[ Chariot's response was breathless, yet clear. It was spoken with a desperate whisper, but bellowed like thunder. It was born from a heart both fragile and tremendous. ]
Baise-moi...
[ She wanted nothing more than to feel the full ferocity of Fang's desire in that moment, to be the rocks upon which her waves crashed. She wanted to be surrounded by her love, ravaged by it, to be taken and claimed. ]
[And in the wake of that whisper, Fang's hand melted from its imitation of claws into the genuine, wickedly hooked deal, and left a shallow slash from mid-thigh to just above Chariot's knee with a quick rip of Fang's arm.]
[Hers.]
[Some distant part of her mind knew the others would have questions about these scars—but the rest of her mind was still spinning with Witchblood, taken over by the Turnskin's primal instinct and the thought made Fang shiver: that her other partners would see her marks, know what they did here tonight, know that Chariot begged to be claimed by her. It's enough to make her core throb with a new spark of arousal.]
[Her other arm pushed Chariot up enough that she could get at the zipper of her outfit, yanking it down with impatience.]
[ The lingerie didn't stand much chance. Chariot needed herself out of it as badly as Fang did, it all feeling too in the way now that the initial arousal factor was well past its necessity. She needed to feel Fang's hands directly, and everywhere. Every bit of her skin ached for her touch, her taste. Every press of fingers into flesh, claws against skin, the joyful lapping of her tongue.
She was hers. Thoroughly and totally. In that night, and all others. There would never be a question about it, with that mark there.
[Fang wasted no time. Her fingers pushed in (so wet, so eager, for her), fervently stroking and hooking, desperate to please her. She tore her mouth away from the wound to latch onto a breast, sucking, her tongue circling and flicking over that peak repeatedly.]
[But the Turnskin's instinct wasn't all hunger and possessiveness; the hand on Chariot's thigh shifted back to it's human form, protectively pressing across that oozing slash to staunch it.]
[Chariot was hers. Her blood gave a rush unlike any Fang'd ever felt. But no matter how enticing that sanguine taste, how marks decorated her skin with claims, they were still wounds. She wouldn't (couldn't) let her Bonded bleed too much.]
[ Honestly, she could use her own healing magic later. She wasn't that worried about it, especially since the pain was hardly registering. No sensation beyond the fires of ecstasy stoked by Fang's possessive attentions could really register, for that matter. Fang's unleashed, possessive lust was overwhelming her already, but in such a wonderful and welcome way. This was exactly what she'd intended for, to inspire this within her lover, to "shine" for her in a way she never had before.
Magic wasn't forgotten, though. And it became to blossom regardless of her lack of focus, illuminating the room in a way the candles and remnants of the evening sun could not. Bright energies coursed over her skin, into Fang, enhancing everything, making each touch that much more profound, to stir up those desires even more.
This was not merely Chariot that Fang was making love to. This was Shiny Chariot. And the grand finale was building its crescendo between them. ]
[She gasped into her skin as the energy sank in, her relentless rhythm stuttering before resuming all the more fiercely. The Witchblood already had her head spinning, mixing into her own veins and setting them alight—the magic now seeping from Chariot settled into her skin, setting her alight from the outside as well, the overstimulation of magic chasing out everything in her head except want and need and instinct.]
[Chariot's end of the Bond provided more than enough to fill the vacancy. Her own hips rolled underneath her lover, bucking into the sensations and bliss that wasn't hers. Without thinking she bit Chariot again, a softer bite this time the top her breast, moaning into her flesh.]
[ The spell really started to take form when the magic found its way inside of Fang, and soon she'd realize just what Chariot really could do...
More so than the sensation of the Bond, she'd find her motions inside of Chariot quite literally mirrored inside of herself, replicating the pressure, the speed, of her fingers, filling in within. It took all the focus Chariot had left to even cast the spell, but it was well worth it, to feel how much more it'd spur Fang on.
This was the finale, the climax, of her show. She hoped it was all the spectacle Fang had ever hoped for. ]
[And of course, when Fang thought there was nothing more to give, Chariot found a way to wring out more. The shock of sudden pressure within her tore a whining gasp from Fang, her motions stuttering to a still again—but only briefly.]
[Her thrusting resumed, her fingertips hooking with a new kind of desperation. Fang couldn't hold herself up anymore; she dropped away from Chariot's chest, head tossed back against the bed, her thumb clumsily reaching for her lover's clit where it could. Fang's hips rocked again more earnestly against the phantom sensations.]
[And unfortunately, Chariot wouldn't have long to enjoy Fang's pitched gasps; the alcohol, the Witchblood, the magic, the Bond all magnified each sensation and shock of pleasure to the point where it quite literally stunned Fang when it all peaked with a short strangled cry, her form going bonelessly still as her head lolled against the bed, mind blank and skin buzzing and ears ringing with the force of the overstimulation.]
[ And thus, the performer took her bow, and the curtain fell. The orgasm that rushed through Chariot was just as blinding and brilliant as Fang's was, rushed right alongside her bonded, and had Fang's name be the last word that left her before she finally collapsed in a heap against the other woman.
She panted so heavily, she could barely form any speech. Honestly, she really had none to share after all of that. The 'performance' spoke for itself. It was a crescendo into the climax, and a wonderful ending to the show of her life...
But as the ecstasy started to wear more thin... she started to realize just how much her shoulder actually hurt from all of that. ]
[What a wonderful weight, Chariot piled atop her. It was all Fang could process as she gasped for breath—until her partner's cringe stirred her. Fang roused sluggishly, an arm wrapping clumsily around Chariot's waist and her other hand pressing down over her bleeding mark.]
[It's very much an automatic reaction; her nerves were still jittery, her mind spinning, and she could still taste too-sweet iron on her tongue, urging her to keep licking, biting, drinking. But it was just a whisper, and a thought-numb Fang just nuzzled the uninjured side of Chariot's neck, purring. Content, apologetic, soothing, expressing so many different things at once while Fang couldn't manage the words.]
[The world was filtering back to her, but slowly.]
[ Honestly, it was a better pain relief than any spell she could have managed in that moment. She nuzzled right back, sighing, just... drinking in the warmth of their love, soaking within the afterglow of the nova. It was incredible, what she'd just done, what Fang had inspired her to do. She wasn't certain when she'd ever be able to do that again, outside of Litha, but...
... It felt too wonderful for her not to try, someday.
When she finally found her ability to speak, all she could do was whisper a few, happy words... ]
Love you, [She mumbled back, rolling her head to bump her forehead into Chariot's. Her head then rolled back against the bed, Fang's breathing evening out and sucking in a deep breath.]
[Gods. Gods. That was incredible. She's never experienced anything like that.]
I can think of a few uses for that trick... [That little spell of hers. What a surprise that was.] You're incredible.
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no subject
Baise-moi...
[ She wanted nothing more than to feel the full ferocity of Fang's desire in that moment, to be the rocks upon which her waves crashed. She wanted to be surrounded by her love, ravaged by it, to be taken and claimed. ]
no subject
[Hers.]
[Some distant part of her mind knew the others would have questions about these scars—but the rest of her mind was still spinning with Witchblood, taken over by the Turnskin's primal instinct and the thought made Fang shiver: that her other partners would see her marks, know what they did here tonight, know that Chariot begged to be claimed by her. It's enough to make her core throb with a new spark of arousal.]
[Her other arm pushed Chariot up enough that she could get at the zipper of her outfit, yanking it down with impatience.]
no subject
She was hers. Thoroughly and totally. In that night, and all others. There would never be a question about it, with that mark there.
They were mated. ]
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[But the Turnskin's instinct wasn't all hunger and possessiveness; the hand on Chariot's thigh shifted back to it's human form, protectively pressing across that oozing slash to staunch it.]
[Chariot was hers. Her blood gave a rush unlike any Fang'd ever felt. But no matter how enticing that sanguine taste, how marks decorated her skin with claims, they were still wounds. She wouldn't (couldn't) let her Bonded bleed too much.]
no subject
Magic wasn't forgotten, though. And it became to blossom regardless of her lack of focus, illuminating the room in a way the candles and remnants of the evening sun could not. Bright energies coursed over her skin, into Fang, enhancing everything, making each touch that much more profound, to stir up those desires even more.
This was not merely Chariot that Fang was making love to. This was Shiny Chariot. And the grand finale was building its crescendo between them. ]
no subject
[Chariot's end of the Bond provided more than enough to fill the vacancy. Her own hips rolled underneath her lover, bucking into the sensations and bliss that wasn't hers. Without thinking she bit Chariot again, a softer bite this time the top her breast, moaning into her flesh.]
no subject
More so than the sensation of the Bond, she'd find her motions inside of Chariot quite literally mirrored inside of herself, replicating the pressure, the speed, of her fingers, filling in within. It took all the focus Chariot had left to even cast the spell, but it was well worth it, to feel how much more it'd spur Fang on.
This was the finale, the climax, of her show. She hoped it was all the spectacle Fang had ever hoped for. ]
no subject
[Her thrusting resumed, her fingertips hooking with a new kind of desperation. Fang couldn't hold herself up anymore; she dropped away from Chariot's chest, head tossed back against the bed, her thumb clumsily reaching for her lover's clit where it could. Fang's hips rocked again more earnestly against the phantom sensations.]
[And unfortunately, Chariot wouldn't have long to enjoy Fang's pitched gasps; the alcohol, the Witchblood, the magic, the Bond all magnified each sensation and shock of pleasure to the point where it quite literally stunned Fang when it all peaked with a short strangled cry, her form going bonelessly still as her head lolled against the bed, mind blank and skin buzzing and ears ringing with the force of the overstimulation.]
no subject
She panted so heavily, she could barely form any speech. Honestly, she really had none to share after all of that. The 'performance' spoke for itself. It was a crescendo into the climax, and a wonderful ending to the show of her life...
But as the ecstasy started to wear more thin... she started to realize just how much her shoulder actually hurt from all of that. ]
Ow...
no subject
[It's very much an automatic reaction; her nerves were still jittery, her mind spinning, and she could still taste too-sweet iron on her tongue, urging her to keep licking, biting, drinking. But it was just a whisper, and a thought-numb Fang just nuzzled the uninjured side of Chariot's neck, purring. Content, apologetic, soothing, expressing so many different things at once while Fang couldn't manage the words.]
[The world was filtering back to her, but slowly.]
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... It felt too wonderful for her not to try, someday.
When she finally found her ability to speak, all she could do was whisper a few, happy words... ]
Happy anniversary...
no subject
[Gods. Gods. That was incredible. She's never experienced anything like that.]
I can think of a few uses for that trick... [That little spell of hers. What a surprise that was.] You're incredible.