Re: [Carnival - Adult]
The night was a sea of black, and he pitched blind from the helm of whatever semi-sane ship he'd taken to get to her. Away from her, he could think, he could reflect, and he could plan. Even from the back of her show tent, him watching the spectacle that was divinity under bright lights, he'd been enough of himself not to rush the stage and reclaim her as his and only his. If restraint was a spring in the mind, it was unhinged when he was close like this.
All he knew was the taste of her. It was all he wanted to know, and anything that tried to intrude upon him like sanity or stormclouds, he kept all of that at his back. Ignorant to all of the ways that this was wrong, he didn't want to acknowledge any of that. He couldn't, not when she was like this, pliant and willing under his unloveable hands. His fingers, gun carved and etched in violence, ghosted along the more intimate parts of her. Memorizing the feel of her, making a proper study of the way she grew breathlessly wet.
Sweet and unrushed, the kiss grew over the course of moments. He could barely hear her voice over the bell toll of his banging heart, but when she asked if he would follow to her bed, Rory nosed at the soft underside of her chin, kissing her throat with more gentleness than the moon demanded of him. "I would." He'd have her on a bed of nails if she asked him, all the better to crucify.
He was too close, too consumed by her to sense anything off about her little trailer in the distance. He'd forgotten there was anything to fear, it'd been too long.