after her with a low groan in the back of his throat. Perhaps that was just as well, so they could get on with what needed doing. His fingers practically itched with the desire to bite into either of their skin, but he followed the goddess out of the cellar and through the rest of the vineyard on his best behavior, instead choosing to focus on observing how the wine seemed to be affecting his perception of and movement through the world as they walked.
His attention was drawn back to the goddess, though, as he could swear he'd felt a pang of guilt. It was muted and distant, and he wasn't entirely sure it hadn't been in own, about something nebulous or other, but he couldn't shake the impression it had come from her. When he followed that thread, he found his attention returning outwards into the trees--the way they looked cracked and charred as though ravaged by flame. Evan thought of the flames he'd seen at the summoning--and in the memory the goddess had found in him the previous night. He wasn't sure what it meant if she'd done this to these trees, and he wasn't sure he wanted to ask; much as he was enjoying them sharing, he wouldn't much like her going after his own pangs of similar-feeling guilt, so he was rather content to let this one lie.
Eventually the trees started to liven, growing more dense and lush, nearly sparkling in the moonlight. Evan was allowing himself to get a little lost in their beauty when finally, the goddess spoke, startling him out of it with a brief flush of embarrassment.
"It would be a miracle if the dark fae haven't snatched up your soldier by now," she said, and it took Evan's mind a while to catch up. He'd nearly forgotten about Raccoon, and for half a second was strangely terrified she'd meant Xavier, though another wave of embarrassment hit him at that.
"They reside here, but I don't control them," she went on, and even that filled him with confusion. Was she trying to say that she didn't control Raccoon in the same way she'd controlled the thralls before? That, did kind of seem to be the case, come to think of it, but, on second examination, he was pretty sure she meant the fae. Evan felt curious about the fae and the demons and how all these beings coexisted in this place, but he couldn't find the words for a coherent question. And, what would it mean if the fae snatched up Raccoon, anyway? Did it even matter; hadn't Raccoon signed up for whatever befell them at this point? Evan's cheeks burned with an echo of the anger he'd felt when Raccoon had forced him through the portal suddenly, and the jealousy he'd felt when Raccoon had been with the goddess before.
"Don't you need them--my soldier?" was what apparently made it out of Evan's mouth, his eyebrow raised as he matched the goddess' hushed tone, and yet another question filled his mind as to why they were talking about this now of all times.
Re: Part 1 (Start Reading Here)
The goddess felt waves of Evan's confusion as he tried to understand what she was talking about. She saw a pang of fear as he thought first of Xavier, which frustrated the goddess. Would he worry about her the same way? Yes, actually, she knew he would. He had been genuinely terrified to learn that she had been injured and had done everything he could to rejuvenate her.
Evan formed strong attachments all right.
"Don't you need them--my soldier?"
She smoothed some inner hackles and considered Evan's question.
Without much thought, she responded, her voice still hushed as the forest around them darkened even further. "They've already been useful, haven't they," the goddess said flatly. "I'll find them again when I need them. The fae know they aren't any match for me, but they enjoy getting on my nerves. Good for gossip, apparently." But the wine was settling deeper and deeper into Dehaljadrun, making her heady and hungry all over again. She knew the same was surely happening for Evan, and she didn't want to keep talking about Raccoon when she had Evan so close.
She wondered briefly about the value of temporarily splitting her awareness in two to go after Raccoon—she hadn’t had cause, or the energy, to do it in a long while—but she wanted her wits fully about her to make the cloak. And she was greedy for Evan’s company. Too little of her wanted to leave him for that to work.
“Besides,” Dehaljadrun said, pausing abruptly to turn and push Evan quickly and painfully up against a tree, her breasts threatening to burst from her shirt and the closed canteen of wine sloshing to one side on account of the rapid movement. “I’m thoroughly busy with you.” She kissed him, then, hungrily, the taste of the wine still heavy on his lips as her tongue searched his teeth and her body pressed eagerly into him. Her hands ran up and down his hips in time with the movements of her tongue as she soaked in the intoxicating feedback loop of Evan’s pleasure as it hit her body, her pleasure as it hit his body, and back again.
Moving from his hips, she wrapped her arms around the thin tree trunk and used it as leverage to pull herself closer to Evan, pressing their bodies even more firmly together and crushing his ribcage just enough to make it difficult to breathe. Her own breath was ragged between kisses, her teeth biting at his lower lip.
And then she brought her hands back from around the tree and grasped either side of Evan’s neck, sending a strong lightning shock between her hands and down through Evan’s body. She grasped him tightly but had to break away from the kiss as his pain rolled through her and filled her with magic and relief and glee. The goddess was truly beginning to feel like herself again after… after everything. Gods, she didn’t ever want this to stop.
Evan formed strong attachments all right.
"Don't you need them--my soldier?"
She smoothed some inner hackles and considered Evan's question.
Without much thought, she responded, her voice still hushed as the forest around them darkened even further. "They've already been useful, haven't they," the goddess said flatly. "I'll find them again when I need them. The fae know they aren't any match for me, but they enjoy getting on my nerves. Good for gossip, apparently." But the wine was settling deeper and deeper into Dehaljadrun, making her heady and hungry all over again. She knew the same was surely happening for Evan, and she didn't want to keep talking about Raccoon when she had Evan so close.
She wondered briefly about the value of temporarily splitting her awareness in two to go after Raccoon—she hadn’t had cause, or the energy, to do it in a long while—but she wanted her wits fully about her to make the cloak. And she was greedy for Evan’s company. Too little of her wanted to leave him for that to work.
“Besides,” Dehaljadrun said, pausing abruptly to turn and push Evan quickly and painfully up against a tree, her breasts threatening to burst from her shirt and the closed canteen of wine sloshing to one side on account of the rapid movement. “I’m thoroughly busy with you.” She kissed him, then, hungrily, the taste of the wine still heavy on his lips as her tongue searched his teeth and her body pressed eagerly into him. Her hands ran up and down his hips in time with the movements of her tongue as she soaked in the intoxicating feedback loop of Evan’s pleasure as it hit her body, her pleasure as it hit his body, and back again.
Moving from his hips, she wrapped her arms around the thin tree trunk and used it as leverage to pull herself closer to Evan, pressing their bodies even more firmly together and crushing his ribcage just enough to make it difficult to breathe. Her own breath was ragged between kisses, her teeth biting at his lower lip.
And then she brought her hands back from around the tree and grasped either side of Evan’s neck, sending a strong lightning shock between her hands and down through Evan’s body. She grasped him tightly but had to break away from the kiss as his pain rolled through her and filled her with magic and relief and glee. The goddess was truly beginning to feel like herself again after… after everything. Gods, she didn’t ever want this to stop.
Re: Part 1 (Start Reading Here)
"They've already been useful, haven't they," the goddess replied, and a fresh flare of jealousy burned at Evan's back and chest. "I'll find them again when I need them. The fae know they aren't any match for me, but they enjoy getting on my nerves. Good for gossip, apparently."
Sounded annoying. The fae, and Raccoon. Despite his efforts to stay rooted in the darkening forest with the goddess right now, Evan felt himself drifting back to those moments outside the palace, watching from afar as the goddess and Raccoon made their first exchange. Some absolutely inane voice in the back of Evan's mind worried suddenly that he had nothing left to offer her, like he'd somehow spent the whole of it getting to the waterfall, filling him with dread that he'd never get there again. Gods, he fucking hated how easy it was for him to fall into such godsdamned chasms.
Luckily, the goddess pulled him right back out, shoving him suddenly against a nearby tree, the surprise and the scrape of bark through his shirt anchoring him back in his body. The goddess pressed herself against him, her breasts nearly bursting from her blouse, the slosh of the wine canteen echoing in his periphery as its inertia echoed the goddess' movement.
“Besides,” she said, “I’m thoroughly busy with you.”
Relief washed through Evan when she kissed him, thoroughly dissipating the shadow that had tried to swallow him just moments before. Of course he had plenty still to offer her--Underworld aside, he would never stop longing for her, never stop clawing for that waterfall, and surely that alone was enough. He drank in the taste of her as their tongues danced, his hands rubbing over her sides as she caressed up and down his hips. She began to wrap her arms around him, and he very fluidly followed suit, embracing every ounce of closeness she would give him. Even once she started squeezing, sparking a vague thrumming panic in his lungs as they struggled to expand under her pressure, he found it hard to care, just as long as her body was against his and the taste of her suffused his senses.
Her teeth bit at Evan's lip and he shuddered, gasping for breath as she released her pressure around him, even as he clawed at her back as though to beckon the constriction back around him. He calmed slightly as her hands grasped the sides of his neck, sending a surprising bliss through his body, followed promptly by a jolting shock that rattled through him. A panicked cry bloomed from deep in his belly, unable to temper itself by any vague notion he might've had that they'd been talking quietly. For that moment, the forest didn't exist anymore; hardly anything did besides that shock, and the hands against his neck.
It subsided soon enough, though, and Evan gasped as he came back into himself, heaving heavy breaths and blinking unexpected tears from his eyes. He felt happy, though. Elation suddenly bubbled up from his chest and he laughed--maybe at the absurdity of it, but absolutely with joy. His eyes found the goddess' once he collected himself just a bit further, and one more sigh exhaled from his body with a sense of serenity and relief. He felt himself wanting to pull her down to the ground, to do some of that basking she had mentioned, but he stopped himself, begrudgingly remembering once again that they still needed to accomplish something tonight.
"So," he said with a groan, forcing a grin. "Was that part of getting our demon, or...?"
Sounded annoying. The fae, and Raccoon. Despite his efforts to stay rooted in the darkening forest with the goddess right now, Evan felt himself drifting back to those moments outside the palace, watching from afar as the goddess and Raccoon made their first exchange. Some absolutely inane voice in the back of Evan's mind worried suddenly that he had nothing left to offer her, like he'd somehow spent the whole of it getting to the waterfall, filling him with dread that he'd never get there again. Gods, he fucking hated how easy it was for him to fall into such godsdamned chasms.
Luckily, the goddess pulled him right back out, shoving him suddenly against a nearby tree, the surprise and the scrape of bark through his shirt anchoring him back in his body. The goddess pressed herself against him, her breasts nearly bursting from her blouse, the slosh of the wine canteen echoing in his periphery as its inertia echoed the goddess' movement.
“Besides,” she said, “I’m thoroughly busy with you.”
Relief washed through Evan when she kissed him, thoroughly dissipating the shadow that had tried to swallow him just moments before. Of course he had plenty still to offer her--Underworld aside, he would never stop longing for her, never stop clawing for that waterfall, and surely that alone was enough. He drank in the taste of her as their tongues danced, his hands rubbing over her sides as she caressed up and down his hips. She began to wrap her arms around him, and he very fluidly followed suit, embracing every ounce of closeness she would give him. Even once she started squeezing, sparking a vague thrumming panic in his lungs as they struggled to expand under her pressure, he found it hard to care, just as long as her body was against his and the taste of her suffused his senses.
Her teeth bit at Evan's lip and he shuddered, gasping for breath as she released her pressure around him, even as he clawed at her back as though to beckon the constriction back around him. He calmed slightly as her hands grasped the sides of his neck, sending a surprising bliss through his body, followed promptly by a jolting shock that rattled through him. A panicked cry bloomed from deep in his belly, unable to temper itself by any vague notion he might've had that they'd been talking quietly. For that moment, the forest didn't exist anymore; hardly anything did besides that shock, and the hands against his neck.
It subsided soon enough, though, and Evan gasped as he came back into himself, heaving heavy breaths and blinking unexpected tears from his eyes. He felt happy, though. Elation suddenly bubbled up from his chest and he laughed--maybe at the absurdity of it, but absolutely with joy. His eyes found the goddess' once he collected himself just a bit further, and one more sigh exhaled from his body with a sense of serenity and relief. He felt himself wanting to pull her down to the ground, to do some of that basking she had mentioned, but he stopped himself, begrudgingly remembering once again that they still needed to accomplish something tonight.
"So," he said with a groan, forcing a grin. "Was that part of getting our demon, or...?"
Re: Part 1 (Start Reading Here)
As she clung to Evan in the aftermath of the shock, the burn of Evan's fingernails stung her back pleasantly. She loved each and every place their skin touched, any place there was pressure between them. Though Evan's cry at the surprise of the shock had surprised her and perhaps made what they had intended to do more difficult, she could not begrudge herself for instigating it.
She very nearly wanted to say to hell with the cloak.
Almost.
"So, was that part of getting our demon, or...?" Evan asked playfully, and the goddess smirked at him but decided not to give him an answer. At least, not yet. Instead, she held Evan close, gently laying her head on top of his unruly mass of hair as she expanded her awareness curiously. How far had Evan scared the other creatures away? There was little life around, but she could detect faint signals of movement and light underground--there must be a cave nearby.
Knowing that Evan may have caught flashes of her expanded awareness, the goddess opened her eyes and looked at him curiously, smiling. Gods, he was beautiful in his cocky bliss. She wanted nothing more than to keep at it with him, tangle with him in whatever way possible, and she intentionally sent several images of exactly that directly to him complete with a wash of her own desire for his body pressed around hers but then broke contact altogether, moving away from him and beginning to search for the cave.
"No. You keep distracting me," she said with playfulness in her tone.
She searched the ground and kept her awareness spread wide like a net about the area, leaning into the topography of the land as she did so. Finally, she came to a jagged rock outcropping. If she hadn't been looking for an entrance, she might have missed it as it was just around one edge of the stone face as it jutted out from another part of the short cliff. The opening was only large enough for a single person to walk through at a time. Placing a hand on the sharp rock that served as the threshold, the goddess turned toward Evan and said, "We're here. Stay close to me."
She then pulled up the container of wine where it lay against her hip and poured a small trickle over what would become their doorway. It dripped with the thickness of blood down the sharp, dry rock on either side of the sheer wall. Then, the goddess closed her eyes and took another drink of the wine as echoes of the sensations from before--the lavishness of her world, the melancholy of the past--flooded and motivated her once again. This was one more step along the long path to getting free, and she could do this. They could do this together.
Handing the canteen to Evan, the goddess said, "Your hands on me, your desire for me, the pain you give yourself," she said, her voice a little distant and quiet as she looked at the ground, "they all bolster me. If something seems to go wrong..." she trailed off, hoping he would understand. Her magic thrived in his presence. Surely, by this point, he understood.
She very nearly wanted to say to hell with the cloak.
Almost.
"So, was that part of getting our demon, or...?" Evan asked playfully, and the goddess smirked at him but decided not to give him an answer. At least, not yet. Instead, she held Evan close, gently laying her head on top of his unruly mass of hair as she expanded her awareness curiously. How far had Evan scared the other creatures away? There was little life around, but she could detect faint signals of movement and light underground--there must be a cave nearby.
Knowing that Evan may have caught flashes of her expanded awareness, the goddess opened her eyes and looked at him curiously, smiling. Gods, he was beautiful in his cocky bliss. She wanted nothing more than to keep at it with him, tangle with him in whatever way possible, and she intentionally sent several images of exactly that directly to him complete with a wash of her own desire for his body pressed around hers but then broke contact altogether, moving away from him and beginning to search for the cave.
"No. You keep distracting me," she said with playfulness in her tone.
She searched the ground and kept her awareness spread wide like a net about the area, leaning into the topography of the land as she did so. Finally, she came to a jagged rock outcropping. If she hadn't been looking for an entrance, she might have missed it as it was just around one edge of the stone face as it jutted out from another part of the short cliff. The opening was only large enough for a single person to walk through at a time. Placing a hand on the sharp rock that served as the threshold, the goddess turned toward Evan and said, "We're here. Stay close to me."
She then pulled up the container of wine where it lay against her hip and poured a small trickle over what would become their doorway. It dripped with the thickness of blood down the sharp, dry rock on either side of the sheer wall. Then, the goddess closed her eyes and took another drink of the wine as echoes of the sensations from before--the lavishness of her world, the melancholy of the past--flooded and motivated her once again. This was one more step along the long path to getting free, and she could do this. They could do this together.
Handing the canteen to Evan, the goddess said, "Your hands on me, your desire for me, the pain you give yourself," she said, her voice a little distant and quiet as she looked at the ground, "they all bolster me. If something seems to go wrong..." she trailed off, hoping he would understand. Her magic thrived in his presence. Surely, by this point, he understood.