[That brand; she knows it intimately, the feel of it, the press of it against her hand and against her mouth. She spreads her hand over his chest and her fingers slide over the brand.
He's hers now. Hers, without a doubt. She doesn't need anything so primitive to prove it. It's in the way he looks at her, or the way that he talks - or doesn't - about her. It's in a loyalty that she knows in the core of her.
She gasps and curls up tight against him, pressing her face against his throat as her vision whites out and all that's left is the smell of his clean skin and his come and his arousal, all at once. She stays there, her cunt tightening around him, milking his cock as much as she can, until she's feeling boneless and sated.]
[ His answer is to groan low in his chest, tightening his grip on her just a little as the last pulse of ecstasy goes through him. He strokes her hair a little, but keeps his hand where it is, firm at the back of her neck.
Eventually he does manage to bring his head forward again, looking at her with lazy, warm satisfaction. The lion and the tigress basking in the warmth of the sun.
Except instead of the sun it's scented bath water and come. ]
You are so fucking beautiful.
[ It's barely a murmur, the way he says it, like he doesn't even know he's saying it out loud. It simply came out of him, too true to remain unsaid. ]
[He strokes her hair and he's so warm, she chuffs, the noise feral and completely animal, and she blinks up at him. Her eyes are wide, amber and gorgeous and wild. She smiles, slowly, like she's a little drunk.]
Most beautiful girl you've ever had?
[She's a vain creature, and he knows it. She loves to be told that she's beautiful, she loves to know how gorgeous he thinks she is. Every time he calls her beautiful she rosies up, looks pleased by the thought. It's almost as powerful as a confession of love.]
When you first saw me, I was filthy, my hair was matted, I smelled worse.
[She tips her head and kisses his fingers, and takes a breath, not wanting to move. She knows that they should, soon, before the water gets too cold, that she should dry off and do something, anything.]
When I first saw you I wanted to kill everyone in sight, and I thought you must have been kin.
[She pushes him just a little, and she's deliciously sore between her legs as she dips under the water, reaches for soap, starts running it over her skin. She knows that he's watching; she likes that he's watching her, as she cleans her throat, her shoulders.]
[ His grin broadens, little by little, remembering that moment and how fascinated he was by her in spite of the conditions. Maybe because of them. A treasure that had been badly treated.
He draws back from her slowly, but doesn't take his eyes off of her, admiring the slickness of her skin and how easily her hands slide over it. ]
I wouldn't have blamed you, if you'd tried to kill me. But you didn't. That's why I had no hope at all.
[There are a lot of things she doesn’t remember about that time. The months in the cage blend together, the shifts happening, the drugs they fed her making her unable to fight, and if she didn’t eat the weakness making her unable to think.
And then Charles, looking at her like she was a mystery. She probably was.
She washes the rest of her skin off, and then comes to give him the same treatment, her fingers moving over him with no rush.]
I’m glad I didn’t try to kill you. I’m glad I waited, because I realized I wanted you.
[ He enjoys watching her bathe more than he cares much about bathing himself - but he knows that Daphne likes it when he smells clean, and if she's going to help him do it, then so much the better.
They're both docile under each other's hands in moments like this. Charles turns around and sinks lower in the water, tipping his head back to wet his hair again. ]
[She starts to run her hands through his hair, pressing her fingers into his scalp. It's clear that one hand doesn't have the fine motor control of the other yet; but considering she couldn't move her fingers at all two days ago, this is a vast improvement. She likes when he smells clean; she likes when he smells like her.
She'll work her hands over skin, too, once she's done here.]
I had a chance to leave Nassau. Before you and I were together. Before everything happened. To go to Tenerife. I would have been able to find passage back here, eventually.
[ He makes a low, luxurious sound as his eyes slip closed and his head tilts back further toward her hands. She feels exquisite. Like one of those many-armed deities he sees in some of the icons around here. If they aren't careful, he might slip right into the water without even thinking.
Don't worry, though, he's listening. ]
But you stayed.
[ He tips his head back slowly, opening one eye at her with a playful little grin. ]
[She massages his hair, the two points at the base of his skull, her fingers pressing deep. She moves so she's looking over his face, at that terrible playful smile.]
Because I wanted you. I dreamed about you. But you were convinced.
[She admits it.]
That's why it was a secret, Charles.
[But he knows, how much he means to her now. How addicted she is to him.]
And because it was Eleanor who arranged for it. Who told me she would help me get off Nassau.
Edited (Me: not important enough MORE DRAMA) 2022-03-22 15:26 (UTC)
[ Charles lets out a low rumbling sound of pleasure as her fingers dig into the back of his neck, kneading out whatever's left of the tension that sex wasn't enough to dissolve. His eyes drift shut again, lulled by the sensation and by the memories, and the satisfaction of knowing that they're devoted to each other now.
But then he opens his eyes again, focusing on nothing in particular. ]
Did she.
[ It doesn't surprise him, but it does needle at something within him, even this long after the fact, knowing how deeply Eleanor would betray him and to what lengths. Of course she tried to smuggle Daphne off the island. ]
She knew you'd be trouble, tigress. [ Then he slowly smirks again, with another glance back toward her. ] Lucky for me that you're not so easy to discourage.
[She leans down, and presses a kiss to his mouth, kisses that smirk off him. Back then Eleanor didn’t know what she was capable of but she was already aware of how she looked at Charles. It served Eleanor’s best interest to keep him tethered to her, and she knew.
It would have been impossible to run Nassau without that level of skill.
Daphne nods.]
And that I was paranoid to imagine a rival queen might send me on a journey where the men would try to kill me.
[ He sighs heavily, both in relaxation and exasperation. ]
And even if you'd told me, I wouldn't have believed you.
[ Not for any sense of mistrust, but he'd been warned about Eleanor by people who knew her better than Daphne did, and ignored those. There was a time when he would never have believed Eleanor capable of sending a woman to her death. She was ruthless, and he loved that about her, but some lines you just don't cross. ]
[She keeps rocking her fingers through his hair, and then moves so she’s in front of him, and dips his head back to rinse everything off, then starts on his skin. He looks so peaceful, then, her hands on his skin.]
Tell me, then.
[She presses up against him.]
Tell me a secret of your own.
[She likes secrets; she likes his secrets. She loves him so completely, but she doesn’t kid herself. She doesn’t know all his secrets.]
[ God, he feels too good. Too good for that question, even though it's fair, and he hates not to indulge her. She's asking only in playful goodwill, wanting to have all of him. And he wants her to have all of him.
It's just such a nice moment. Warm bath. Beautiful woman. Why ruin it?
So he catches her hand in his own, threading their fingers, bringing it up to his mouth for a kiss. ]
The only secrets I've kept from you are the ones that aren't worth knowing.
[There is a tiny, fluttery moment, the patient patter of her heart just against her chest, like she’s a teenager again and this is the first time a man has looked at her. She laughs to cover it up, her face ducking so he can’t see her flush.]
All right, Charles.
[She doesn’t pull away.]
Keep your secrets.
[She’s teasing, but she does pull away then, to get out of the bath.]
[ It's sweet, the way she says it, and teasing, but it sends a pang through him nonetheless. At times like this he can't help but feel like he's not giving her what she's due from him, which should be everything.
It is everything.
He submerges one more time, and then resurfaces in time to catch her just before she climbs up the side. ]
Meet me in our bed, and I'll unburden myself to you.
[ It's her bed, but it's also their bed. It'll be their bed tonight. ]
[She doesn't tell him he doesn't have to. He knows that; he knows that she doesn't need him to break boundaries to be with her, and she respects that decision. So she nods, slipping on a robe once she's dry.
When he does find her, she's sitting on the bed, her robe open, her legs crossed and a plate of fruit in front of her. Someone smart brought them some food, which is good because she's starving, and she has a skinned mango in one hand that she's eating with absolutely no care for mess except a plate on her lap.
She looks up when he pads into the room, and nudges the plate his way to signal that he should eat something.]
[ Charles spends a little extra time wringing out his hair, just to avoid dripping too much water into their bed, but he doesn't bother to wrap a towel or a robe around himself when he leaves the bath.
He does pull on a loose pair of pants that he'd bought after coming here, to her village. So much about her has been assimilated into him, anchoring him to her home now instead of any other town. Normally it doesn't bother him to think that there are things he hasn't told her, deliberately, because they don't matter to what the two of them have.
But now it's on his mind, and coinciding with something she'd said before, it becomes a more pressing issue.
So he rolls onto the bed, and stretches out beside her, propping himself up on one elbow, taking a piece of pineapple for himself. ]
When I told you I'd do anything you told me to do, before, you told me to stop lying. [ He glances up at her, taking a slow bite. ] What did you mean by that?
[She watches him eat, taking another bite of dripping mango, and her eyes widen just a little. She nudges just a bit closer to him, and licks her fingers.]
Do you really think you would allow me any part of your body?
Think hard before you say yes.
[She knows that he's no stranger to the kinds of things men crave. Nassau was practically an open-air brothel sometimes, and the men there weren't afraid of their impulses or desires.
[He's not upset; she can tell. But she did challenge him, she thinks, and so she moves that plate over just a little, so it's not between them anymore, and sets the mango pit down. Her hand is sticky, and she presses one finger to his mouth, where he can taste the sweetness of the fruit.]
Would you let me fuck you like a man might?
[She's never done it to him. She's done it before; she's had other lovers who would have gone belly up for her no matter what she wanted out of them.]
[ He continues to hold her gaze, sharply steady, as he folds his hand over hers and holds it against his mouth.
One kiss at the tip of her finger, then he draws it into his mouth and sucks the mango juice from her skin, and then he presses a kiss to her palm, and to her wrist. ]
I would now.
[ Then he closes his eyes, to nuzzle the soft skin over her pulse. ]
It's true that I don't offer it lightly. When I was a boy, wearing this mark--
[ He draws her fingers down to the brand. ]
--I wasn't given that choice. So I protect it now.
[The words but would you enjoy it stop right at her teeth. She looks at him, and knows that if she has the wrong reaction, makes the wrong kind of noise, he won't hate her for it, but it'll be a thorn in his side. He loves her, and he loves completely, she knows that.
But he's a man. And he's one who is giving her something vulnerable.
She slides a little closer to him, and runs her fingers over that mark.
There is a ripple in her hair, though. Orange that shimmers, a flash of amber in her eyes. That's the rage, the fury that someone would touch him like that, without his consent. That he didn't have a choice.]
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cribellate2022-02-27 11:31 am
no subject
He's hers now. Hers, without a doubt. She doesn't need anything so primitive to prove it. It's in the way he looks at her, or the way that he talks - or doesn't - about her. It's in a loyalty that she knows in the core of her.
She gasps and curls up tight against him, pressing her face against his throat as her vision whites out and all that's left is the smell of his clean skin and his come and his arousal, all at once. She stays there, her cunt tightening around him, milking his cock as much as she can, until she's feeling boneless and sated.]
Don't let go yet.
no subject
Eventually he does manage to bring his head forward again, looking at her with lazy, warm satisfaction. The lion and the tigress basking in the warmth of the sun.
Except instead of the sun it's scented bath water and come. ]
You are so fucking beautiful.
[ It's barely a murmur, the way he says it, like he doesn't even know he's saying it out loud. It simply came out of him, too true to remain unsaid. ]
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Most beautiful girl you've ever had?
[She's a vain creature, and he knows it. She loves to be told that she's beautiful, she loves to know how gorgeous he thinks she is. Every time he calls her beautiful she rosies up, looks pleased by the thought. It's almost as powerful as a confession of love.]
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[ There really isn't. He's spent so long committing Daphne's entire body to memory that even Eleanor's face has started to blur out in response.
With a little smile, he runs his thumb along the angle of her jaw. ]
When I first saw you, I knew I wouldn't be able to get you out of my head.
no subject
[She tips her head and kisses his fingers, and takes a breath, not wanting to move. She knows that they should, soon, before the water gets too cold, that she should dry off and do something, anything.]
When I first saw you I wanted to kill everyone in sight, and I thought you must have been kin.
[She pushes him just a little, and she's deliciously sore between her legs as she dips under the water, reaches for soap, starts running it over her skin. She knows that he's watching; she likes that he's watching her, as she cleans her throat, her shoulders.]
no subject
[ His grin broadens, little by little, remembering that moment and how fascinated he was by her in spite of the conditions. Maybe because of them. A treasure that had been badly treated.
He draws back from her slowly, but doesn't take his eyes off of her, admiring the slickness of her skin and how easily her hands slide over it. ]
I wouldn't have blamed you, if you'd tried to kill me. But you didn't. That's why I had no hope at all.
no subject
And then Charles, looking at her like she was a mystery. She probably was.
She washes the rest of her skin off, and then comes to give him the same treatment, her fingers moving over him with no rush.]
I’m glad I didn’t try to kill you. I’m glad I waited, because I realized I wanted you.
[She smiles up at him.]
I’ll tell you a secret.
[Daphne hoards secrets like pirates hoard gold.]
Let me wash your hair for it.
no subject
They're both docile under each other's hands in moments like this. Charles turns around and sinks lower in the water, tipping his head back to wet his hair again. ]
What's your secret?
no subject
She'll work her hands over skin, too, once she's done here.]
I had a chance to leave Nassau. Before you and I were together. Before everything happened. To go to Tenerife. I would have been able to find passage back here, eventually.
When you were still trapped by Eleanor.
no subject
Don't worry, though, he's listening. ]
But you stayed.
[ He tips his head back slowly, opening one eye at her with a playful little grin. ]
Because you wanted me?
no subject
Because I wanted you. I dreamed about you. But you were convinced.
[She admits it.]
That's why it was a secret, Charles.
[But he knows, how much he means to her now. How addicted she is to him.]
And because it was Eleanor who arranged for it. Who told me she would help me get off Nassau.
not me like OH BITCH???
But then he opens his eyes again, focusing on nothing in particular. ]
Did she.
[ It doesn't surprise him, but it does needle at something within him, even this long after the fact, knowing how deeply Eleanor would betray him and to what lengths. Of course she tried to smuggle Daphne off the island. ]
She knew you'd be trouble, tigress. [ Then he slowly smirks again, with another glance back toward her. ] Lucky for me that you're not so easy to discourage.
no subject
It would have been impossible to run Nassau without that level of skill.
Daphne nods.]
And that I was paranoid to imagine a rival queen might send me on a journey where the men would try to kill me.
no subject
And even if you'd told me, I wouldn't have believed you.
[ Not for any sense of mistrust, but he'd been warned about Eleanor by people who knew her better than Daphne did, and ignored those. There was a time when he would never have believed Eleanor capable of sending a woman to her death. She was ruthless, and he loved that about her, but some lines you just don't cross. ]
I know better now.
no subject
Tell me, then.
[She presses up against him.]
Tell me a secret of your own.
[She likes secrets; she likes his secrets. She loves him so completely, but she doesn’t kid herself. She doesn’t know all his secrets.]
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It's just such a nice moment. Warm bath. Beautiful woman. Why ruin it?
So he catches her hand in his own, threading their fingers, bringing it up to his mouth for a kiss. ]
The only secrets I've kept from you are the ones that aren't worth knowing.
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All right, Charles.
[She doesn’t pull away.]
Keep your secrets.
[She’s teasing, but she does pull away then, to get out of the bath.]
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It is everything.
He submerges one more time, and then resurfaces in time to catch her just before she climbs up the side. ]
Meet me in our bed, and I'll unburden myself to you.
[ It's her bed, but it's also their bed. It'll be their bed tonight. ]
no subject
When he does find her, she's sitting on the bed, her robe open, her legs crossed and a plate of fruit in front of her. Someone smart brought them some food, which is good because she's starving, and she has a skinned mango in one hand that she's eating with absolutely no care for mess except a plate on her lap.
She looks up when he pads into the room, and nudges the plate his way to signal that he should eat something.]
no subject
He does pull on a loose pair of pants that he'd bought after coming here, to her village. So much about her has been assimilated into him, anchoring him to her home now instead of any other town. Normally it doesn't bother him to think that there are things he hasn't told her, deliberately, because they don't matter to what the two of them have.
But now it's on his mind, and coinciding with something she'd said before, it becomes a more pressing issue.
So he rolls onto the bed, and stretches out beside her, propping himself up on one elbow, taking a piece of pineapple for himself. ]
When I told you I'd do anything you told me to do, before, you told me to stop lying. [ He glances up at her, taking a slow bite. ] What did you mean by that?
no subject
Do you really think you would allow me any part of your body?
Think hard before you say yes.
[She knows that he's no stranger to the kinds of things men crave. Nassau was practically an open-air brothel sometimes, and the men there weren't afraid of their impulses or desires.
Mostly.]
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[ He holds his gaze on hers steadily, just in case she's looking for any uncertainty in him. She won't find it. ]
But I want you to tell me what it is you think I'd deny you.
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Would you let me fuck you like a man might?
[She's never done it to him. She's done it before; she's had other lovers who would have gone belly up for her no matter what she wanted out of them.]
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One kiss at the tip of her finger, then he draws it into his mouth and sucks the mango juice from her skin, and then he presses a kiss to her palm, and to her wrist. ]
I would now.
[ Then he closes his eyes, to nuzzle the soft skin over her pulse. ]
It's true that I don't offer it lightly. When I was a boy, wearing this mark--
[ He draws her fingers down to the brand. ]
--I wasn't given that choice. So I protect it now.
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But he's a man. And he's one who is giving her something vulnerable.
She slides a little closer to him, and runs her fingers over that mark.
There is a ripple in her hair, though. Orange that shimmers, a flash of amber in her eyes. That's the rage, the fury that someone would touch him like that, without his consent. That he didn't have a choice.]
How long have you held onto that, lion?
[Does anyone else know?]
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