[ Chariot wanted to give some clever response back, but Fang's attack on her neck completely derailed any attempt at words. Or even thought, for that matter. She gasped, back arching beneath Fang, the bond flooding with desire and affection now that both parties had given their enthusiastic consent. This was already different from that morning with Ramesses, the emotions of the bond heightening her senses well beyond the threshold she'd nearly gotten used to.
If she was a star that 'shined' for those she loved, then she was brilliant enough to be the sun itself in that moment, her free hand clenching at any fabric on Fang she could, giving insistent tugs, admitting to herself she didn't... actually know how to undress the other, but she didn't want to let go at all, either. ]
[Fang couldn't blame her for not wanting to let go; she certainly didn't. Every bit of that reaction to the simple attention of her neck was intoxicating, that needy sound and delightful arch and those little insistent tugs stoking the blaze in Fang to a roar.]
[She might have accidentally growled, a little bit—a low, pleased, leisurely rumble, followed by a microscopic flicker of embarrassment. The turnskin kept kissing her Bonded's neck, since it seemed so welcome, as the arm not bearing her weight plucked at the sash around her waist. The ruined dress-like robe she'd borrowed hung loosely around her, and Fang honestly didn't care if Chariot tore it off her. Hell, she'd probably do the same, if her Bonded took too long. There was nothing else to the ensemble than that, other than the usual shorts and bra Fang wore without a hint of modesty, and her regular jewelry.]
[ With the sash gone and everything feeling that much looser, Chariot felt pretty confident she could tug the rest away, without tearing it at least. It was such a pretty color, she didn't really want to see it destroyed, especially if it would remind her of the night they were having that much more.
For her own, she'd opted out of wearing her bodysuit and robes, maybe subconsciously wanting to have something nicer for the festival, but the blouse, vest, and skirt still had not more than buttons holding him closed, buttons that wouldn't hold up much against her bonded's strength.
Passed over the bond was the permission to do just that, meeting Fang's own lack of care, and maybe just the tiniest bit of curiosity of what it would feel like to be so ravaged beneath Fang's passion. The other time had been much slower, calm, after all, and without nearly the amount of heat and need behind it.
She didn't want Fang to hold back. She was convinced she was ready for it. ]
[Like Fang had told her: if that's what she wanted, that's what she'd get—and happily, at that. She cooperated long enough to slide her arms out of the garment, then turned her eager attention to her partner's clothes. She spared a moment to press her lips to Chariot's exposed collarbone, sucking at the soft skin.]
[Button thread was thin; even without resorting to her "retracted" claws, it took scant moments to slide the new points of her nails under the button holes, an easy yank tearing the weakened thread apart; the dislocated buttons scattered and clicked across the floor, soon to be lost to the disorganization.]
[The turnskin's fingers eagerly found the exposed flesh, ghosting across Chariot's pale skin, careful not to leave a single scratch with her pointed nai—]
[Hold up. Pointed nails?]
[Fang paused, lifting her hand to glare at it. This time, the quiet feline growl emanating from her was nothing short of irritated by this annoying irony.]
[ She felt like a gift being unwrapped, an entirely new sensation for her, the anticipation building with every popped button. The sensation of Fang's fingertips against her bared flesh made her shiver, the bond pronouncing the sensation by adding so much more weight behind every touch.
But it also meant she definitely noticed what Fang noticed when she noticed it. And for a moment, she was confused. Why was it an issue? She'd been careful up until now and...
Oh. Oh that's right. Chariot's eyebrow's arched, looking sympathetic as she reached to once more cup Fang's cheek with her hand.
However she figured to proceed, Chariot was sure it would be fine. She trusted Fang to know what she was doing, even if she ran into some roadblocks. It was pretty obvious she was way more experienced, between the two of them. She had to put her faith in Fang. ]
[The soft touch and wave of trust drew Fang's attention from her irritation, and she closed her eyes, tilting her face both into the touch and the intangible sensation.]
[The Bond really did add a whole other layer to this. Already, they were becoming more deft at controlling and interpreting those little impulses of emotions without accompanying though. Between that touch and that feeling, Fang knew exactly what Chariot wanted to tell her—no, what she did say.]
[Fang's grin was back soon enough. Whatever. She had opinions.]
Don't you worry. I'll get creative, if I have to.
[Words still held their appeal sometimes, though. The turnskin kissed that flush across her partner's chest as she pushed the blouse off, a little disappointed Chariot's hand had to leave her hair for that.]
Anything I should know?
[Fang wasn't aware of the exact depth of Chariot's inexperience. Her words were light, but the Bond carried consideration amid the desire, genuinely interested in what the Witch liked and disliked. For such an assertive—and often aggressive—individual, Fang was oddly eager to please, her world's focus narrowed down the single point that was her Bonded.]
[ Fang would find a black, lacy brassiere beneath the blouse, Chariot's chest moddest but not lacking either. But more than that, the skin there was deeply sensitive, gasping at every little brush of her lips, barely able to think, much less respond to Fang's question. ]
Ah... n-no, I'm just... still very new to all of this.
[ Prior to that morning with Ramesses, she had been a virgin. And even then, he'd only used his mouth and after that opted to simply snuggle with her while she slept. Beyond that, the only experience she'd had were her own hands. She hadn't even used toys before. Fang had a whole world to show her... ]
[Still very new? That way of phrasing it did make her wonder, if that time she'd felt had been Chariot's first... and if it hadn't, it might've been a second, from the sounds of it. Either way, a well-meaning humor rises in the Bond, almost like Fang was teasing her for it through their link than verbally.]
[But the consideration from before remained. It would've even given her pause, had Fang not had insight into what Chariot wanted—had she not been able to feel her desire and curiosity for the passion Fang harbored. Again, the turnskin trusted her Bonded to be her own judge in that regard. And their link was reassuring, besides; she'd be able to tell what her partner truly enjoyed and didn't, just from the emotional kickback, and let it guide her.]
[She sucked at the sensitive skin insistently one last time, before shifting, straddling the witch's hips and hovering over her for a moment.]
Let's figure it out, then. [Fang murmured kissing her again, hungrier than even the last time, keeping Chariot's want for her blazing intensity in mind. She kept that other want in mind too—that one that rose in response to Fang's disregard for her own clothing; her hand trailed up the witch's stomach until it found that thin connection between the two halves of the brassiere, snapping it with a firm twist of her fingers.]
[ There was the slightest tinge of regret, that she knew she couldn't just take that to the tailor to fix without having to explain why it happened, but the shock of feeling the seams strain and pop, exhilarating and invigorating all its own, pushed that regret so far aside it was practically non-existent. It was so exciting, to feel Fang's strength used that way, that she was the object behind those burning desires. She could never consciously think of herself as someone worthy of that attention, but she definitely wasn't going to turn it away.
The halves of the brassiere fell loose, Chariot using her free hand to pull one half aside, exposing part of her chest fully to Fang. She was already so worked up and feeling her own hunger, the rosy blush had extended to her breast, and the pert nipple as well. ]
[It was something of a tragedy that such a sentiment was mutual between them, each wondering how they deserved such affection. It was less a tragedy that they'd both do their damnedest to change each other's minds.]
[The Bond changed so much about this kind of intimacy. It readily fed Fang'd desire, fueled by that wonderful excitement and hunger. Seeing and hearing the reactions were reward enough, but feeling the direct result of her actions... utterly intoxicating.]
[She'd have to part from the blistering kiss soon, but not yet; it felt too important. Fang's hand returned to splay against Chariot's side, feeling—exploring, memorizing, appreciating—every contour it glided over on its path to the breast it was invited to. She kneaded it gently a couple times before her thumb brushed over that peak, back and forth and around with ghosting touchs, taunting the sensitive flesh.]
[As eager as Chariot was, Fang wanted to see how much she could draw out, how hot she could stoke that heat in her blood, how high she could bring her partner before cresting that precipice at the end of this.]
[ She was doing wonderful work towards that end so far. Fang had Chariot completely wrapped around her finger, though perhaps that metaphor wasn't so fitting beneath her bonded's bonfire of desires and passions. But either way, every single touch made Chariot tremor, bite her lip to stifle a moan, roll her back and hips beneath Fang.
For someone who'd been so tired moving her arms was a herculian task before, she felt like she couldn't stop moving now, squirming under her bonded. Her free hand moved to the closure of her skirt, fussing with the buttons, letting out a frustrated whimper. ]
[Fang let out a needy sound of her own after that whimper. As Chariot's need rose towards a fever pitch, the Bond made it harder and harder to distinguish it from Fang's, the two feeding together until they threatened to become the same. She might not have been able to physically feel the Witch's arousal through it, but her writhing did more than enough to stoke Fang's own. Gods, it felt like her skin was on fire.]
[The turnskin shifted again, one knee coming between Chariot's legs. Which... unfortunately pinned the skirt down, but Fang's thoughts were becoming difficult to keep in line; all she thought of in that instant was giving her partner something to grind against, and pressed her knee against her heat through the layers of fabric.]
[But she still wanted more. Supporting herself on her elbows, her other hand knocked the other half of the brassier askew, that hand finding the neglected nipple and tending to it just like the other. Fang parted, heaving for air, and after a few frantic breaths turned her attention to suckling at whatever part of Chariot's neck or collar was closest.
[ The press of Fang's knee accomplished two things, the best being exactly what Fang intended for it with Chariot grinding hard against her, clamping her thighs around her bonded's leg as best she could. The second was it put enough strain on the closures for the button threads to sheer away, opening it up, showing just the barest hint of matching black panties beneath.
Not that she thought Fang saw that. Nor did she really care that she missed it. This was exactly the ferocity Chariot had wanted from her bonded, murmuring out an elated exclamation of Fang's name before arching her back completely, her hands grasping at Fang's, fingertips digging in as she felt herself lose all reason completely, letting instinct and reflex guide her completely.
Their hunger and adoration had mixed together in such a powerful emotional cocktail of lust, Chariot gave up on collective thoughts entirely, just letting herself feel and writhe beneath Fang's love. ]
[Giving up on collective thoughts was amazingly enticing, and Fang largely did just that, but she had to retain just enough to remember the multitude of reasons why couldn't nip at skin, why she couldn't possessively dig in her nails or scratch or otherwise utilize her hands as much as she'd like to. Fang didn't realize she'd growled again, another faint rumble on a panting exhale.]
[It was frustrating, but it egged Fang almost much as her partner's cries, grinding with her knee in something that vaguely resembled a rhythm. She redoubled her efforts at Chariot's neck, drowning in the taste and feel of the skin until she was sure it'd leave a dark mark. The drumbeat of the Witch's heart and her breath thundered in her ears, and Fang groaned Chariot's name against her neck, lost as to whose desire she was drowning in. Her own hips rolled forward a little, finding no purchase.]
[ A mark that would no doubt persist well into the next day. But she had no presence of mind to be embarrassed by that, or any of what was happening in that moment. She had never, in her life, heard her name said like that. It was like a bolt shot through her, turning the blazing fires beneath her skin even hotter. She sucked in a desperate breath, keening beneath Fang's affections, feeling that it was so much and yet still not enough.
One hand clutched at Fang's hair, fingertips digging into the scalp, but the other caught the hem of her bottoms, tugging insistently, desperately, wanting them off and gone. She couldn't just let herself feel Fang's passion any longer, she needed an outlet of her own. ]
[That bolt shot through the Bond just as clearly. Before she could act on it, her Bonded's tugging on her, asking something of her; one of Fang's hands immediately joined the Witch's at the hem.]
[Thought was so far away, so Fang acted solely on that desire for them to be gone, an amplified version of a smaller want from before. Fang's fingers shifted, her real claws melting out of flesh to curl into and shred the side of her shorts; a few sold yanks tore the rest of it off. She ground her knee forward steadily, her hips rolling a little with it, eager in neglected need.]
[Fleeting as thought was, though, there was one thing that stood out like a beacon in the Bond.]
Chariot.
[It was easy to replicate the way she'd groaned her name, low and insistent, especially with the Witch's fingers against her scalp and her delightful noises and the heady, broiling feeling of the Bond.]
[ It felt just as invigorating the second time, and now that there was no more garment in the way, she could show Fang fully what that utterance of her name was inspiring. Her fingertips found Fang's folds, her arousal intense and apparent, and began to press against them, past them, seeking out beneath its hood that pink bundle of nerves, pinching it between her fingers, all the while scraping her fingernail's against her bonded's scalp. ]
[She found what she was looking for easily enough, and Fang gasped in relief, that needy sound also carrying an immediate want of more. She couldn't stop pressing against those fingers eagerly, a little of her weight sinking into the Witch as her focus and ministrations faltered.]
[This time when she uttered her name, there was a little more of an upward pitch, compared to the last two. She wasn't still long; her hand returned to roaming this wonderful woman's body almost reverently, learning and ghosting touches over any sensitive spot she found, and her knee resumed its movement, if more erratically.]
[ Chariot didn't precisely know what she was doing with her hand, but Fang was sending her all the signals she needed, whether through her own responses or through the bond, to guide her, fingers working feverishly to briskly rub and pinch at that nub. Her own hips were rolling just as desperately against Fang's knee, but it hardly felt like enough... ]
M-my skirt... [ It needed to be gone, all of it did. She wanted to feel herself against Fang as close as she could ]
[There was no delay between that plea and Fang's hand finding the hem and hooking beneath it and her underwear both; her claws extended and in a moment, those were torn open like the rest.]
[The intensity of the scent Fang hadn't expected, but this was her first time with another since coming into her enhanced senses; it would have excited her if she could grow any more so. Her hand drifted down to her partner's core before Fang paused with a frustrated little sound amid her gasps. Her fingers curled into a loose fist before seeking out her Bonded's clit and taking it between two second knuckles, rubbing and stroking. Damned nails.]
[Fang tried to keep her rhythm steady, but inexperienced or not, Chariot's attentions were certainly doing what she intended it to and was highly distracting.]
[ Good enough for her. Chariot cried out when Fang hit her stride, writhing beneath her as her hips jerked and rolled against her touch, her own growing sporadic, having little rhythm to it to focus her passion. All she could focus on was the pleasure, the bliss of it, feeling every heavy, hot emotion of her bonded behind every slight action.
She definitely wasn't going to last long like this. She could already feel everything start to coil and tighten, biting her lip and squeaking out whimpering moans, trying to keep herself muted and failing miserably. ]
[Fang wouldn't last long either, lost in the sheer ardor of it all, the overwhelming, intermingled feeling of the Bond drowning out anything else that wasn't Chariot's touch, her beautiful form, her wonderful sounds. If she hadn't been caught up in her own blissful sensations, Fang would've been a little disappointed by her partner's vocal restraint.]
[The arm supporting Fang trembled until her weight mostly collapsed into the Witch, unable to keep herself up while approaching the edge so quickly. She buried her face in the crook of her Bonded's neck since she was there, free hand snaking up to tangle in vermilion hair, groaning Chariot's name over and over.]
[Fang didn't know what the deal was with her secrecy and the tremendous significance that name held, but as long as she felt it resonate brightly through the Bond, felt it shake her partner for the better, Fang would say it to her.]
[ Because it was that name on the lips of a lover, something that seemed like an impossibility to her before. Each utterance of it, in junction with Fang's touch, the rush of her inferno of passion surrounding her in its flames, baptising her in that love. As the orgasm rushed through her, as she felt herself come, she felt herself be reborn in that love...
... Or at least enough that she could begin to let herself begin to let go of the shackles that 'darkened' her 'shine', for Fang's sake of not her own. ]
[If the fire in her soul could do more than leave destruction in its wake, for once, everything about them was worth it—if she could for once be a flame that sheltered someone from the shadows that haunted them instead of a beacon of ruin. If Chariot could handle her volatile nature without being burned, Fang would give her heart in full. Even if what was between them was fleeting and doomed to brevity, either by the nature of this world or the paths they choose down the road, it would never be insignificant.]
[Fang continued to murmur her lover's name for as long as she could, her touches turning gentle as she felt Chariot release. Her own wits were stolen from her not long after, shuddering and gasping breathlessly into Chariot's shoulder, her motions going still.]
[Her mind suddenly felt as hypersensitive as her senses, in the wake of that. The Bond... gods, the Bond was overwhelming. Why had they danced around this for so long?]
[ Chariot, with the last of the strength she had, clutched the linen sheet and tossed it over them both. It was a hot late-summer night, to be sure, but she knew they'd appreciate the cover no less, catching her breath and just resting in the glow of what had just transpired. Her heart was still racing, but she could feel her pulse start to steady. But more than that, the bond between them was a torrent of ecstasy and almost possessive adoration, Fang's will for her flames mixing with Chariot's regard for her own 'shine'.
In that moment, she was fully herself, the brilliant star she had once been, soaking in the applause and joy and smiles of others, or at least the love of her bonded. It would only last a few moments, but it was, in that brief moment, free of her guilt and anxieties. It was free of the shame of stealing away the dreams of others...
It was just her, and Fang, and the blissful currents of the bond to gently carry them into sleep. She pressed a kiss to Fang's forehead, murmuring. ]
I love you... [ The bond made it so she never had to say that... but it still felt good to do so. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
for fang; thread continuation / nsfw
[ Chariot wanted to give some clever response back, but Fang's attack on her neck completely derailed any attempt at words. Or even thought, for that matter. She gasped, back arching beneath Fang, the bond flooding with desire and affection now that both parties had given their enthusiastic consent. This was already different from that morning with Ramesses, the emotions of the bond heightening her senses well beyond the threshold she'd nearly gotten used to.
If she was a star that 'shined' for those she loved, then she was brilliant enough to be the sun itself in that moment, her free hand clenching at any fabric on Fang she could, giving insistent tugs, admitting to herself she didn't... actually know how to undress the other, but she didn't want to let go at all, either. ]
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[She might have accidentally growled, a little bit—a low, pleased, leisurely rumble, followed by a microscopic flicker of embarrassment. The turnskin kept kissing her Bonded's neck, since it seemed so welcome, as the arm not bearing her weight plucked at the sash around her waist. The ruined dress-like robe she'd borrowed hung loosely around her, and Fang honestly didn't care if Chariot tore it off her. Hell, she'd probably do the same, if her Bonded took too long. There was nothing else to the ensemble than that, other than the usual shorts and bra Fang wore without a hint of modesty, and her regular jewelry.]
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For her own, she'd opted out of wearing her bodysuit and robes, maybe subconsciously wanting to have something nicer for the festival, but the blouse, vest, and skirt still had not more than buttons holding him closed, buttons that wouldn't hold up much against her bonded's strength.
Passed over the bond was the permission to do just that, meeting Fang's own lack of care, and maybe just the tiniest bit of curiosity of what it would feel like to be so ravaged beneath Fang's passion. The other time had been much slower, calm, after all, and without nearly the amount of heat and need behind it.
She didn't want Fang to hold back. She was convinced she was ready for it. ]
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[Button thread was thin; even without resorting to her "retracted" claws, it took scant moments to slide the new points of her nails under the button holes, an easy yank tearing the weakened thread apart; the dislocated buttons scattered and clicked across the floor, soon to be lost to the disorganization.]
[The turnskin's fingers eagerly found the exposed flesh, ghosting across Chariot's pale skin, careful not to leave a single scratch with her pointed nai—]
[Hold up. Pointed nails?]
[Fang paused, lifting her hand to glare at it. This time, the quiet feline growl emanating from her was nothing short of irritated by this annoying irony.]
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But it also meant she definitely noticed what Fang noticed when she noticed it. And for a moment, she was confused. Why was it an issue? She'd been careful up until now and...
Oh. Oh that's right. Chariot's eyebrow's arched, looking sympathetic as she reached to once more cup Fang's cheek with her hand.
However she figured to proceed, Chariot was sure it would be fine. She trusted Fang to know what she was doing, even if she ran into some roadblocks. It was pretty obvious she was way more experienced, between the two of them. She had to put her faith in Fang. ]
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[The Bond really did add a whole other layer to this. Already, they were becoming more deft at controlling and interpreting those little impulses of emotions without accompanying though. Between that touch and that feeling, Fang knew exactly what Chariot wanted to tell her—no, what she did say.]
[Fang's grin was back soon enough. Whatever. She had opinions.]
Don't you worry. I'll get creative, if I have to.
[Words still held their appeal sometimes, though. The turnskin kissed that flush across her partner's chest as she pushed the blouse off, a little disappointed Chariot's hand had to leave her hair for that.]
Anything I should know?
[Fang wasn't aware of the exact depth of Chariot's inexperience. Her words were light, but the Bond carried consideration amid the desire, genuinely interested in what the Witch liked and disliked. For such an assertive—and often aggressive—individual, Fang was oddly eager to please, her world's focus narrowed down the single point that was her Bonded.]
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Ah... n-no, I'm just... still very new to all of this.
[ Prior to that morning with Ramesses, she had been a virgin. And even then, he'd only used his mouth and after that opted to simply snuggle with her while she slept. Beyond that, the only experience she'd had were her own hands. She hadn't even used toys before. Fang had a whole world to show her... ]
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[But the consideration from before remained. It would've even given her pause, had Fang not had insight into what Chariot wanted—had she not been able to feel her desire and curiosity for the passion Fang harbored. Again, the turnskin trusted her Bonded to be her own judge in that regard. And their link was reassuring, besides; she'd be able to tell what her partner truly enjoyed and didn't, just from the emotional kickback, and let it guide her.]
[She sucked at the sensitive skin insistently one last time, before shifting, straddling the witch's hips and hovering over her for a moment.]
Let's figure it out, then. [Fang murmured kissing her again, hungrier than even the last time, keeping Chariot's want for her blazing intensity in mind. She kept that other want in mind too—that one that rose in response to Fang's disregard for her own clothing; her hand trailed up the witch's stomach until it found that thin connection between the two halves of the brassiere, snapping it with a firm twist of her fingers.]
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The halves of the brassiere fell loose, Chariot using her free hand to pull one half aside, exposing part of her chest fully to Fang. She was already so worked up and feeling her own hunger, the rosy blush had extended to her breast, and the pert nipple as well. ]
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[The Bond changed so much about this kind of intimacy. It readily fed Fang'd desire, fueled by that wonderful excitement and hunger. Seeing and hearing the reactions were reward enough, but feeling the direct result of her actions... utterly intoxicating.]
[She'd have to part from the blistering kiss soon, but not yet; it felt too important. Fang's hand returned to splay against Chariot's side, feeling—exploring, memorizing, appreciating—every contour it glided over on its path to the breast it was invited to. She kneaded it gently a couple times before her thumb brushed over that peak, back and forth and around with ghosting touchs, taunting the sensitive flesh.]
[As eager as Chariot was, Fang wanted to see how much she could draw out, how hot she could stoke that heat in her blood, how high she could bring her partner before cresting that precipice at the end of this.]
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For someone who'd been so tired moving her arms was a herculian task before, she felt like she couldn't stop moving now, squirming under her bonded. Her free hand moved to the closure of her skirt, fussing with the buttons, letting out a frustrated whimper. ]
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[The turnskin shifted again, one knee coming between Chariot's legs. Which... unfortunately pinned the skirt down, but Fang's thoughts were becoming difficult to keep in line; all she thought of in that instant was giving her partner something to grind against, and pressed her knee against her heat through the layers of fabric.]
[But she still wanted more. Supporting herself on her elbows, her other hand knocked the other half of the brassier askew, that hand finding the neglected nipple and tending to it just like the other. Fang parted, heaving for air, and after a few frantic breaths turned her attention to suckling at whatever part of Chariot's neck or collar was closest.
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Not that she thought Fang saw that. Nor did she really care that she missed it. This was exactly the ferocity Chariot had wanted from her bonded, murmuring out an elated exclamation of Fang's name before arching her back completely, her hands grasping at Fang's, fingertips digging in as she felt herself lose all reason completely, letting instinct and reflex guide her completely.
Their hunger and adoration had mixed together in such a powerful emotional cocktail of lust, Chariot gave up on collective thoughts entirely, just letting herself feel and writhe beneath Fang's love. ]
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[It was frustrating, but it egged Fang almost much as her partner's cries, grinding with her knee in something that vaguely resembled a rhythm. She redoubled her efforts at Chariot's neck, drowning in the taste and feel of the skin until she was sure it'd leave a dark mark. The drumbeat of the Witch's heart and her breath thundered in her ears, and Fang groaned Chariot's name against her neck, lost as to whose desire she was drowning in. Her own hips rolled forward a little, finding no purchase.]
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One hand clutched at Fang's hair, fingertips digging into the scalp, but the other caught the hem of her bottoms, tugging insistently, desperately, wanting them off and gone. She couldn't just let herself feel Fang's passion any longer, she needed an outlet of her own. ]
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[Thought was so far away, so Fang acted solely on that desire for them to be gone, an amplified version of a smaller want from before. Fang's fingers shifted, her real claws melting out of flesh to curl into and shred the side of her shorts; a few sold yanks tore the rest of it off. She ground her knee forward steadily, her hips rolling a little with it, eager in neglected need.]
[Fleeting as thought was, though, there was one thing that stood out like a beacon in the Bond.]
Chariot.
[It was easy to replicate the way she'd groaned her name, low and insistent, especially with the Witch's fingers against her scalp and her delightful noises and the heady, broiling feeling of the Bond.]
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[This time when she uttered her name, there was a little more of an upward pitch, compared to the last two. She wasn't still long; her hand returned to roaming this wonderful woman's body almost reverently, learning and ghosting touches over any sensitive spot she found, and her knee resumed its movement, if more erratically.]
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M-my skirt... [ It needed to be gone, all of it did. She wanted to feel herself against Fang as close as she could ]
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[The intensity of the scent Fang hadn't expected, but this was her first time with another since coming into her enhanced senses; it would have excited her if she could grow any more so. Her hand drifted down to her partner's core before Fang paused with a frustrated little sound amid her gasps. Her fingers curled into a loose fist before seeking out her Bonded's clit and taking it between two second knuckles, rubbing and stroking. Damned nails.]
[Fang tried to keep her rhythm steady, but inexperienced or not, Chariot's attentions were certainly doing what she intended it to and was highly distracting.]
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She definitely wasn't going to last long like this. She could already feel everything start to coil and tighten, biting her lip and squeaking out whimpering moans, trying to keep herself muted and failing miserably. ]
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[The arm supporting Fang trembled until her weight mostly collapsed into the Witch, unable to keep herself up while approaching the edge so quickly. She buried her face in the crook of her Bonded's neck since she was there, free hand snaking up to tangle in vermilion hair, groaning Chariot's name over and over.]
[Fang didn't know what the deal was with her secrecy and the tremendous significance that name held, but as long as she felt it resonate brightly through the Bond, felt it shake her partner for the better, Fang would say it to her.]
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... Or at least enough that she could begin to let herself begin to let go of the shackles that 'darkened' her 'shine', for Fang's sake of not her own. ]
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[Fang continued to murmur her lover's name for as long as she could, her touches turning gentle as she felt Chariot release. Her own wits were stolen from her not long after, shuddering and gasping breathlessly into Chariot's shoulder, her motions going still.]
[Her mind suddenly felt as hypersensitive as her senses, in the wake of that. The Bond... gods, the Bond was overwhelming. Why had they danced around this for so long?]
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In that moment, she was fully herself, the brilliant star she had once been, soaking in the applause and joy and smiles of others, or at least the love of her bonded. It would only last a few moments, but it was, in that brief moment, free of her guilt and anxieties. It was free of the shame of stealing away the dreams of others...
It was just her, and Fang, and the blissful currents of the bond to gently carry them into sleep. She pressed a kiss to Fang's forehead, murmuring. ]
I love you... [ The bond made it so she never had to say that... but it still felt good to do so. ]
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