She sees it in his eyes, hears it in his voice, and that is enough: she needs no more reassurance than that to remind her of her resolve. She hesitates no longer, but leans up to press her mouth to his, kissing him hard, her tongue almost immediately pushing between his lips.
The memory of that first time has been burning in her since it happened, whether she wanted to dwell on it or not. It was a sweet thing, a relief she had not known she needed, but it was also - even at the time - poisoned by doubt, by the knowledge that she should not be doing it, that what she gave freely to him was not hers to offer without question. Now that the deed is already done, now that there is no turning back, she feels an opportunity to try again without that burden; and she seizes on it whole-heartedly, her grip loosening on his collar only long enough for her to snake her arm around the back of his neck instead, where she can better pull herself against him.
She is flushed again when she draws back, her teeth grazing his lip, and her eyes are noticeably heavy-lidded and dark. "She is a woman, all the same. I had half-forgotten it, before you." A woman, no longer a maid; and now that the point is made, now that they are in private and they both know why, there is no reason at all to disguise anything. Her other hand shifts, her fingers hooking under his belt to pull him closer there too. There is a strange sort of shyness in her smile, behind the flirtatious invitation of it, as though there is still a small part of her watching and judging her own movements from outside.
"I would ask you to show me all the ways you please a woman - when she does not run from it." This last with a certain dry self-deprecation, which is at once set aside. "And I would ask you to undress me, and then yourself, and to touch me and hold me and fuck me every way you know, until I forget that I am anything more or less than a woman. Will you give that freely, Bjorn's son?"
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sforzinda
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Date: 2024-05-17 10:40 pm (UTC)The memory of that first time has been burning in her since it happened, whether she wanted to dwell on it or not. It was a sweet thing, a relief she had not known she needed, but it was also - even at the time - poisoned by doubt, by the knowledge that she should not be doing it, that what she gave freely to him was not hers to offer without question. Now that the deed is already done, now that there is no turning back, she feels an opportunity to try again without that burden; and she seizes on it whole-heartedly, her grip loosening on his collar only long enough for her to snake her arm around the back of his neck instead, where she can better pull herself against him.
She is flushed again when she draws back, her teeth grazing his lip, and her eyes are noticeably heavy-lidded and dark. "She is a woman, all the same. I had half-forgotten it, before you." A woman, no longer a maid; and now that the point is made, now that they are in private and they both know why, there is no reason at all to disguise anything. Her other hand shifts, her fingers hooking under his belt to pull him closer there too. There is a strange sort of shyness in her smile, behind the flirtatious invitation of it, as though there is still a small part of her watching and judging her own movements from outside.
"I would ask you to show me all the ways you please a woman - when she does not run from it." This last with a certain dry self-deprecation, which is at once set aside. "And I would ask you to undress me, and then yourself, and to touch me and hold me and fuck me every way you know, until I forget that I am anything more or less than a woman. Will you give that freely, Bjorn's son?"