[ whether or not this is about his pleasure is not what's on yennefer's mind. rather, she feels her own spark of enjoyment in the ability she has to make him gasp. in knowing that for every cycle they move through, for every decade that passes them by, she still has her grip on this. she still has control of this. he might be made and unmade an endless number of times, dissolved and then formed out of the very dust and stars and night sky around them, they might both be gods - beings of unimaginable power, of endless life, who shape and control the very world around them - but still, she knows exactly where to tug to elicit that sound. the breath, yes, but the chuckle too.
she smiles herself, entertained, enjoying the lightness and warmth and electricity that follows each of his touches, how the very air around them shifts in line, too. she doesn't need to damper her magic around him, and instead lets it fill the very air in waves, the heat spiking when his mouth finds a sensitive spot, the tension in the air thick as her own want builds.
her hand remains in his hair, against the back of his head, as he finishes undressing her - offering no help in the matter, but instead humming her approval with each press of his lips to her skin. he settles to his knees before her as the dress pools around her feet, guiding her hands to his shoulders, and she does step out of it - closer to him, now, and fully nude. she watches, following each and every flash of stardust as it slowly creeps into the corners of his eyes, her curls falling across her shoulders, down her back. if her hair is longer now than it was just moments before, well, that is something he surely remembers - the constant shifting of some of her features, the lightness of the curls as they very subtly hover in the air.
their eyes meet, and it does feel like a maelstrom. the chaos of space itself, finding home, finding purchase, finding them. she can read his wants in his eyes, through his mind, and the next long breath she takes is one of admission. go ahead it seems to say, as she shifts ever so slightly where she stands. and when his mouth finds her knee, her thighs, her wrists again, and the next breath says yes and good and more. ]
Patience? [ yennefer snorts, but doesn't seem entirely against the idea. her head tilts, the curls falling with it, as she combs her fingers from his forehead across his scalp. ] Is not one of my virtues. Make your case and I might consider it.
no subject
she smiles herself, entertained, enjoying the lightness and warmth and electricity that follows each of his touches, how the very air around them shifts in line, too. she doesn't need to damper her magic around him, and instead lets it fill the very air in waves, the heat spiking when his mouth finds a sensitive spot, the tension in the air thick as her own want builds.
her hand remains in his hair, against the back of his head, as he finishes undressing her - offering no help in the matter, but instead humming her approval with each press of his lips to her skin. he settles to his knees before her as the dress pools around her feet, guiding her hands to his shoulders, and she does step out of it - closer to him, now, and fully nude. she watches, following each and every flash of stardust as it slowly creeps into the corners of his eyes, her curls falling across her shoulders, down her back. if her hair is longer now than it was just moments before, well, that is something he surely remembers - the constant shifting of some of her features, the lightness of the curls as they very subtly hover in the air.
their eyes meet, and it does feel like a maelstrom. the chaos of space itself, finding home, finding purchase, finding them. she can read his wants in his eyes, through his mind, and the next long breath she takes is one of admission. go ahead it seems to say, as she shifts ever so slightly where she stands. and when his mouth finds her knee, her thighs, her wrists again, and the next breath says yes and good and more. ]
Patience? [ yennefer snorts, but doesn't seem entirely against the idea. her head tilts, the curls falling with it, as she combs her fingers from his forehead across his scalp. ] Is not one of my virtues. Make your case and I might consider it.