Aspel Cassul: When in doubt, Aspel! (weaponry) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-12-03 18:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, arielle chiaro, aspel cassul |
You should know, that I always get my way, so you should hook me up...
Who: Aspel & Ari
What: “You’re better, right?”
Where: Aspel’s apartment.
When: Late last night/early this morning
Rating: NC-17
Status: COMPLETE!
The brief messages had been odd. In fact, so odd, that it left Aspel looking at her communicator with a sense of confusion, and awe at the exact same time. Had she ever seen Ari use so few words? Well, of course she had. At least once, if not twice. However, it was not often at all. Though, the… Pushiness had spurred a strange sort of curiosity all of its own. The messages were read, and re-read in silence as the smith had remained sitting sideways on her couch, legs and feet extended all the way out. With the past week laid up in bed, it was amazing that the idea of sitting home this eve hadn’t driven her stir crazy but… Just the reality of everything had left her a bit jostled. People she knew, people she loved had run off on some crazy mission, risked their lives, gotten desperately hurt, and come back with a cure… It was… Mind boggling in a sense. Surely, there were enough sick people that it made sense that so many would be invested. Though, the connection Aspel herself played in all of it - to some degree - remained lost upon herself. Scrolling through the messages continued to leave her in a state of suspended disconnection. A venture out had been made for dinner, the first night she could actually stomach real food in about a week. Considering what her condition had been, she’d managed to put down a decent amount of food, but still, not nearly a normal meal. It would take a bit of time to get back there. Regardless of herself, regardless of the tiny details, it certainly did seem that life would return to normal with as few hitches as possible. It was strange how so much could happen in so little time. Eyes had continued to wander over the communicator's screen but none of it was really absorbed anymore. How had they gotten here? How far had they come? Since when did Aspel think, and ponder in groups instead of singular? With the exception of Mag of course. Faram, who was this ominous ‘we’ she was even considering anyway? Where were her thoughts going? In fact, while she were at it, where had they gone? When did Aspel Cassul, fallen, repenting, trying to make things right, turned into someone who had comfort, and a pool of friends? Was this the life she had been working for? Her jaw tensed a bit. Could she keep this up? What if…. And a noise signaled someone down at the door. Blinking with a shake of her head it took a moment to realize that the noise had - in fact - not come from her communicator. “Mm.” Sighing, Aspel pulled herself from the couch and headed downstairs. Apparently, it was now time to let Ari in. The last day had passed in something of a daze. She had left the cave without any significant wounds remaining, but feeling drained and winded. She had spent the subsequent hike talking to as few people as possible, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, reminding herself in her exhaustion that all of this was nearly over and that she would reach her bed soon. They had won. The illness would be cured. (And if she had a few new problems, she wasn’t going to consider them for now.) Aud was doing well -- she had dragged herself out to wish her a happy birthday (“What do you mean, I didn’t get you anything -- you’re going to get better, aren’t you?”) but fallen asleep on her sitting room couch, dozed again in the hovercab home, and then slept until hunger and a desperate craving for coffee had awakened her just before midnight. She hadn’t been able to help herself as she sat in her brightly lit kitchen. She knew that Aspel was probably still recovering and most likely sleeping, but what could be the harm in sending a message? The worst case scenario -- that she would see the message sometime in the morning -- wasn’t so bad. (That she would see it at all was a victory in and of itself.) But a response had come, and before she knew it, Ari was bundling up, sweater and scarf and cloak, and heading out into the chilly night. In the end, wasn’t action so much simpler than trying to think about things? She had wasted far too much time thinking recently. When the door was opened, she couldn’t help the relieved, honest smile that bloomed across her face. There was Aspel, standing on her own two feet, and maybe she looked a bit dazed, too, but she was worlds better than she had been the last time Ari had been here -- and, hopefully, in possession of her balance once more, considering Ari’s first, irresistible urge was to throw her arms around the other woman’s neck and hold on for a moment, before she said anything. Though she supposed she ought to say something, but all that came immediately to mind was -- “Hi.” Aspel hadn’t been entirely ready for the hug that was to come, but thankfully, she’d always been steady on her feet. Feeling the bard’s arms immediately latch around her neck, Aspel leaned forward slightly, automatically moving to wrap her arms around the other woman’s waist without a thought as she pulled the bard close. How long had it been since they touched? The last vague memory she had was while halfway in daze, and before that? After the battle with the monsters who had come through the snowstorm, but that contact her been brief, fleeting really due to chill and injury. Had it really been at least two weeks? The thought left her with a vague sense of discomfort. How…… Odd. Instead of trying to give anything a bit of thought more, the smith allowed a relieved sigh to escape, letting her eyes close for a moment as cool air seeped in around them into the forge. Tucking her head down a bit, the contact was savored, that was, until Ari spoke once more. Opening her eyes, then wetting her lips, Aspel allowed a soft smile to cross her lips. “Good eve.” The smile picked up a bit. “Shall you come in fully so that I may be allowed to close the door, or shall we let the house become as cold as outdoors?” Her voice was soft, gentle even in the slight jest which had just been made. A laugh escaped Ari’s lips. “There you go again, being practical,” she said. She hadn’t been thinking of the cold. Actually, she had not been thinking much at all; she had needed to express her relief somehow and for once, words seemed too difficult to come by. “I suppose I ought to let you go so that we don’t both freeze to death.” True to her word, she loosened her hold and stepped inside, waiting for Aspel to close and lock the door. “You look better,” she said. “I take it you have simply slept too much in the last week to be bothered with it tonight? Don’t tell me you were sitting up, waiting for me to resurface.” Her expression would identify this last statement as a joke; she doubted Aspel had had time to worry about her much; even if she had known that Ari had gone, the news that everyone had returned alive and more or less in one piece would have come along with the news of a cure. “You said you felt better,” she said. “Do you, really? By my definition, not yours,” she felt the need to clarify. Because if not, then she would say little else -- just ascertaining Aspel’s relative health would be enough. “Because if so, I have a proposition for you.” “I fear one of us must.” The tease came easy, settling back into a pattern of normalcy once again seemed simpler than even she had completely expected. Then of course, the quiet would not last for long as Ari launched into a tirade of words, from which, Aspel could simply only smile in response to, letting the other woman carry on a nearly one sided conversation except for when response felt needed, or appropriate. The door was taken care of, and the smith turned, allowing her gaze to linger over the other woman, seeming to consider something a bit deeper than just the two of them currently standing here. “Mm.” Was the only confirmation to how she looked before an eyebrow quirked upward regarding her preferences for sleep, or not, and the reasoning why. An amused huff of air escaped at the theory. “Ah, how I have been caught I fear.” A gentle tease, her normal pace of speech not quite back to normal, but still it remained coherent, and clearly collected. Though, the last question, and statement, seemed to be a sort of… Sticker. Tilting her head to one side, the bard would be regarded with further consideration, brows slightly furrowing after a moment. “My appetite has not fully returned, but that is to be expected.” The words were slow, measured to a degree as a mental checklist was gone over regarding her current state. “Otherwise, I do not ache, I do not feel… Mentally hampered by anything other than my own thoughts. There are no delusions or hallucinations.” Aspel’s gaze fell away, an attempt to give the question her attention as much as possible for a full answer to be appropriately sussed out. “I suspect I am still a bit slow, but I fear that simply a consequence of being ill so severely, and for so long.” Then there was that tumultuous blend of emotions that churned, and stewed inside of her, unsure of how to completely manifest themselves yet. However, that felt as if it hardly belonged here. A pause was taken, as Aspel wet her lips. Half her mind torn on one answer, and the other half prompting for another. “I must admit,” Her eyes rose to meet Ari’s. “You have my curiosity with such a statement, yet I fear I must also offer something a bit somber in response as well.” A slow breath was inhaled, chest rising before she would continue. “Since when has our relation ever called for you to proposition me?” No fever, no pain, no confusion -- in Ari’s point of view, that more than made up for some lack of appetite and a little slowness. It was, for all intents and purposes, quite well, in a comparative sense. Good enough. And it seemed Aspel had some idea exactly what she was proposing, if her follow-up question was anything to go by; Ari’s smile turned a little sly as she said, “Aspel, if you haven’t noticed me propositioning you previously, you have not been paying attention. Keep up.” She made her way over, looped her arms around Aspel’s neck once again, though this time, instead of clinging to her, she stood just a bit back, so she could continue holding the other woman’s gaze. “Nothing is rampaging through the city. For once, neither of us is broken, mortally ill, or... otherwise indisposed. No one is presently calling for you to be a hero. None of our friends appear to be in immediate peril. Honestly? With our lives as they have been lately, I can’t imagine when we’re going to encounter another such night. I think,” she rose to her toes, placed a lingering kiss against Aspel’s lips, more relieved than she could truly express that she could do so, “that we should go upstairs and seize the moment,” she finished finally, pulling back. “That’s my proposition -- take it or leave it. Though I must admit, if you don’t take it, I might begin to think I was right all those months ago when I was convinced you weren’t interested.” "I fear it more to be the time within which you have done such, than the fact that you have." Hadn't they gotten past that part? They both knew what they wanted, neither had denied the other in some time but... Their lives had not exactly lined up quite so well. It wasn't hard for Ari to take command of Aspel's attention with her accent, tone, and the way she looked in the dimly lit workshop. Hands fell to the other woman's waist, resting easily with how well they seem to fit. It was hard to remember a time when she hadn't been able to touch Ari this way, even if she knew it to be a truth. The word hero earned a dismissive scoff, and a brief shake of the smith's head. In fact, Ari's entire statement was one that Aspel was about to disagree with. That was of course, until the other woman pressed their lips together and reminded Aspel just how much she had missed Ari's kiss. Though, when it broke, the smith's eyes remained closed a moment longer, listening to just what the bard had to say before opening her eyes once again. With a pause, Aspel would wet her lips considering the options laid out before her, and just how well functioning she actually was after nearly having her brain baked by fever into a permanently induced stupor. "You must pardon me if I am a bit slow, no?" Ari’s laugh was low, breathy, and amused. That was not a no. And that was all she required. “I am going to be the eternal optimist,” she said, taking a tiny step closer so that their bodies brushed, “and say that tempo is unlikely to be a source of concern. Perhaps we will balance each other out.” She had been waiting so long, and now that she was here, the fact that she hadn’t mentioned that the counter seemed plenty wide enough, really, was a great show of self restraint. She pulled Aspel’s head down for another kiss, letting this one spin out longer, allowing it to deepen as her lips parted on a sigh. She tugged Aspel’s lower lip between her teeth, stroked over it with her tongue. All of this was so unlike her, this waiting, this patience. One hand slipped down and under the hem of Aspel’s shirt, then up again along her spine to press them closer. She was done with patience. She pulled back from the kiss so that her lips could meander up the line of Aspel’s jaw to her ear. “I still owe you that mark,” she murmured, fingers making quick work of the clasp of her cloak until it fell heavy to the floor behind her. “We’ll get to that, I hope. But more importantly, either we go upstairs, or your shirt winds up on the floor of your shop. Do let me know which you prefer.” A slow, accented exhale was the immediate response to the closeness Ari initiated. "Is that so?" Was all Aspel could manage to get out in one breathy response before being tugged into another kiss. This one was longer, deeper, more provoking, and... The sudden feel of a hand pulling her close earned a low gasp. Though clearly, Ari would not be done there and the smith found she couldn't manage anything, but to assist in accommodating Ari's continued exploration by shifting forward, and tilting her head to one side. A hard swallow was all that would allow the smith to speak as the other woman continued to wind her up. "Even if we are to relocate," Aspel leaned back while still being within Ari's grip. "I do believe Mag shall need a marker." With that, she shifted, beginning to pull her shirt off in one easy movement, with, or without, the bard's help. Upon successful removal, a devilish smile rose. "I think the counter shall suit, no?" The smile was returned in kind -- how far they had come that Aspel was willing to stand naked from the waist up and grin challenge at her! -- and she said, “The counter could suit for a great many things.” What better celebration of life could there be than this, after all? “At the moment,” she tugged the shirt out of Aspel’s grasp and tossed it over the counter, “it shall suit for the shirt, however. And I would hate to be interrupted.” No squires with poor timing at The Armory, fortunately. And Mag was a sensible woman; she would turn around and leave at the sight of the discarded clothing. Another kiss was initiated then, her hands coming up between them to stroke over bare skin. She could feel her pulse quickening as she cupped the other woman’s breasts in her hands. If only she weren’t worried about Aspel’s current state of recovery, she might very well have simply wrapped both legs around her waist and urged her to bed, but as it was, she was a little concerned about the other woman’s ability to haul her up the stairs; instead, she maneuvered her back towards the counter, wedging one thigh between Aspel's legs as she pressed closer. Maybe the counter would suit for more than just the shirt, after all? She was really starting to see the appeal of the scenario. "Then," a pause with a slow inhale followed the singular word. "I see no reason not to start there." Following along with Ari's directions was easy, especially with how eager the other woman clearly was. A kiss, a careful forward walk, and then... Aspel swallowed a hard moan, managing barely not to gasp at the feel of the bard's thigh between her legs. "Not fair." Came the breathily, mumbled words against the other woman's hair as fingers dug into Ari's hips. "Play nice now, no?" A whisper as she leaned in, pressing her body against the smaller woman's to obtain a proper position to allow teeth to scrape over Ari's earlobe. Though, the action would only take a seconds before - with a slight growl - Aspel would attempt to lift the bard up into a sitting position on the counter before her. "It would not be proper hosting etiquette to allow you all this work without reward." With that, hands trailed down, pulling at the hem of Ari's sweater, in attempts to get at her leggings. “I’m done with fair,” Ari informed her with a laugh that turned into a pleased hum when teeth scraped her earlobe. “I suppose,” she tilted her head to allow Aspel better access, “I could be convinced to try for ‘nice’ if that’s what you prefer. I can be --” The word accommodating was lost to a gasp as Aspel picked her up and deposited her on the countertop. “Proper etiquette, yes, of course, we need to have --” The hands tugging at her sweater would not be missed, and she changed trains of thought instantly saying, “Here, let me.” With a pull, the oversized garment was removed and tossed somewhere behind her; she was grinning as she said, “It was in the way.” “I would prefer,” Aspel’s face tilted slightly to the side, as hands continued to work below the shirt to pull at the leggings. “to hear you to scream my name.” Tongue slid against the lobe of the other woman’s ear briefly, before Aspel was forced to pull back. Allowing the bard the room she needed to discard the sweater would bring its own reward though as a plethora of bare flesh was now easily exposed to her. “Quite.” Was all the agreement that would be earned regarding how the smith viewed the application of clothing in their current situation. Yet, any other words were easily lost as Aspel leaned in pressing a kiss to the center of Ari’s bare chest. That sort of forceful statement couldn’t possibly be misconstrued, and just the thought of it sent shivers of anticipation up Ari’s spine. Before the other woman could pull away from tormenting her earlobe, Ari answered, her voice rich with challenge, as if issuing a dare: “Make me.” And oh, she did hope that Aspel would accept the challenge at hand. A sigh was elicited from the feel of lips on her bare skin. The sweater now no longer a deterrent, Ari leaned back to rest on her elbows (it turned out that she had been quite correct about the adequate width of the counter), then, considering Aspel was standing just close enough, used her leg to wrap around the other woman’s waist and tug her closer. “Come here.” Only one elbow was really needed for balance, with her free hand she reached out to slide her fingers through Aspel’s hair, a gentle but insistent pull following as she attempted to initiate another kiss. "As you wish." The words came out low, half seeming to be listening to do the bard's bidding, while the other half could easily be construed as a challenge all of their own. The gauntlet had been thrown, and a Cassul - especially, this Cassul - was never one to leave a challenge without giving it their all. Surely, this task would not bring about…. An unpleasant end at all. Even if in Ordalia she'd heard it called the little death far more than once. "I thought you would never ask." The words were a joke, the smirk across her lips a clear indication of such, and the feeling of Ari's leg pulling her close was one that - dear Faram - she had missed. A slight moan was earned with the direction Ari desired being followed via fingers pulling at her hair. This time - unlike the ones before - a bit of fire accompanied the smith's side of the kiss as she pressed forward, leaning into the other woman's body, and pushing with her tongue. It was a welcome change from how she had previously felt withdrawn, disconnected from the world, but with each second passing, and each new touch, it helped to remind Aspel that perhaps, she wasn't so dead, and wasted after all. It would take a moment, but finally, the smith would move to break the kiss, pressing her forehead against the other woman's as eyes trailed down over the firm young body beneath her. "Yet I am not done," A hand shifted up to allow a her thumb to run a gentle line down the center of Ari's body. "with this yet." Pulling away slightly, eyes wandered over the flesh apparent to her once again, carefully weighing each smooth bit of skin against each section of slightly marred flesh. Pulling back - but only a little - lips were pressed against the bard's shoulder. Hands moved to grasp firmly at the other woman's hips as whispered words were sprinkled between a trail of butterfly light kisses leading down the the center of the bard's body. With each continued word, intermingled with gentle affection a soft green glow would begin to work its magick in mending tender flesh. Aspel pulling away from the heated meeting of lips was unfortunate, but her subsequent words and actions elicited another sigh accompanied with a brief, breathy laugh. “I should hope not,” Ari said. If Aspel had been done, how incredibly disappointing would it have been? Though, as the other woman proceeded to trail kisses down her torso, it did take Ari a moment to realize what exactly she was doing; the words seemed like gibberish until they resolved themselves in her mind, coupled with the soft warmth of the healing magic, trailing over her skin in the wake of the kisses, and she had to admit, this was the first time something so simple as a Cure had made her feel quite like this. She didn’t even feel the desire to point out that she was fine, really, better than, as Aspel’s lips continued their journey downward. And though she, too, wanted to taste and touch, to wrap her arms around the other woman, legs tangling together, for the moment she was content to simply let her eyes flutter closed, as another, shakier exhale of breath followed. "Then your hope is my truth." Would be all the response earned in such an intimate juncture. Fingers dug into the bards hips slightly as Aspel's tongue dipped into the other woman's navel. Only a couple kisses further down would be administered, a definite desire to venture lower shelved for the time being. Hands slid up easily over the other woman's sides, thumbs lingering behind as the smith once more leaned in, and forward searching for another kiss. This one came a bit hard, forceful in its own right, as hands moved to explore the exposed flesh of the other woman's back if only briefly. "I suspect if this is our start, we shall need to next figure out our middle." The words were a warm whisper, a tease before a chaste kiss was placed against Ari's cheek. There was clearly something devilish there, they had begun a game, and Aspel was always one to see them through. “I suspect,” Ari mimicked, her own tone breathy after the kiss had broken, “that we are up to the challenge.” And while she would certainly not have been opposed to Aspel’s lips continuing their descent, there were a number of ways through the middle -- and to the desired end. Her hands snaked down between them, fingers sliding down the other woman’s torso and then still further to slip beneath her waistband. She intended to get very well acquainted with Aspel’s hipbones, and soon, if the reactions she had had to such touches previously were any indication. “If I am to express a preference,” she said, applying the slightest pressure as she used a combination of her leg and her hands on Aspel’s hips to pull the other woman closer, “then as long as it gets your hands on me, I can’t possibly complain; still, I think we ought to get rid of these as well.” No more words would be exchanged in the moment aside from low grunt of agreement between kisses against Ari's jaw line, which then moved to trail down the other woman's neck. Nails would dig into the bard's back, a choked off whine dying in her throat at the feel of pressure against hips, and a heavy pant heating the other woman's neck. "Yes." Nails left light marks in their wake as hands shifted, moving to grasp at the back of the leggings, giving them another pull. There had been so much going on previous that while her hands ventured down each time before Aspel's own desires had left her distracted. However, now with each other thought satiated in the moment, and Ari's clear urging, there was only one thing to do. Shifting forward, another kiss would be stolen as fingers pulled at the leggings, urging them down in hopes for her hands to obtain purchase to new skin soon. At the feel of Aspel’s nails scraping down her back, it was Ari’s turn to emit a needy whimper. A few heated kisses, a few touches, but her breathing was already quick and uneven, and the sound of that low yes and the pant of breath against her skin sent a thrill of anticipation through her. This had been, definitively, the best idea she’d had in weeks. But before she could begin fumbling with what remained of Aspel’s clothing, there were hands at her own waistband and lips once more on hers. She answered the kiss eagerly, with lips and tongue and just a nip of teeth, and lifted her hips, attempting to assist Aspel in her current task as best she could. With the lift of hips the material would be pulled down, easily peeling it away from the bard's body. The feeling of teeth earned a low, heavy exhale, and hands moved quicker, provoked into an increased pace of action. Of course, with the removal, Aspel would need to step back, a low grumble settled deep within her throat at the loss of bodily contact, but with the leggings yanked low enough, the smith would trust Ari's ability to remove them from her ankles. Giving just a few seconds to let eyes hungrily wander down over the bard, Aspel stepped back in. Her own hands would grab at the other woman's directing them to her own pants as the smith leaned in once more, her hands smoothing up Ari's outer thighs before gliding up to grab at the other woman's hips and gruffly pull her close once again. The wordless direction was easy to follow, fortunately; the moment her own legs were bare, ankle boots falling to the ground with a clatter as she shoved the leggings off her ankles and onto the floor, her hands went back to the temporarily abandoned button and zipper. Fortunately, even with Aspel tugging her closer, she was able to get the zipper down, which was all that was really needed before she could push the pants down over Aspel’s hips. She took a brief moment to enjoy stroking the newly exposed skin there, including the upper edge of the now-familiar brand, before giving the fabric one final pull down, trusting that with Aspel standing and wearing slacks as opposed to leggings, gravity would take care of the rest. And though from her current perch on the counter would make it impossible for her lips to follow the path of her hands, for the moment, that didn’t matter (she would get there, by and by). For now, with Aspel bringing her close once more, her lips found a spot at the base of Aspel’s neck as her hands began exploring the other woman’s hipbones, now finally unhindered by the barrier she had always had to make do with before. Fingers curled against Ari's skin, and muscles tensed at the attention paid to her now bare hips. A whimper was ripped from her throat, as attention to the other woman was difficult for a brief moment. It'd been so blasted long at this point, aside from Jareth when had she, when had someone... Eyes slipped closed, simply reveling in sensation for a moment longer with a roll of her head off to one side, to allow the bard easier access to her neck. "Faram." Came the reverent whisper from parted lips. A hard swallow, sending a spike of pain through her throat, would be an anchor back to the world in which she needed to participate. Nails dug into the bard's hips, and Aspel's head dipped attempting to meet the other woman for a kiss once more. The granted access was taken advantage of with relish, lips and tongue making their way up the column of Aspel’s throat as her hands continued their exploration, which was proving as fruitful as she had hoped. She had known the other woman was sensitive here, but just how much came as a pleasant surprise. There was nothing quite like an eagerly responsive partner, and she wanted… The thought was cut off as lips came together once more. Ari kissed the other woman back with increasing fervor, her own desire growing by the moment as Aspel gripped her hips and they pressed close, finally skin to skin and nothing to distract them from each other. She might have said, I have been wanting to touch you, when they finally broke for air, but she had been right to assume that a slowness of tempo was unlikely to be their problem; she did not really have the breath for the utterance any longer, and it was so much easier to simply do rather than say, one of her hands temporarily abandoning its exploration to skirt still lower, tracing down over the soft skin of the other woman’s inner thighs and then up again. Breathing easily turned ragged with each continued motion, each aggregation of desire, and forward press of arousal. The kiss would be pushed, deepening and elongating their previous meeting of lips from before. It wouldn't take long before the kiss was broken away from with a gasp, goosebumps began to rise where the other woman's fingers passed. "Not fair." The mumbled words were barely above a whisper, and absent, more a playful tease than housing any form of sincerity as a hand removed from Ari's hip, fingers ghosted down over the bard's pelvis before contacting public hair. "Fair, no?" Came a heavy breath in the other woman's ear as Aspel shifted, fingers beginning to slide lower at a torturously slow pace. “I told you,” she leaned in, her teeth closing around Aspel’s earlobe for a moment, her voice a low murmur, “I don’t play fair.” And nor would Aspel, it seemed; even with her rapid breathing and heartbeat, her hand moved slowly, and this was surely the most effective (and unfair) taunting she could possibly engage in now, when she was so close. “Tease,” she accused with a whimper, legs parting slightly in anticipation, a wordless invitation to be touched. But where Aspel seemed intent on enticing, she had no patience left for that any longer. And so one hand gripped Aspel’s hip while the other completed its upward journey along one of the other woman’s thighs, fingers finding wet heat, stroking ever so slightly at first, just coaxing out the first reaction. A sharp exhale was earned from the scrape of teeth, but was just as easily derailed by Ari's own claim. "Perhaps." The word was easily mouthed against the skin of the other woman's neck with a smirk. A kiss would follow it with ease. However, at the repositioning of the bard's legs, a low groan of desire couldn't be helped, eyes dipping down once again to rake over Ari's body. Which, of course, would be derailed at the sudden feeling of the other woman's hand between her legs. A moan would be cut in half as her jaw snapped shut, and hips rocked forward into the touch. Another hard swallow would be all that would allow a grounding once again while fingers continued to edge lower, and eyes fell shut. "Impatient, no?" If anything, Aspel remained a pro at teasing. The groan and the appreciative glance were both noted by Ari with a smirk of her own. It was always nice to feel appreciated, and the way Aspel looked at her brooked no confusion as to her thoughts on what she saw. The smirk widened before another whimper escaped -- so slow -- but at Aspel’s reaction at her touch, the moan, the tensing of her jaw, the forward jerk of her hips, the obvious pleasure on her face as her eyes fluttered shut, the smirk returned. Her touch was not quite so delicate, now, even as her own hips arched up off the counter, as if such movement would speed Aspel’s leisurely progress. “Terribly,” she admitted with a breathy laugh, her thumb seeking just the right spot to rub, just for a moment, just long enough to pull another reaction out of the other woman. “I’ve always told you.” 'Faram' was a easy response in her head as she earned a whimper from Ari, and her breathing was broken again for a moment with each new movement from the woman below her hands. With the feeling of hips arching up, fingers dipped down, dropping high up on the bard's thigh with a wicked smirk. The slight bit of fingernails she had would be used to trail up, barely touching at all if it could be helped. "Pity." Was all Aspel would get out before Ari managed to earn another abrupt whimper, and fingers which had easily rested at the bard's hip tightened into an iron grasp. The hand between the other woman's legs froze in place, seemingly derailed as the smith attempted to work through the quickly forming haze in her mind. "You have." The words were half choked out, another swallow accompanied the opening of eyes. "But you whimper so beautifully." Leaning in, a kiss would be tried for as fingers moved to carefully press up into the other woman. The slight verbal spar, difficult as it was to think coherent thoughts, should probably not have been surprising; had she ever expected anything else with this woman? Fortunately, she was more than willing to make her attempts to push Aspel into exactly the sort of action she would like. When the hand tightened suddenly on her hip, the sound she made was somewhere between a whimper and something almost like a breathy laugh; she did not intend to stop pushing here. She once again used her leg to pull Aspel closer in her moment of stillness, to grind against the hand still between her legs. “Do I?” she asked on an exhale, meeting Aspel’s haze, taking in her flushed cheeks and parted lips, such a beautiful sight in the moment. “I thought,” she said as Aspel leaned in for the kiss, “that you wanted to hear me scream.” The fingers pushed slowly into her as their lips met, and it would be her turn to close her eyes and let her head fall back as she moaned into the kiss, her back arching up. With Aspel's mind clearly becoming distracted "Mm." Was all the confirmation offered at the initial question presented to her. The feeling of warmth, and movement against her hand luring her deep into the appeal of mindless action, but two things slightly lingered across her mind as fingers curled into the bard, and the kiss broke. "But I do." Came a breathless response, and this time she leaned in again. Yet, instead of moving to meet the bard, lips moved to linger below the other woman's ear, as the smith’s free hand moved to stroke across Ari's lower back. "I believe," The words were no more than a husky whisper, strained around the edges with the attention they required. "I can have both." Teeth easily scraped over the other woman's earlobe, and nails raked across her back. With a low moan, fingers pressed in deeper once Aspel was certain they were welcome. Between the actions of Aspel’s hands, her words, and the way her body reacted at Ari’s touch, the bard’s mind was hazing over. Her blood was pounding in her ears, and another, louder moan was elicited at Aspel’s fingers pushing deeper, her hips rising up and forward to push against the other woman’s hand, a wordless encouragement for more. “Perhaps you can,” she managed, but if so, she would not be alone in her reacting; the angle was a bit more complicated for her, but with Aspel all but on top of her now, she could -- just -- turn her wrist and slip a finger inside Aspel’s body, withdraw it just as slowly, then repeat the motion with two fingers, slightly faster, again and again. Her thumb once more found the sensitive nub of the other woman’s clitoris, stroking back and forth as her hand moved. Her other hand rose finally from where it had been braced against Aspel’s hip to instead tangle in her hair so that she could pull their mouths together for another deep, passionate kiss. The response of Ari's body was delightful, yet it left Aspel wanting more - funny how that always seemed to happen with this bard. Giving way to her desires with each urge, and every action that provoked her was simple. However, when the bard finally progressed her own devilish plan a sharp gasp proceeded a brief slowing of action. The smith's breathing stopped for a moment, adjusting to the sensation as her back arched, and hips rocked - their own attempt at coaxing for more - before administering lingering strokes of her own to find just the right spot to encourage the best reaction from Ari. A deep moan was earned, and the kiss met eagerly with lips, tongue, and teeth searching for purchase. There would be no words, no need to speak, or attempts at provocation now. All that had come before was clearly enough with how the other woman's body moved, and how Aspel's own moved against her. And it seemed utterly unnecessary to say another word to Ari, as well; there was clearly no need to provide any direction, as Aspel seemed more than up to the task of experimenting until she found just the right angle and tempo to elicit another throaty moan and have Ari’s fingers tightening in her hair. She returned the kiss with equal fervor, her gasps and moans muffled by Aspel’s lips as her body hummed with sensation. She lifted her hips just slightly and the angle changed again, almost imperceptibly, but enough in her current state to send a shock of sensation through her and have her crying out with surprise and pleasure. The pressure inside her was building at a frantic pace, and with what little thought she could command she knew it would reach the breaking point in a matter of moments, between the rhythm set by Aspel’s hand and her hungry, insistent kisses. She gave herself over to it gladly, crying out as her climax came, her own motions slackening for a drawn-out moment as her back arched up off the counter and her head fell back. With the reaction elicited by simple exploration would be telling enough by the feeling of fingers pulling in her hair. Which, of course, simply meant that that would be the action that would need repeating, and how right she was by the movements, and sounds earned. It was hard to keep up initially with just how worked up the other woman was quickly becoming, but with the feeling of Ari writhing against her, and the bard's own fingers working within her, muscles thrummed with energy. The near frantic pace would be met eagerly, giving over to her own long standing desires, and those clearly presented by each sweet noise that came from the bard below her. As Ari cried out, a familiar tension and welling of heat seemed nearly unbearable, and again Aspel leaned in. Hands continued to move, working to maintain, and assure the bard's continued pleasure while her own hips had set to assist the other woman's hand in bringing about her own resolution. Shortly after Ari ventured over her own edge of pleasure, Aspel would find it impossible not to follow too. Her own cry would be muffled by the bard's skin, as lips fell to the other woman's neck. Taking a few seconds, deep breaths would be sucked in before a soft kiss would be placed against Ari's skin, another slight groan being earned at the shift of positioning needed with the other woman's fingers still inside of her. Perhaps, words in this instance would be best, but all Aspel could manage was simply basking in the glory of finally having what she'd wanted for oh so long. A three year itch had - finally - started to be scratched. A low, pleased sound hummed in Ari’s throat as she, too, shifted her position, and after a moment moved her hand. Her lips sought Aspel’s for another kiss, this one leisurely and drawn out. In these brief moments of satisfaction and afterglow -- she was not remotely finished now that they had finally managed to start -- she simply basked in her satisfaction. And the city, thankfully, remained quiet around them. (She had almost worried about it on her way here; those worries had, thankfully, remained unfounded.) “I think,” she said when their lips finally parted, “I have become inordinately fond of this counter.” While the attentive, and excited eagerness had seeped away, this kiss was still warm, and encouraging in its own right. It was easily met, and a low pleased noise, would assist with ensuring the understanding that it was more than welcome. Ari’s words earned a brief, and throaty ‘Heh’, before Aspel leaned in, pressing her body against the bard’s for a moment to obtain another lingering, and easy kiss. This one was slow, more for enjoyment of the kiss, than any actual other need before it broke, and the smith rested her forehead against the other woman’s with her eyes still closed. “I believe,” She began, voice low, and still a bit husky, “we have many more surfaces to make you fond of before the night is through.” That statement had Ari emitting a delighted, breathy giggle. “Well then,” she said, “I suspect we had better get started.” Even a winter night was only so long, after all. |