If she were to ask him, the flora aesthetic, of course, fits them perfectly. (And he can humbly think that he may have inspired some of it.) A funny thing to think, however, when he is about as far from a druid as he is from an elf. Once chaos decided to gift itself to him, and chose flora as its vessel, though...
There is mutual understanding now. Him and plants. Especially, he thinks, in this desert.
He smiles. She is, indeed, an image. An overwhelming one, he thinks -- the sort that may have men turn to religion, to cults, when they are truly close to rapture. A beautiful woman, hair splayed as a halo around her, the earth itself holding her down.
"Tight," he replies, with his fingers tracing down her belly, moving down between her legs in a teasing, swirling design. Never has Jaskier ever gotten straight to the point when he can tease and torture and revel in it. Now, with permission -- "But not too tight." As he traces his thumb over the joint of her thigh, moving towards her center, he kisses between her breasts. "Forgive me the prosaic thought, but... you truly look as a goddess would."
no subject
There is mutual understanding now. Him and plants. Especially, he thinks, in this desert.
He smiles. She is, indeed, an image. An overwhelming one, he thinks -- the sort that may have men turn to religion, to cults, when they are truly close to rapture. A beautiful woman, hair splayed as a halo around her, the earth itself holding her down.
"Tight," he replies, with his fingers tracing down her belly, moving down between her legs in a teasing, swirling design. Never has Jaskier ever gotten straight to the point when he can tease and torture and revel in it. Now, with permission -- "But not too tight." As he traces his thumb over the joint of her thigh, moving towards her center, he kisses between her breasts. "Forgive me the prosaic thought, but... you truly look as a goddess would."