Well, to be honest, the Palace stew would be terrible with them. But not for this.
I don't know if I should envy you, or feel relived that I've never managed to forget why certain things are out of my reach.
And what might that be, you might ask. It's fair skin; pale against my dark sheets. It's soft hair on my pillow. I reach out in the middle of the night, and there's someone there to reach back. The crackling heat of a first kiss, and the breathless anticipation of a second one.
That doesn't stop hope, even if it would be the most sensible thing.
Yes, damn you. When I wake up, the darkness thick enough to swallow up any sounds farther away than my own bed, that's when I want it so much that I can taste it. That's when I feel the ghost-fingers of whoever I yearn for against my skin. On my lips. I can feel her legs wrapped tightly around my waist and if I hold my breath, I swear I can almost hear her gasping.
i have 423210573 darklina icons and i am determined to use all of them ok
i would guess whoever's caught your attention is thinking of you too awakened by an ache she can't soothe herself.
she'd probably think of your lips, hot and pressed up against her neck. or your fingers, greedily gripped around her wrists or digging into her thighs. or your eyes, dark and intense, watching from your spot between her thighs.
Is mind-reading another one of your talents, miss Starkov? Because you take the words right out of my mind, the ideas grabbed straight from out of a dream. Of a naked body, spread out before me on the softest bed in the Palace. A dream about her gasping moans and my mouth sliding over her skin. Of exploring her body, that first careful taste to learn what makes her groan and gasp and give herself to me. A chance to worship her lips, to watch her head tip back in ecstasy when I slip my fingers inside of her.
Waking from a dream like that, I am nothing but a man desperately longing for this woman to come to me.
she'd be so wet from the anticipation alone. being lavished like that... is she used to it? she might make noises that she never has before. her hands would curl in your hair, buried there while her whole body would be pulled as tight as a bowstring. she'd clench so tightly around around your fingers, trying to memorize the feel of it.
are you merciful? would you bring her to the brink over and over again and make her beg. what would you whisper into her thighs to coax her over the edge?
just send her a video of you eating a fig and you might find her in your bed.
I don't just want her to think of it, I want her to dream of me and me alone. To wake up sweaty and aching for me.
I hope she's untouched, that she has known no other touch than mine. That it will always be my hands on her body, when she tosses and turns in her narrow bed at night. That it's always going to be my mouth and my lips, licking her open and getting her ready. I think about her body shaking, how tight she might be around me when she comes. Around my tongue or my fingers or my cock.
What do you think about, Alina, when you touch yourself in the dark?
i think of hands that aren't my own. fantasies of how they got there and why they're touching me.
maybe we had snuck away from a dinner or the fete, so hurried that he'd just press me against the door of the first empty room we could find. i'd feel the hard line of his cock pressing between my legs, and i'd know that i did that. that it's because he wanted me. that we were in a ballroom full of people and he could only look at me, think of me.
he'd fall on his knees in front of me, push my gown out of the way, guide one of my legs over his shoulder just to put his mouth on me. that he'd make me come harder than i'd ever have on my own. how he'd lift me up like i was nothing, how his cock would stretch me like nothing else has before. that he'd tease me about being loud as he had me against a door, but i don't think he'd actually want me to be quiet.
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no subject
I don't know if I should envy you, or feel relived that I've never managed to forget why certain things are out of my reach.
And what might that be, you might ask. It's fair skin; pale against my dark sheets. It's soft hair on my pillow. I reach out in the middle of the night, and there's someone there to reach back. The crackling heat of a first kiss, and the breathless anticipation of a second one.
no subject
do you dream of them, aleksander? so vivid that when you wake up you're surprised they aren't there with you?
no subject
Yes, damn you. When I wake up, the darkness thick enough to swallow up any sounds farther away than my own bed, that's when I want it so much that I can taste it. That's when I feel the ghost-fingers of whoever I yearn for against my skin. On my lips. I can feel her legs wrapped tightly around my waist and if I hold my breath, I swear I can almost hear her gasping.
i have 423210573 darklina icons and i am determined to use all of them ok
she'd probably think of your lips, hot and pressed up against her neck.
or your fingers, greedily gripped around her wrists or digging into her thighs.
or your eyes, dark and intense, watching from your spot between her thighs.
I have two and I will use them, m'kay?!?
Is mind-reading another one of your talents, miss Starkov? Because you take the words right out of my mind, the ideas grabbed straight from out of a dream. Of a naked body, spread out before me on the softest bed in the Palace. A dream about her gasping moans and my mouth sliding over her skin. Of exploring her body, that first careful taste to learn what makes her groan and gasp and give herself to me. A chance to worship her lips, to watch her head tip back in ecstasy when I slip my fingers inside of her.
Waking from a dream like that, I am nothing but a man desperately longing for this woman to come to me.
no subject
she'd be so wet from the anticipation alone. being lavished like that... is she used to it? she might make noises that she never has before. her hands would curl in your hair, buried there while her whole body would be pulled as tight as a bowstring. she'd clench so tightly around around your fingers, trying to memorize the feel of it.
are you merciful? would you bring her to the brink over and over again and make her beg. what would you whisper into her thighs to coax her over the edge?
just send her a video of you eating a fig and you might find her in your bed.
no subject
I hope she's untouched, that she has known no other touch than mine. That it will always be my hands on her body, when she tosses and turns in her narrow bed at night. That it's always going to be my mouth and my lips, licking her open and getting her ready. I think about her body shaking, how tight she might be around me when she comes. Around my tongue or my fingers or my cock.
What do you think about, Alina, when you touch yourself in the dark?
no subject
maybe we had snuck away from a dinner or the fete, so hurried that he'd just press me against the door of the first empty room we could find. i'd feel the hard line of his cock pressing between my legs, and i'd know that i did that. that it's because he wanted me. that we were in a ballroom full of people and he could only look at me, think of me.
he'd fall on his knees in front of me, push my gown out of the way, guide one of my legs over his shoulder just to put his mouth on me.
that he'd make me come harder than i'd ever have on my own.
how he'd lift me up like i was nothing, how his cock would stretch me like nothing else has before.
that he'd tease me about being loud as he had me against a door, but i don't think he'd actually want me to be quiet.