Gemma Stewart/Míriel/Zimraphel. (zimrahil) wrote in opus_two, @ 2011-02-14 21:13:00 |
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Current mood: | horny |
Entry tags: | &almarian&pharazon, &almarian&zimraphel, &palantir&zimraphel, &pharazon&zimraphel, @ossiriand:palantir's, @ossiriand:zimraphel's, almarian, palantir, pharazon, zimraphel |
[Andúnië, Númenor. The Second Age, circa 3137...]
"You need to stop this." She turns her back on him, knowing exactly how he'll react; hand on heart, eyes wide, all shocked innocence, the kind of expression only the truly guilty can can muster.
"I need to stop this?" She carries on untacking her horse as she hears him approach, his feet scuffing through straw on the stable floor. "Who was it suggested I stay an extra week?"
She takes a moment, both to unbuckle her mare's girth and consider her response. "Amandil enjoys your company," she replies curtly, standing on her toes to lift off the saddle, "Êru knows why." She turns towards the stall door to find him blocking her way, leaning on the wall.
"Oh, that was for Amandil's benefit. I see." He looks down at her, his smile just the right balance of affection and taunting. "You know, they have stable-hands and grooms to do this sort of thing."
"They're clumsy. They spook her. And so do you." She rounds off her retort by ducking easily under his arm. Her height (or lack of it) is a favourite subject for teasing so she'll use it to her advantage at every available opportunity. She lays her mare's saddle over the stall door and and with that, his hands are on her shoulders, pulling her back into the gloom of the stall.
"No I don't and I don't spook you either, so stop pretending." He turns her around, gently but insistently, while she reacts with eye-rolls, sighs and half-hearted pushing back. She knows she should counter with more than just this token resistance but his lips are already trailing up her neck towards her jaw. She shivers and tips her head back. He knows how much she loves this, so it's deeply unfair of him to make this his opening gambit. It's really not her fault.
"We shouldn't..." She tails off, the feel of his body pressed up against hers overpowering any lingering guilt.
"Oh, it's "we," all of a sudden, is it?" He's at her ear now, gently biting and nibbling in between whispers. "At least you're being honest now."
"This is the last time." She's said this before.
"Mm-hm." One hand is bunched in her skirts, gathering them higher and higher, while the other tugs at the buttons on her tunic. "How much time do we have?"
"Enough. They weren't expecting me back so soon."
He chuckles as he pushes her down towards the straw. "That's my girl."