The chatbox has been hidden for this page. It will reopen upon refresh. To hide the CBox permanently, select "Permanently Toggle Cbox" in your profile User Settings.
This chatbox is hidden. To reopen, edit your User Settings.
If they had done nothing more than share kisses like this for the rest of time, he might have been content. With his skin now exposed to the air there was a shiver that the brush of her touch sent through him, rising the hairs along his skin as if cold. She charged feelings he hadn't thought he could ever feel, and with a hum as she nipped at his lip in return, he lifted his hands to her hair. Pinned as it was in the crowned braids was practical, but there was something about the way she looked with her hair down, flowing around her in silken waves catching the light in a way such darkness should never be able to do. Ignoring any pricks he might have received, he tried to withdraw as many of the pins as he could find without pulling his mouth from hers.
Their lips parted naturally after a moment and he couldn't help the slight grin at her comment to his hair. "Like my beard, when it is allowed to grow further." The innocence of such talk compared to the actions of their bodies showed their inexperience, and he wished not for the first time the knowledge and experience to guide them through this. The efforts he'd made had loosened the braids at last and he left them to fall as he scattered the pins on the nearest flat surface. They could be found later when there was need for them once more. If he had his way though it would not be for a while.
Allowing her free reign to touch as she liked, Iason watched her expression and finally settled his hands on her hips, toying with the nearest weft of fabric on her dress. He made no move to undress her as yet, giving her the opportunity to see him as bare as he'd seen her in the past. In all the time they'd spent, the many varieties of undress, he had never been fully unclothed and exposed before her, and though his heart raced with an urgent need, it was combined with a sort of anxiety as well as if she might find him lacking still in some way.
Iason kept his gaze locked on hers as the ties to his trousers fell away, using his hold on her hips to back her toward the bed as he stepped out of them. With nothing else barring her vision, he felt a heat flare in his cheeks and spread down his chest, desire no longer hidden within the constraints of clothing. Though he'd little evidence, he had always considered himself fairly well proportioned, and only hoped she might agree.
"How do you find your husband, my lady?"
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
If they had done nothing more than share kisses like this for the rest of time, he might have been content. With his skin now exposed to the air there was a shiver that the brush of her touch sent through him, rising the hairs along his skin as if cold. She charged feelings he hadn't thought he could ever feel, and with a hum as she nipped at his lip in return, he lifted his hands to her hair. Pinned as it was in the crowned braids was practical, but there was something about the way she looked with her hair down, flowing around her in silken waves catching the light in a way such darkness should never be able to do. Ignoring any pricks he might have received, he tried to withdraw as many of the pins as he could find without pulling his mouth from hers.
Their lips parted naturally after a moment and he couldn't help the slight grin at her comment to his hair. "Like my beard, when it is allowed to grow further." The innocence of such talk compared to the actions of their bodies showed their inexperience, and he wished not for the first time the knowledge and experience to guide them through this. The efforts he'd made had loosened the braids at last and he left them to fall as he scattered the pins on the nearest flat surface. They could be found later when there was need for them once more. If he had his way though it would not be for a while.
Allowing her free reign to touch as she liked, Iason watched her expression and finally settled his hands on her hips, toying with the nearest weft of fabric on her dress. He made no move to undress her as yet, giving her the opportunity to see him as bare as he'd seen her in the past. In all the time they'd spent, the many varieties of undress, he had never been fully unclothed and exposed before her, and though his heart raced with an urgent need, it was combined with a sort of anxiety as well as if she might find him lacking still in some way.
Iason kept his gaze locked on hers as the ties to his trousers fell away, using his hold on her hips to back her toward the bed as he stepped out of them. With nothing else barring her vision, he felt a heat flare in his cheeks and spread down his chest, desire no longer hidden within the constraints of clothing. Though he'd little evidence, he had always considered himself fairly well proportioned, and only hoped she might agree.
"How do you find your husband, my lady?"
If they had done nothing more than share kisses like this for the rest of time, he might have been content. With his skin now exposed to the air there was a shiver that the brush of her touch sent through him, rising the hairs along his skin as if cold. She charged feelings he hadn't thought he could ever feel, and with a hum as she nipped at his lip in return, he lifted his hands to her hair. Pinned as it was in the crowned braids was practical, but there was something about the way she looked with her hair down, flowing around her in silken waves catching the light in a way such darkness should never be able to do. Ignoring any pricks he might have received, he tried to withdraw as many of the pins as he could find without pulling his mouth from hers.
Their lips parted naturally after a moment and he couldn't help the slight grin at her comment to his hair. "Like my beard, when it is allowed to grow further." The innocence of such talk compared to the actions of their bodies showed their inexperience, and he wished not for the first time the knowledge and experience to guide them through this. The efforts he'd made had loosened the braids at last and he left them to fall as he scattered the pins on the nearest flat surface. They could be found later when there was need for them once more. If he had his way though it would not be for a while.
Allowing her free reign to touch as she liked, Iason watched her expression and finally settled his hands on her hips, toying with the nearest weft of fabric on her dress. He made no move to undress her as yet, giving her the opportunity to see him as bare as he'd seen her in the past. In all the time they'd spent, the many varieties of undress, he had never been fully unclothed and exposed before her, and though his heart raced with an urgent need, it was combined with a sort of anxiety as well as if she might find him lacking still in some way.
Iason kept his gaze locked on hers as the ties to his trousers fell away, using his hold on her hips to back her toward the bed as he stepped out of them. With nothing else barring her vision, he felt a heat flare in his cheeks and spread down his chest, desire no longer hidden within the constraints of clothing. Though he'd little evidence, he had always considered himself fairly well proportioned, and only hoped she might agree.
"How do you find your husband, my lady?"
It was almost as if their actions played music. There was a gentle breeze from outside that shifted the coverings of the furniture, set her skirts brushing across the floor in a soft rippling hum. She could hear birdsong outside and the gentle rustle of the trees and the plants that grew up the stony walls of the manor.
With quiet otherwise reigning inside, the touch of her fingers to skin, the gently shifting noise of cloth, the jingle of the metal buckle as it released its ties and then clunked to the floor... All of it rang loud in Perse's ears. Their breathing... The touch of their lips... The damp sounds of their kisses... It was like a soft and delicate song of intimacy; erratic and sweet.
When he walked her back a few steps, closer to the end of the bed, Persephone took his guidance, only then realising that Iason had removed her pins. Braids fell around her neck and temples, the silkiness of her hair setting the braids to slowly uncoiling; the twisting pattern loosening and growing long the further it fell. Soon, and with the application of fingers, they would fall away completely, the tresses amalgamating once more into a midnight curtain of sheen.
It was then that her attentions were entirely caught, as Iason fully disrobed, shucking his boots and pants so that he stood before her in only his skin.
The torso that she had traced offered two new lines angling from his hips down towards his pelvis, whilst his thighs spread in sturdy muscle. His legs were as well worked, if less tan, as the rest of him. And Persephone had no doubt then that Iason worked alongside his men, as hard as they. Even his feet, corded and defined looked strong, a powerful base for his frame.
Blushing to the roots of her hair and thankful that her olive skin hid some of the pink hue, Persephone could not help the look towards the part of his anatomy that she had never seen before.
Iason's words, checking for approval, fell on slightly deaf ears, as Persephone's eyes flew wide.
Whilst she might not have witnessed a man in only what he was born before, Persephone was no stranger to the fine figures and statues popular in the decor of stately buildings. Figures that held all the muscle and shape of Iason, yet were of entirely different proportions where their masculinity was concerned.
What was a further shock to her ignorance was its direction. Whilst all statues she had ever witnessed had a short length hanging down between the legs and often hidden by some sort of foliage, Iason's stood proud and tall, at least three times the size of the marble impressions artists created and would never have been hidden by a simple leaf, no matter how innovative the sculptor.
Persephone had always assumed that art mimicked life but this was an entirely different view. Her gaze flew to his, an expression of heated shock on her features. Even as inexperienced as she was, Persephone knew where such a piece of Iason's anatomy was to go in the act of husband and wife. And a fearful concern crept in at the corners of her mind, now that she was presented with the reality of that fact. For, surely, he would not fit?
Whether this was normal for males or Iason was misformed in some large way, Persephone had no course for comparison. Instead, she offered him a shy smile that belied some of her nerves. She attempted to respond with the teasing lightness he had questioned her with.
"My husband is... Unexpected." She offered, her tongue darting out to lick nervously at her lips, her fingers twisting together in front of her. She swallowed. "You are not like the statues I have seen." She explained, hoping that Iason would understand her surprise and knew enough of his own sex from communal bathing at least to be able to set her mind at rest.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
It was almost as if their actions played music. There was a gentle breeze from outside that shifted the coverings of the furniture, set her skirts brushing across the floor in a soft rippling hum. She could hear birdsong outside and the gentle rustle of the trees and the plants that grew up the stony walls of the manor.
With quiet otherwise reigning inside, the touch of her fingers to skin, the gently shifting noise of cloth, the jingle of the metal buckle as it released its ties and then clunked to the floor... All of it rang loud in Perse's ears. Their breathing... The touch of their lips... The damp sounds of their kisses... It was like a soft and delicate song of intimacy; erratic and sweet.
When he walked her back a few steps, closer to the end of the bed, Persephone took his guidance, only then realising that Iason had removed her pins. Braids fell around her neck and temples, the silkiness of her hair setting the braids to slowly uncoiling; the twisting pattern loosening and growing long the further it fell. Soon, and with the application of fingers, they would fall away completely, the tresses amalgamating once more into a midnight curtain of sheen.
It was then that her attentions were entirely caught, as Iason fully disrobed, shucking his boots and pants so that he stood before her in only his skin.
The torso that she had traced offered two new lines angling from his hips down towards his pelvis, whilst his thighs spread in sturdy muscle. His legs were as well worked, if less tan, as the rest of him. And Persephone had no doubt then that Iason worked alongside his men, as hard as they. Even his feet, corded and defined looked strong, a powerful base for his frame.
Blushing to the roots of her hair and thankful that her olive skin hid some of the pink hue, Persephone could not help the look towards the part of his anatomy that she had never seen before.
Iason's words, checking for approval, fell on slightly deaf ears, as Persephone's eyes flew wide.
Whilst she might not have witnessed a man in only what he was born before, Persephone was no stranger to the fine figures and statues popular in the decor of stately buildings. Figures that held all the muscle and shape of Iason, yet were of entirely different proportions where their masculinity was concerned.
What was a further shock to her ignorance was its direction. Whilst all statues she had ever witnessed had a short length hanging down between the legs and often hidden by some sort of foliage, Iason's stood proud and tall, at least three times the size of the marble impressions artists created and would never have been hidden by a simple leaf, no matter how innovative the sculptor.
Persephone had always assumed that art mimicked life but this was an entirely different view. Her gaze flew to his, an expression of heated shock on her features. Even as inexperienced as she was, Persephone knew where such a piece of Iason's anatomy was to go in the act of husband and wife. And a fearful concern crept in at the corners of her mind, now that she was presented with the reality of that fact. For, surely, he would not fit?
Whether this was normal for males or Iason was misformed in some large way, Persephone had no course for comparison. Instead, she offered him a shy smile that belied some of her nerves. She attempted to respond with the teasing lightness he had questioned her with.
"My husband is... Unexpected." She offered, her tongue darting out to lick nervously at her lips, her fingers twisting together in front of her. She swallowed. "You are not like the statues I have seen." She explained, hoping that Iason would understand her surprise and knew enough of his own sex from communal bathing at least to be able to set her mind at rest.
It was almost as if their actions played music. There was a gentle breeze from outside that shifted the coverings of the furniture, set her skirts brushing across the floor in a soft rippling hum. She could hear birdsong outside and the gentle rustle of the trees and the plants that grew up the stony walls of the manor.
With quiet otherwise reigning inside, the touch of her fingers to skin, the gently shifting noise of cloth, the jingle of the metal buckle as it released its ties and then clunked to the floor... All of it rang loud in Perse's ears. Their breathing... The touch of their lips... The damp sounds of their kisses... It was like a soft and delicate song of intimacy; erratic and sweet.
When he walked her back a few steps, closer to the end of the bed, Persephone took his guidance, only then realising that Iason had removed her pins. Braids fell around her neck and temples, the silkiness of her hair setting the braids to slowly uncoiling; the twisting pattern loosening and growing long the further it fell. Soon, and with the application of fingers, they would fall away completely, the tresses amalgamating once more into a midnight curtain of sheen.
It was then that her attentions were entirely caught, as Iason fully disrobed, shucking his boots and pants so that he stood before her in only his skin.
The torso that she had traced offered two new lines angling from his hips down towards his pelvis, whilst his thighs spread in sturdy muscle. His legs were as well worked, if less tan, as the rest of him. And Persephone had no doubt then that Iason worked alongside his men, as hard as they. Even his feet, corded and defined looked strong, a powerful base for his frame.
Blushing to the roots of her hair and thankful that her olive skin hid some of the pink hue, Persephone could not help the look towards the part of his anatomy that she had never seen before.
Iason's words, checking for approval, fell on slightly deaf ears, as Persephone's eyes flew wide.
Whilst she might not have witnessed a man in only what he was born before, Persephone was no stranger to the fine figures and statues popular in the decor of stately buildings. Figures that held all the muscle and shape of Iason, yet were of entirely different proportions where their masculinity was concerned.
What was a further shock to her ignorance was its direction. Whilst all statues she had ever witnessed had a short length hanging down between the legs and often hidden by some sort of foliage, Iason's stood proud and tall, at least three times the size of the marble impressions artists created and would never have been hidden by a simple leaf, no matter how innovative the sculptor.
Persephone had always assumed that art mimicked life but this was an entirely different view. Her gaze flew to his, an expression of heated shock on her features. Even as inexperienced as she was, Persephone knew where such a piece of Iason's anatomy was to go in the act of husband and wife. And a fearful concern crept in at the corners of her mind, now that she was presented with the reality of that fact. For, surely, he would not fit?
Whether this was normal for males or Iason was misformed in some large way, Persephone had no course for comparison. Instead, she offered him a shy smile that belied some of her nerves. She attempted to respond with the teasing lightness he had questioned her with.
"My husband is... Unexpected." She offered, her tongue darting out to lick nervously at her lips, her fingers twisting together in front of her. She swallowed. "You are not like the statues I have seen." She explained, hoping that Iason would understand her surprise and knew enough of his own sex from communal bathing at least to be able to set her mind at rest.
It took him a moment to read her expression, her smile giving him no reason to fear her reaction. His brow raised in confusion as she called him unexpected, tilting his head to the side slightly. His confidence in being average in appearance was shaken somewhat, but as she followed her confusion with explanation that he was not like the statues that she had seen, he felt another wash of relief.
"No..most men are not like the statues."
For whatever reason, he had rarely paid much attention to the difference, assuming that the statues were not drawn in an aroused state as it was. In another moment he might have been far more willing to discuss the difference and laugh over the choices of artists, but as she stood before him with her hair finally free, it was impossible for him to focus on the amusing anecdotes. Reaching out with both hands, he drew his fingers through the braids that hung around her to pull them apart, tracing the tips along her back.
Now that he was bare, there was too much fabric on her person and this time he searched for the closure to her chiton, leaning in to press a kiss to the curve of her neck as he did. She'd seemed to enjoy it in the meadow, and he wished to bring them both ease instead of the tension he noted in the way her hands twisted before her. Freeing her belt at last, Iason pulled back enough to allow the silken material to slip away before tracing his kisses further down her neck to her shoulder.
The heat of her skin beneath his touch and the curve of her body against his was intoxicating, and for all his inexperience he knew he wanted her more than anything. Exhaling against her shoulder, he pulled back and took her hands, drawing her toward the bed and shoving aside the covering before lifting and settling her onto the mattress. With a reverent hands, he gently removed the final layers between them until she was as bare as him, gaze taking in every curve and hollow of her, blue eyes darkening with desire.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
It took him a moment to read her expression, her smile giving him no reason to fear her reaction. His brow raised in confusion as she called him unexpected, tilting his head to the side slightly. His confidence in being average in appearance was shaken somewhat, but as she followed her confusion with explanation that he was not like the statues that she had seen, he felt another wash of relief.
"No..most men are not like the statues."
For whatever reason, he had rarely paid much attention to the difference, assuming that the statues were not drawn in an aroused state as it was. In another moment he might have been far more willing to discuss the difference and laugh over the choices of artists, but as she stood before him with her hair finally free, it was impossible for him to focus on the amusing anecdotes. Reaching out with both hands, he drew his fingers through the braids that hung around her to pull them apart, tracing the tips along her back.
Now that he was bare, there was too much fabric on her person and this time he searched for the closure to her chiton, leaning in to press a kiss to the curve of her neck as he did. She'd seemed to enjoy it in the meadow, and he wished to bring them both ease instead of the tension he noted in the way her hands twisted before her. Freeing her belt at last, Iason pulled back enough to allow the silken material to slip away before tracing his kisses further down her neck to her shoulder.
The heat of her skin beneath his touch and the curve of her body against his was intoxicating, and for all his inexperience he knew he wanted her more than anything. Exhaling against her shoulder, he pulled back and took her hands, drawing her toward the bed and shoving aside the covering before lifting and settling her onto the mattress. With a reverent hands, he gently removed the final layers between them until she was as bare as him, gaze taking in every curve and hollow of her, blue eyes darkening with desire.
It took him a moment to read her expression, her smile giving him no reason to fear her reaction. His brow raised in confusion as she called him unexpected, tilting his head to the side slightly. His confidence in being average in appearance was shaken somewhat, but as she followed her confusion with explanation that he was not like the statues that she had seen, he felt another wash of relief.
"No..most men are not like the statues."
For whatever reason, he had rarely paid much attention to the difference, assuming that the statues were not drawn in an aroused state as it was. In another moment he might have been far more willing to discuss the difference and laugh over the choices of artists, but as she stood before him with her hair finally free, it was impossible for him to focus on the amusing anecdotes. Reaching out with both hands, he drew his fingers through the braids that hung around her to pull them apart, tracing the tips along her back.
Now that he was bare, there was too much fabric on her person and this time he searched for the closure to her chiton, leaning in to press a kiss to the curve of her neck as he did. She'd seemed to enjoy it in the meadow, and he wished to bring them both ease instead of the tension he noted in the way her hands twisted before her. Freeing her belt at last, Iason pulled back enough to allow the silken material to slip away before tracing his kisses further down her neck to her shoulder.
The heat of her skin beneath his touch and the curve of her body against his was intoxicating, and for all his inexperience he knew he wanted her more than anything. Exhaling against her shoulder, he pulled back and took her hands, drawing her toward the bed and shoving aside the covering before lifting and settling her onto the mattress. With a reverent hands, he gently removed the final layers between them until she was as bare as him, gaze taking in every curve and hollow of her, blue eyes darkening with desire.
Persephone's shy smile broadened at his assurance that art did not mimic life, the implication that Iason's shape was within the range of normal. If so, there should be no issue in their coupling, as she had feared, should there not?
Her fingers falling loose, her concerns alleviated, Persephone stood still as Iason approached her, his hands seeking her hair and shaking out the lose braids and twists of her locks. Pieces fell in soft waves while the larger sections fell straight. Through both, Persephone felt Iason's fingertips drift and seek skin.
Turning her head, as if she were a cat leaning into her master's touch, Persephone's eyes drifted shut and her lips parted on a sigh of contentment. She felt the sway of her hair flutter against her arms and back, sparking her nerves and setting her muscles tightening with sensitivity. As if Iason had turned her own hair against her; a tool for his seduction of her.
When his lips moved to the column of her neck and his hands to the clasps of her gown, she did nothing to stop him. She had been naked before him before and with his own frame clad only in skin fair was fair...
Thinking nothing for the open archways that let in light but were too high for any unlikely trespasser to see inside, Persephone's smile drifted away but only because her breathing had become erratic. And her gaze fixed on Iason's as he lifted his mouth from her throat where it had played torment against her pulse.
It was only when Iason pulled aside the gossamer coating over the bed, the air suddenly sparkling with little pieces of dust before they were shut out once more, that Persephone's raiment hit the floor.
She had worn little but the gown that morning, her wrist sporting only a thin cuff of silver and her right ring finger the wedding band of her mother. She had been given a silver chain to wear around her ankle and she still wore simple leather sandals stripped white.
Encouraged to retreat over the soft linens of the bed, Persephone moved back, her hands and firearms bracing her torso whilst her long legs curled up to one side, to allow Iason space to join her.
With a boldness that she had not given to such pleasurable pursuits before, Persephone smiled and raised a hand towards her future husband, every inch of her a beckoning siren, innocent but lush...
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Persephone's shy smile broadened at his assurance that art did not mimic life, the implication that Iason's shape was within the range of normal. If so, there should be no issue in their coupling, as she had feared, should there not?
Her fingers falling loose, her concerns alleviated, Persephone stood still as Iason approached her, his hands seeking her hair and shaking out the lose braids and twists of her locks. Pieces fell in soft waves while the larger sections fell straight. Through both, Persephone felt Iason's fingertips drift and seek skin.
Turning her head, as if she were a cat leaning into her master's touch, Persephone's eyes drifted shut and her lips parted on a sigh of contentment. She felt the sway of her hair flutter against her arms and back, sparking her nerves and setting her muscles tightening with sensitivity. As if Iason had turned her own hair against her; a tool for his seduction of her.
When his lips moved to the column of her neck and his hands to the clasps of her gown, she did nothing to stop him. She had been naked before him before and with his own frame clad only in skin fair was fair...
Thinking nothing for the open archways that let in light but were too high for any unlikely trespasser to see inside, Persephone's smile drifted away but only because her breathing had become erratic. And her gaze fixed on Iason's as he lifted his mouth from her throat where it had played torment against her pulse.
It was only when Iason pulled aside the gossamer coating over the bed, the air suddenly sparkling with little pieces of dust before they were shut out once more, that Persephone's raiment hit the floor.
She had worn little but the gown that morning, her wrist sporting only a thin cuff of silver and her right ring finger the wedding band of her mother. She had been given a silver chain to wear around her ankle and she still wore simple leather sandals stripped white.
Encouraged to retreat over the soft linens of the bed, Persephone moved back, her hands and firearms bracing her torso whilst her long legs curled up to one side, to allow Iason space to join her.
With a boldness that she had not given to such pleasurable pursuits before, Persephone smiled and raised a hand towards her future husband, every inch of her a beckoning siren, innocent but lush...
Persephone's shy smile broadened at his assurance that art did not mimic life, the implication that Iason's shape was within the range of normal. If so, there should be no issue in their coupling, as she had feared, should there not?
Her fingers falling loose, her concerns alleviated, Persephone stood still as Iason approached her, his hands seeking her hair and shaking out the lose braids and twists of her locks. Pieces fell in soft waves while the larger sections fell straight. Through both, Persephone felt Iason's fingertips drift and seek skin.
Turning her head, as if she were a cat leaning into her master's touch, Persephone's eyes drifted shut and her lips parted on a sigh of contentment. She felt the sway of her hair flutter against her arms and back, sparking her nerves and setting her muscles tightening with sensitivity. As if Iason had turned her own hair against her; a tool for his seduction of her.
When his lips moved to the column of her neck and his hands to the clasps of her gown, she did nothing to stop him. She had been naked before him before and with his own frame clad only in skin fair was fair...
Thinking nothing for the open archways that let in light but were too high for any unlikely trespasser to see inside, Persephone's smile drifted away but only because her breathing had become erratic. And her gaze fixed on Iason's as he lifted his mouth from her throat where it had played torment against her pulse.
It was only when Iason pulled aside the gossamer coating over the bed, the air suddenly sparkling with little pieces of dust before they were shut out once more, that Persephone's raiment hit the floor.
She had worn little but the gown that morning, her wrist sporting only a thin cuff of silver and her right ring finger the wedding band of her mother. She had been given a silver chain to wear around her ankle and she still wore simple leather sandals stripped white.
Encouraged to retreat over the soft linens of the bed, Persephone moved back, her hands and firearms bracing her torso whilst her long legs curled up to one side, to allow Iason space to join her.
With a boldness that she had not given to such pleasurable pursuits before, Persephone smiled and raised a hand towards her future husband, every inch of her a beckoning siren, innocent but lush...
He could look at her a lifetime and never grow tired of it. The glow of her skin in the light of the sun streaming through the arch and glancing off the floor, healthier now than it had been when they had first arrived in Taengea, her dark eyes sparking now with something he barely recognized and yet was intimately familiar. With the curtain of raven hair loose now and trailing over her shoulders and the curve of her lips turned up in a smile she was breathtaking and for a moment he was stilled by his awe, until she beckoned him toward her.
Slipping onto the bed beside her, Iason held himself upright with one arm braced while the other reached for her eagerly, twining through her hair and drawing her close against him as he caught her mouth once again. Now they were here, his restraint was struggling against instinct and he wanted nothing between them, just skin and the sounds of their breath. They had lain like this before, when he had carried her in from the storm there had been just as little between them but darkness had covered them and they had not been where they were now. The emotions had changed between them without a doubt, now there was a trust, a knowledge that they were on equal footing here and learning together. In all the times he had wished for more experience, this was a moment where he was torn.
The hand in her hair slid slowly down the curve of her neck as he kissed her, finding the curve of her breast boldly before landing on her hip. Their time in the meadow was burned into his memory, and he very slowly trailed his hand further down though it gave her time to stop if she did not with him to touch her just yet. Or perhaps she would not prefer that at all, wanting something else from him that he knew he would do without hesitation the moment she asked.
"Persephone.."
Exhaling her name seemed the most cognisance he was capable of, laying her beneath him while still braced on his forearm, their chests pressed together as if their heartbeats were one and the same. Each breath he took seemed impossible, forcing him to focus on something that wasn't her.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
He could look at her a lifetime and never grow tired of it. The glow of her skin in the light of the sun streaming through the arch and glancing off the floor, healthier now than it had been when they had first arrived in Taengea, her dark eyes sparking now with something he barely recognized and yet was intimately familiar. With the curtain of raven hair loose now and trailing over her shoulders and the curve of her lips turned up in a smile she was breathtaking and for a moment he was stilled by his awe, until she beckoned him toward her.
Slipping onto the bed beside her, Iason held himself upright with one arm braced while the other reached for her eagerly, twining through her hair and drawing her close against him as he caught her mouth once again. Now they were here, his restraint was struggling against instinct and he wanted nothing between them, just skin and the sounds of their breath. They had lain like this before, when he had carried her in from the storm there had been just as little between them but darkness had covered them and they had not been where they were now. The emotions had changed between them without a doubt, now there was a trust, a knowledge that they were on equal footing here and learning together. In all the times he had wished for more experience, this was a moment where he was torn.
The hand in her hair slid slowly down the curve of her neck as he kissed her, finding the curve of her breast boldly before landing on her hip. Their time in the meadow was burned into his memory, and he very slowly trailed his hand further down though it gave her time to stop if she did not with him to touch her just yet. Or perhaps she would not prefer that at all, wanting something else from him that he knew he would do without hesitation the moment she asked.
"Persephone.."
Exhaling her name seemed the most cognisance he was capable of, laying her beneath him while still braced on his forearm, their chests pressed together as if their heartbeats were one and the same. Each breath he took seemed impossible, forcing him to focus on something that wasn't her.
He could look at her a lifetime and never grow tired of it. The glow of her skin in the light of the sun streaming through the arch and glancing off the floor, healthier now than it had been when they had first arrived in Taengea, her dark eyes sparking now with something he barely recognized and yet was intimately familiar. With the curtain of raven hair loose now and trailing over her shoulders and the curve of her lips turned up in a smile she was breathtaking and for a moment he was stilled by his awe, until she beckoned him toward her.
Slipping onto the bed beside her, Iason held himself upright with one arm braced while the other reached for her eagerly, twining through her hair and drawing her close against him as he caught her mouth once again. Now they were here, his restraint was struggling against instinct and he wanted nothing between them, just skin and the sounds of their breath. They had lain like this before, when he had carried her in from the storm there had been just as little between them but darkness had covered them and they had not been where they were now. The emotions had changed between them without a doubt, now there was a trust, a knowledge that they were on equal footing here and learning together. In all the times he had wished for more experience, this was a moment where he was torn.
The hand in her hair slid slowly down the curve of her neck as he kissed her, finding the curve of her breast boldly before landing on her hip. Their time in the meadow was burned into his memory, and he very slowly trailed his hand further down though it gave her time to stop if she did not with him to touch her just yet. Or perhaps she would not prefer that at all, wanting something else from him that he knew he would do without hesitation the moment she asked.
"Persephone.."
Exhaling her name seemed the most cognisance he was capable of, laying her beneath him while still braced on his forearm, their chests pressed together as if their heartbeats were one and the same. Each breath he took seemed impossible, forcing him to focus on something that wasn't her.
As Iason ducked and lowered himself to the bed, drawing himself down to her and supporting himself above her soft frame, Persephone felt a frisson of soft fear. The good kind. The kind that told her she was about to do something new and exciting. Something that would be exhilarating and strange but worth the adventure.
Iason was so much larger than she - his shoulders broadening and blocking of her view of the gossamer canopy, his spine and legs longer than hers so that he dwarfed her in the cage he formed around her body. But such a dominance was not to be feared. She knew Iason. She knew his heart, his intent. She knew that he loved her beyond what she deserved.
Whilst her innocence sparked a certain nervousness at each new step, she knew she had nothing to fear from this man.
Giving herself to him as he drew near, Persephone's shoulders found the blankets as she leaned back, his kiss sending her back arching and her lips smiling around his.
How nervous she had once been of these touches. How anxious she had been to get a kiss right and be seen as an adequate lover. Now, with the eagerness blooming in her muscles and the desire she saw in Iason's slumberous eyes, Persephone could allow such worries to melt away and react purely on instinct.
She kissed Iason with zero tutelage and only their previous experience for guidance. Her hands drew up to drive into his hair before one curved back around to find his shoulder and then chest, her palm over his nipple her fingertips over his heartbeat.
She sighed softly into his kiss as his hands traced the contours of her side, her breast and then the curve of her hip. She felt the back of his knuckles brush the line that drew from hip to mound and his touch flicker across the hair that hid her most sensitive flesh.
Remembering how they had come together in their own way in the meadow the previous day, Persephone felt a mewing noise of desire rise up her throat and be muffled by their fused mouths as she parted her lips to Iason's invading tongue.
The sound of her name on his lips, had her tongue joining his in a dance seeking pleasure, a moan drawing up from her chest and mingling in the air between them. She felt no dampness between her legs this time but wondered if that was only a matter of time as she shifted her hips towards Iason's hand, her body naturally eager to seek what it had been given before...
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
As Iason ducked and lowered himself to the bed, drawing himself down to her and supporting himself above her soft frame, Persephone felt a frisson of soft fear. The good kind. The kind that told her she was about to do something new and exciting. Something that would be exhilarating and strange but worth the adventure.
Iason was so much larger than she - his shoulders broadening and blocking of her view of the gossamer canopy, his spine and legs longer than hers so that he dwarfed her in the cage he formed around her body. But such a dominance was not to be feared. She knew Iason. She knew his heart, his intent. She knew that he loved her beyond what she deserved.
Whilst her innocence sparked a certain nervousness at each new step, she knew she had nothing to fear from this man.
Giving herself to him as he drew near, Persephone's shoulders found the blankets as she leaned back, his kiss sending her back arching and her lips smiling around his.
How nervous she had once been of these touches. How anxious she had been to get a kiss right and be seen as an adequate lover. Now, with the eagerness blooming in her muscles and the desire she saw in Iason's slumberous eyes, Persephone could allow such worries to melt away and react purely on instinct.
She kissed Iason with zero tutelage and only their previous experience for guidance. Her hands drew up to drive into his hair before one curved back around to find his shoulder and then chest, her palm over his nipple her fingertips over his heartbeat.
She sighed softly into his kiss as his hands traced the contours of her side, her breast and then the curve of her hip. She felt the back of his knuckles brush the line that drew from hip to mound and his touch flicker across the hair that hid her most sensitive flesh.
Remembering how they had come together in their own way in the meadow the previous day, Persephone felt a mewing noise of desire rise up her throat and be muffled by their fused mouths as she parted her lips to Iason's invading tongue.
The sound of her name on his lips, had her tongue joining his in a dance seeking pleasure, a moan drawing up from her chest and mingling in the air between them. She felt no dampness between her legs this time but wondered if that was only a matter of time as she shifted her hips towards Iason's hand, her body naturally eager to seek what it had been given before...
As Iason ducked and lowered himself to the bed, drawing himself down to her and supporting himself above her soft frame, Persephone felt a frisson of soft fear. The good kind. The kind that told her she was about to do something new and exciting. Something that would be exhilarating and strange but worth the adventure.
Iason was so much larger than she - his shoulders broadening and blocking of her view of the gossamer canopy, his spine and legs longer than hers so that he dwarfed her in the cage he formed around her body. But such a dominance was not to be feared. She knew Iason. She knew his heart, his intent. She knew that he loved her beyond what she deserved.
Whilst her innocence sparked a certain nervousness at each new step, she knew she had nothing to fear from this man.
Giving herself to him as he drew near, Persephone's shoulders found the blankets as she leaned back, his kiss sending her back arching and her lips smiling around his.
How nervous she had once been of these touches. How anxious she had been to get a kiss right and be seen as an adequate lover. Now, with the eagerness blooming in her muscles and the desire she saw in Iason's slumberous eyes, Persephone could allow such worries to melt away and react purely on instinct.
She kissed Iason with zero tutelage and only their previous experience for guidance. Her hands drew up to drive into his hair before one curved back around to find his shoulder and then chest, her palm over his nipple her fingertips over his heartbeat.
She sighed softly into his kiss as his hands traced the contours of her side, her breast and then the curve of her hip. She felt the back of his knuckles brush the line that drew from hip to mound and his touch flicker across the hair that hid her most sensitive flesh.
Remembering how they had come together in their own way in the meadow the previous day, Persephone felt a mewing noise of desire rise up her throat and be muffled by their fused mouths as she parted her lips to Iason's invading tongue.
The sound of her name on his lips, had her tongue joining his in a dance seeking pleasure, a moan drawing up from her chest and mingling in the air between them. She felt no dampness between her legs this time but wondered if that was only a matter of time as she shifted her hips towards Iason's hand, her body naturally eager to seek what it had been given before...
It was different this time. This time they both knew what they wanted and more of what they were doing, they'd had time to learn one another and what they liked, what drove their passions and what dampened them, and though Iason was still uncertain of plenty, in this he was as confident as he could be. With her beneath him, cradled in the embrace of his body as if he could shelter her from any ill in the world, he felt whole. Her eager response to his kisses and caresses urged him on, and with her vocal encouragement his fingers once again found the most sensitive part of her.
Iason recalled their time in the meadow, this new position made it far easier to maneuver than it had been with her on his lap, following the memory and her sounds that coupled with the tightness of her hand in his hair. As he stroked gently at her soft skin he found himself distracted by the passion of their kisses, pausing unintentionally until he finally broke away, focusing his attentions on the work of his hand as he sought those moans she had breathed in his ear before. His lips found her chest instead, sinking slightly down the bed to focus on tasting every inch of her skin that had not been available to him before.
Breathing a moan hotly against her stomach, he felt the slickness return that had aided his motions in the meadow, and as his lips pressed kisses and a love bite to the slight softness of her belly a fleeting thought surprised him and yet seemed entirely possible. His chin brushed against the hair on her mound in his quest to taste every part of her, and a tug in his own locks brought him surging back up to catch hold of her lips once more, unable to decide how best to drive her as mad as he felt himself.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
It was different this time. This time they both knew what they wanted and more of what they were doing, they'd had time to learn one another and what they liked, what drove their passions and what dampened them, and though Iason was still uncertain of plenty, in this he was as confident as he could be. With her beneath him, cradled in the embrace of his body as if he could shelter her from any ill in the world, he felt whole. Her eager response to his kisses and caresses urged him on, and with her vocal encouragement his fingers once again found the most sensitive part of her.
Iason recalled their time in the meadow, this new position made it far easier to maneuver than it had been with her on his lap, following the memory and her sounds that coupled with the tightness of her hand in his hair. As he stroked gently at her soft skin he found himself distracted by the passion of their kisses, pausing unintentionally until he finally broke away, focusing his attentions on the work of his hand as he sought those moans she had breathed in his ear before. His lips found her chest instead, sinking slightly down the bed to focus on tasting every inch of her skin that had not been available to him before.
Breathing a moan hotly against her stomach, he felt the slickness return that had aided his motions in the meadow, and as his lips pressed kisses and a love bite to the slight softness of her belly a fleeting thought surprised him and yet seemed entirely possible. His chin brushed against the hair on her mound in his quest to taste every part of her, and a tug in his own locks brought him surging back up to catch hold of her lips once more, unable to decide how best to drive her as mad as he felt himself.
It was different this time. This time they both knew what they wanted and more of what they were doing, they'd had time to learn one another and what they liked, what drove their passions and what dampened them, and though Iason was still uncertain of plenty, in this he was as confident as he could be. With her beneath him, cradled in the embrace of his body as if he could shelter her from any ill in the world, he felt whole. Her eager response to his kisses and caresses urged him on, and with her vocal encouragement his fingers once again found the most sensitive part of her.
Iason recalled their time in the meadow, this new position made it far easier to maneuver than it had been with her on his lap, following the memory and her sounds that coupled with the tightness of her hand in his hair. As he stroked gently at her soft skin he found himself distracted by the passion of their kisses, pausing unintentionally until he finally broke away, focusing his attentions on the work of his hand as he sought those moans she had breathed in his ear before. His lips found her chest instead, sinking slightly down the bed to focus on tasting every inch of her skin that had not been available to him before.
Breathing a moan hotly against her stomach, he felt the slickness return that had aided his motions in the meadow, and as his lips pressed kisses and a love bite to the slight softness of her belly a fleeting thought surprised him and yet seemed entirely possible. His chin brushed against the hair on her mound in his quest to taste every part of her, and a tug in his own locks brought him surging back up to catch hold of her lips once more, unable to decide how best to drive her as mad as he felt himself.
Persephone was overwhelmed. Everything was too much. Her lungs didn't feel as if they could draw enough air, her limbs felt afire, her central core wound tight with tension. For all intents and purposes, it felt as it did when she had a fever. When she was ill abed and unable to control her rising temperature, the warming of her skin or the harshness of her breathing. Yet, at the same time, it was entirely different. Instead of sapping her strength and turning her lethargic with sickness, this fever burnt her into action and activity. It infused her muscles, and built a deep-seeded need that she neither understood nor could control.
It felt to her mind and body as if every inch of her skin that was not touching an element of Iason's was wasteful. That her sole purpose in life and need for survival was to touch every sweep of his skin with every particle of hers; that they were to be as close as possible before they dissolved into one another, else she the fire may cool. And it was every desire within her to see the flames burn her from the inside out rather than allow them to dull.
As Iason kissed his way down the length of her body, Persephone felt suddenly more exposed than she had before. No longer distracted by his kisses, she could only look up towards the white gossamer coating of the bed, feel the lengths of her hair beneath her head and wantonly dishevelled around her shoulders. Whilst one of her hands remained in Iason's hair, the other was lost to his touch and it hung at her side uselessly, her inexperience not knowing what to do with it.
Closing her eyes to block out the real world and any awkwardness that might intrude on this moment, Persephone's lower lip came between her teeth as she withed beneath her future husband's touch. His lips traced down around the mound of her breast, down over the flatness of her belly and - as his lips drew lower - Persephone found her eyes flying open with surprise at the thought that he might continue to kiss down to where his fingers played utter havoc with her senses.
For surely that was not done? So scandalous it seemed at the very notion, yet her hips seemed to suggest otherwise. She felt her inner most secrets crave Iason's touch in whatever way it could and give his mouth could be so wonderous against hers, how might it feel against her womanhood?
Persephone felt her cheeks flare red, for surely that had not been his intention and her mind had become debauched with passions. Perhaps she was degenerate in her until now untapped private desires. She could not allow Iason to know how grotesque her thoughts had become at his expense. Instead, her grip in his thick locks tightened and she tried to encourage him back up her body in order to kiss her once more - to drive the feverish thoughts from her mind and distract her once more with the communion of their affections.
It was as he came up to kiss her that Iason's fingertips found the spot he had before in the meadow. A spot she had not found herself before yesterday and knew not of its existence. A place among her secrets that set her neck arching, her back bending and her knees naturally falling open in wanton invitation, for it took only the touching of her there to have her limbs be entirely beyond her control.
The wetness that now formed between her legs was encouraging, for it was a reaction Persephone had known already and it seemed only logical to her that if Iason was to join his body with hers then any degree of slipperiness must help. The Gods had made the female body a wonderous thing it would seem.
Such a thought had her wondering at the formation of the male shape. The fact that Iason would surely hold the wonder of the Gods in his own body, had Persephone blinking at the realisation that her husband had been touching and pleasing her since they had undressed. Were these the attentions she was expected to bestow upon him in return? Did men require the touch of their woman to be ready for coupling as a woman so clearly did from her man?
Moving her idle hand back to Iason's frame, Persephone's touch was lighter than a feather, likely almost ticklish in its delicacy for she was nervous to not step wrong and ruin the experience that was a new to Iason as it was to her. Her fingertips trailed down over his chest and curved to his side, where she following the ridges of his ribs to his hip.
Breaking their kiss so that she might look down and witness what she was doing before she could go wrong, the back of her knuckles, soft compared to his for she had never done manual labour, brushed along the line of muscle from hip joint... to the curling hair that lay around his most male element.
Not wanting to injure or offend the man who had been the one to have her pulse racing and her lungs straining with desire, Persephone's lashes lifted as she looked towards Iason for guidance. Her expression was curious and willing but fearful that such an intimate caress would not be welcome...
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Persephone was overwhelmed. Everything was too much. Her lungs didn't feel as if they could draw enough air, her limbs felt afire, her central core wound tight with tension. For all intents and purposes, it felt as it did when she had a fever. When she was ill abed and unable to control her rising temperature, the warming of her skin or the harshness of her breathing. Yet, at the same time, it was entirely different. Instead of sapping her strength and turning her lethargic with sickness, this fever burnt her into action and activity. It infused her muscles, and built a deep-seeded need that she neither understood nor could control.
It felt to her mind and body as if every inch of her skin that was not touching an element of Iason's was wasteful. That her sole purpose in life and need for survival was to touch every sweep of his skin with every particle of hers; that they were to be as close as possible before they dissolved into one another, else she the fire may cool. And it was every desire within her to see the flames burn her from the inside out rather than allow them to dull.
As Iason kissed his way down the length of her body, Persephone felt suddenly more exposed than she had before. No longer distracted by his kisses, she could only look up towards the white gossamer coating of the bed, feel the lengths of her hair beneath her head and wantonly dishevelled around her shoulders. Whilst one of her hands remained in Iason's hair, the other was lost to his touch and it hung at her side uselessly, her inexperience not knowing what to do with it.
Closing her eyes to block out the real world and any awkwardness that might intrude on this moment, Persephone's lower lip came between her teeth as she withed beneath her future husband's touch. His lips traced down around the mound of her breast, down over the flatness of her belly and - as his lips drew lower - Persephone found her eyes flying open with surprise at the thought that he might continue to kiss down to where his fingers played utter havoc with her senses.
For surely that was not done? So scandalous it seemed at the very notion, yet her hips seemed to suggest otherwise. She felt her inner most secrets crave Iason's touch in whatever way it could and give his mouth could be so wonderous against hers, how might it feel against her womanhood?
Persephone felt her cheeks flare red, for surely that had not been his intention and her mind had become debauched with passions. Perhaps she was degenerate in her until now untapped private desires. She could not allow Iason to know how grotesque her thoughts had become at his expense. Instead, her grip in his thick locks tightened and she tried to encourage him back up her body in order to kiss her once more - to drive the feverish thoughts from her mind and distract her once more with the communion of their affections.
It was as he came up to kiss her that Iason's fingertips found the spot he had before in the meadow. A spot she had not found herself before yesterday and knew not of its existence. A place among her secrets that set her neck arching, her back bending and her knees naturally falling open in wanton invitation, for it took only the touching of her there to have her limbs be entirely beyond her control.
The wetness that now formed between her legs was encouraging, for it was a reaction Persephone had known already and it seemed only logical to her that if Iason was to join his body with hers then any degree of slipperiness must help. The Gods had made the female body a wonderous thing it would seem.
Such a thought had her wondering at the formation of the male shape. The fact that Iason would surely hold the wonder of the Gods in his own body, had Persephone blinking at the realisation that her husband had been touching and pleasing her since they had undressed. Were these the attentions she was expected to bestow upon him in return? Did men require the touch of their woman to be ready for coupling as a woman so clearly did from her man?
Moving her idle hand back to Iason's frame, Persephone's touch was lighter than a feather, likely almost ticklish in its delicacy for she was nervous to not step wrong and ruin the experience that was a new to Iason as it was to her. Her fingertips trailed down over his chest and curved to his side, where she following the ridges of his ribs to his hip.
Breaking their kiss so that she might look down and witness what she was doing before she could go wrong, the back of her knuckles, soft compared to his for she had never done manual labour, brushed along the line of muscle from hip joint... to the curling hair that lay around his most male element.
Not wanting to injure or offend the man who had been the one to have her pulse racing and her lungs straining with desire, Persephone's lashes lifted as she looked towards Iason for guidance. Her expression was curious and willing but fearful that such an intimate caress would not be welcome...
Persephone was overwhelmed. Everything was too much. Her lungs didn't feel as if they could draw enough air, her limbs felt afire, her central core wound tight with tension. For all intents and purposes, it felt as it did when she had a fever. When she was ill abed and unable to control her rising temperature, the warming of her skin or the harshness of her breathing. Yet, at the same time, it was entirely different. Instead of sapping her strength and turning her lethargic with sickness, this fever burnt her into action and activity. It infused her muscles, and built a deep-seeded need that she neither understood nor could control.
It felt to her mind and body as if every inch of her skin that was not touching an element of Iason's was wasteful. That her sole purpose in life and need for survival was to touch every sweep of his skin with every particle of hers; that they were to be as close as possible before they dissolved into one another, else she the fire may cool. And it was every desire within her to see the flames burn her from the inside out rather than allow them to dull.
As Iason kissed his way down the length of her body, Persephone felt suddenly more exposed than she had before. No longer distracted by his kisses, she could only look up towards the white gossamer coating of the bed, feel the lengths of her hair beneath her head and wantonly dishevelled around her shoulders. Whilst one of her hands remained in Iason's hair, the other was lost to his touch and it hung at her side uselessly, her inexperience not knowing what to do with it.
Closing her eyes to block out the real world and any awkwardness that might intrude on this moment, Persephone's lower lip came between her teeth as she withed beneath her future husband's touch. His lips traced down around the mound of her breast, down over the flatness of her belly and - as his lips drew lower - Persephone found her eyes flying open with surprise at the thought that he might continue to kiss down to where his fingers played utter havoc with her senses.
For surely that was not done? So scandalous it seemed at the very notion, yet her hips seemed to suggest otherwise. She felt her inner most secrets crave Iason's touch in whatever way it could and give his mouth could be so wonderous against hers, how might it feel against her womanhood?
Persephone felt her cheeks flare red, for surely that had not been his intention and her mind had become debauched with passions. Perhaps she was degenerate in her until now untapped private desires. She could not allow Iason to know how grotesque her thoughts had become at his expense. Instead, her grip in his thick locks tightened and she tried to encourage him back up her body in order to kiss her once more - to drive the feverish thoughts from her mind and distract her once more with the communion of their affections.
It was as he came up to kiss her that Iason's fingertips found the spot he had before in the meadow. A spot she had not found herself before yesterday and knew not of its existence. A place among her secrets that set her neck arching, her back bending and her knees naturally falling open in wanton invitation, for it took only the touching of her there to have her limbs be entirely beyond her control.
The wetness that now formed between her legs was encouraging, for it was a reaction Persephone had known already and it seemed only logical to her that if Iason was to join his body with hers then any degree of slipperiness must help. The Gods had made the female body a wonderous thing it would seem.
Such a thought had her wondering at the formation of the male shape. The fact that Iason would surely hold the wonder of the Gods in his own body, had Persephone blinking at the realisation that her husband had been touching and pleasing her since they had undressed. Were these the attentions she was expected to bestow upon him in return? Did men require the touch of their woman to be ready for coupling as a woman so clearly did from her man?
Moving her idle hand back to Iason's frame, Persephone's touch was lighter than a feather, likely almost ticklish in its delicacy for she was nervous to not step wrong and ruin the experience that was a new to Iason as it was to her. Her fingertips trailed down over his chest and curved to his side, where she following the ridges of his ribs to his hip.
Breaking their kiss so that she might look down and witness what she was doing before she could go wrong, the back of her knuckles, soft compared to his for she had never done manual labour, brushed along the line of muscle from hip joint... to the curling hair that lay around his most male element.
Not wanting to injure or offend the man who had been the one to have her pulse racing and her lungs straining with desire, Persephone's lashes lifted as she looked towards Iason for guidance. Her expression was curious and willing but fearful that such an intimate caress would not be welcome...
Her hand in his hair was sending a wave of shivering delight down his spine, setting his senses alight in a way he hadn't thought possible. It wasn't as if he'd spend an inordinate amount of time considering what he might enjoy in bed with his lover, but of all the things he'd thought of he'd never considered the effect her grip in his hair might have. The press of their bodies and heat between them felt enhanced each time her fingertips scratched against his scalp, the tension between her hold and his locks setting nerve endings alight he hadn't known existed.
It seemed he was succeeding in his quest to duplicate her reaction from the day before, but it was also somehow different. Being able to hold her so close and feeling each spasm and jolt of her muscles, knowing that it was all due to him, there was an intoxication that came from the experience of before. Though he ached for something more his focus was entirely on Persephone until her hand began tracing along his side. Shivering at the ticklish sensation, he didn't anticipate where she planned to go, but the softness of her touch against his hip ignited a need he hadn't known before.
Persephone's shift brought his focus back to her eyes, lips parted though he longed to kiss her forever, and he followed her gaze as it mirrored her touch. A sharp breath of desire left him as she hesitated, and Iason didn't know how to express how badly he needed her to touch him. In all of their intimate ventures together, they had never been to this moment before and he was suddenly very lost for words. His hand never stopped urging her to that peak, determined to bring her the pleasure she had spoken of before, and giving the slightest nod of encouragement.
"Please...Persephone.."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Her hand in his hair was sending a wave of shivering delight down his spine, setting his senses alight in a way he hadn't thought possible. It wasn't as if he'd spend an inordinate amount of time considering what he might enjoy in bed with his lover, but of all the things he'd thought of he'd never considered the effect her grip in his hair might have. The press of their bodies and heat between them felt enhanced each time her fingertips scratched against his scalp, the tension between her hold and his locks setting nerve endings alight he hadn't known existed.
It seemed he was succeeding in his quest to duplicate her reaction from the day before, but it was also somehow different. Being able to hold her so close and feeling each spasm and jolt of her muscles, knowing that it was all due to him, there was an intoxication that came from the experience of before. Though he ached for something more his focus was entirely on Persephone until her hand began tracing along his side. Shivering at the ticklish sensation, he didn't anticipate where she planned to go, but the softness of her touch against his hip ignited a need he hadn't known before.
Persephone's shift brought his focus back to her eyes, lips parted though he longed to kiss her forever, and he followed her gaze as it mirrored her touch. A sharp breath of desire left him as she hesitated, and Iason didn't know how to express how badly he needed her to touch him. In all of their intimate ventures together, they had never been to this moment before and he was suddenly very lost for words. His hand never stopped urging her to that peak, determined to bring her the pleasure she had spoken of before, and giving the slightest nod of encouragement.
"Please...Persephone.."
Her hand in his hair was sending a wave of shivering delight down his spine, setting his senses alight in a way he hadn't thought possible. It wasn't as if he'd spend an inordinate amount of time considering what he might enjoy in bed with his lover, but of all the things he'd thought of he'd never considered the effect her grip in his hair might have. The press of their bodies and heat between them felt enhanced each time her fingertips scratched against his scalp, the tension between her hold and his locks setting nerve endings alight he hadn't known existed.
It seemed he was succeeding in his quest to duplicate her reaction from the day before, but it was also somehow different. Being able to hold her so close and feeling each spasm and jolt of her muscles, knowing that it was all due to him, there was an intoxication that came from the experience of before. Though he ached for something more his focus was entirely on Persephone until her hand began tracing along his side. Shivering at the ticklish sensation, he didn't anticipate where she planned to go, but the softness of her touch against his hip ignited a need he hadn't known before.
Persephone's shift brought his focus back to her eyes, lips parted though he longed to kiss her forever, and he followed her gaze as it mirrored her touch. A sharp breath of desire left him as she hesitated, and Iason didn't know how to express how badly he needed her to touch him. In all of their intimate ventures together, they had never been to this moment before and he was suddenly very lost for words. His hand never stopped urging her to that peak, determined to bring her the pleasure she had spoken of before, and giving the slightest nod of encouragement.
"Please...Persephone.."
There had been times in their courtship, their exploration of one another in kisses and touches, where Persephone had wished that Iason had not kept himself chaste for so many years. Times when she wished to be experiencing her own awakening at the hands of someone who knew what to expect and how they liked to be roused. Someone who might be able to offer her tutelage and a clear aid in that which she did not know.
This was not one of those times. This time, Persephone was glad for Iason's lack of experience. She was pleased that her stumbling, clumsy attempts at seduction would not be compared to another woman, one who knew how to please a man. She was less nervous of her own ill-conceived touches and strokes than she might have been, had she been concerned for Iason's inner thoughts on the matter at hand.
Instead, she knew that they were both learning and exploring, not only what the other adored but what aroused themselves to desirous thoughts and actions.
As she looked up to him to ask for guidance in how she should proceed with her touches, she was forced to gasp and break contact for a moment as he continued to stroke at her softest skin. The touch was distracting and caused her to focus inward and wonderous sensations that he inspired, but it meant her less able to concentrate on her offering of physical joy to him.
Gently, Persephone shifted her hand from his curls to the wrist of the hand that built such tension between her legs. With a smile so that he knew she was not displeased with his attentions, she guided his hand to rest upon her hip and bottom, away from where it proved such a distraction so that it might be her turn to convey onto him the pleasure that he was so diligent at giving to her.
Inhaling softly, her gaze moving back to Iason's face so that she might know from his expressions when she stepped wrongly, she allowed her passions to guide her into the actions unbecoming for a princess but most dutiful for a wife.
The first touch was a surprise to her.
As Iason had stood before her, his masculinity risen to defy physics, she had expected the... member, to be hard to the touch. Turgid in shape so as to keep it upright. Instead, she found skin as soft and silken as her own.
Marvelling at the texture, so at odds with the rough and rugged image of Iason, such a contrast to the callouses on his hands and roughened edges of his bearded jaw... Persephone traced her fingertips along its length, from base to tip. She was infinitely gentle, unsure if soft skin equated to delicate and not wishing to harm him.
She watched as Iason's expressions changed and his breath seemed to catch in his chest.
Emboldened, Persephone glanced down to witness her ministrations. With care, she wrapped her palm around Iason's manhood and was shocked to find a strange dichotomy. Whilst the outside was soft, pliable and shifted if her hand moved at all, there was a solid, ironness beneath that remained hard as marble. Shifting her hand up towards the tip of his shape, Persephone was amazing to note as the slick skin moved fluidly over the hardened core, encouraging her to tighten her grip.
Not wanting to move too far without Iason's blessing, for she was still unsure as to the process they were due for in their coupling, Persephone looked to his features once more to check his reaction, only to see him wincing as if in pain.
Horrified, Persephone immediately let go, an apology stumbling over her tongue as she naturally pulled back...
“I hurt you. Iason, forgive me.”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
There had been times in their courtship, their exploration of one another in kisses and touches, where Persephone had wished that Iason had not kept himself chaste for so many years. Times when she wished to be experiencing her own awakening at the hands of someone who knew what to expect and how they liked to be roused. Someone who might be able to offer her tutelage and a clear aid in that which she did not know.
This was not one of those times. This time, Persephone was glad for Iason's lack of experience. She was pleased that her stumbling, clumsy attempts at seduction would not be compared to another woman, one who knew how to please a man. She was less nervous of her own ill-conceived touches and strokes than she might have been, had she been concerned for Iason's inner thoughts on the matter at hand.
Instead, she knew that they were both learning and exploring, not only what the other adored but what aroused themselves to desirous thoughts and actions.
As she looked up to him to ask for guidance in how she should proceed with her touches, she was forced to gasp and break contact for a moment as he continued to stroke at her softest skin. The touch was distracting and caused her to focus inward and wonderous sensations that he inspired, but it meant her less able to concentrate on her offering of physical joy to him.
Gently, Persephone shifted her hand from his curls to the wrist of the hand that built such tension between her legs. With a smile so that he knew she was not displeased with his attentions, she guided his hand to rest upon her hip and bottom, away from where it proved such a distraction so that it might be her turn to convey onto him the pleasure that he was so diligent at giving to her.
Inhaling softly, her gaze moving back to Iason's face so that she might know from his expressions when she stepped wrongly, she allowed her passions to guide her into the actions unbecoming for a princess but most dutiful for a wife.
The first touch was a surprise to her.
As Iason had stood before her, his masculinity risen to defy physics, she had expected the... member, to be hard to the touch. Turgid in shape so as to keep it upright. Instead, she found skin as soft and silken as her own.
Marvelling at the texture, so at odds with the rough and rugged image of Iason, such a contrast to the callouses on his hands and roughened edges of his bearded jaw... Persephone traced her fingertips along its length, from base to tip. She was infinitely gentle, unsure if soft skin equated to delicate and not wishing to harm him.
She watched as Iason's expressions changed and his breath seemed to catch in his chest.
Emboldened, Persephone glanced down to witness her ministrations. With care, she wrapped her palm around Iason's manhood and was shocked to find a strange dichotomy. Whilst the outside was soft, pliable and shifted if her hand moved at all, there was a solid, ironness beneath that remained hard as marble. Shifting her hand up towards the tip of his shape, Persephone was amazing to note as the slick skin moved fluidly over the hardened core, encouraging her to tighten her grip.
Not wanting to move too far without Iason's blessing, for she was still unsure as to the process they were due for in their coupling, Persephone looked to his features once more to check his reaction, only to see him wincing as if in pain.
Horrified, Persephone immediately let go, an apology stumbling over her tongue as she naturally pulled back...
“I hurt you. Iason, forgive me.”
There had been times in their courtship, their exploration of one another in kisses and touches, where Persephone had wished that Iason had not kept himself chaste for so many years. Times when she wished to be experiencing her own awakening at the hands of someone who knew what to expect and how they liked to be roused. Someone who might be able to offer her tutelage and a clear aid in that which she did not know.
This was not one of those times. This time, Persephone was glad for Iason's lack of experience. She was pleased that her stumbling, clumsy attempts at seduction would not be compared to another woman, one who knew how to please a man. She was less nervous of her own ill-conceived touches and strokes than she might have been, had she been concerned for Iason's inner thoughts on the matter at hand.
Instead, she knew that they were both learning and exploring, not only what the other adored but what aroused themselves to desirous thoughts and actions.
As she looked up to him to ask for guidance in how she should proceed with her touches, she was forced to gasp and break contact for a moment as he continued to stroke at her softest skin. The touch was distracting and caused her to focus inward and wonderous sensations that he inspired, but it meant her less able to concentrate on her offering of physical joy to him.
Gently, Persephone shifted her hand from his curls to the wrist of the hand that built such tension between her legs. With a smile so that he knew she was not displeased with his attentions, she guided his hand to rest upon her hip and bottom, away from where it proved such a distraction so that it might be her turn to convey onto him the pleasure that he was so diligent at giving to her.
Inhaling softly, her gaze moving back to Iason's face so that she might know from his expressions when she stepped wrongly, she allowed her passions to guide her into the actions unbecoming for a princess but most dutiful for a wife.
The first touch was a surprise to her.
As Iason had stood before her, his masculinity risen to defy physics, she had expected the... member, to be hard to the touch. Turgid in shape so as to keep it upright. Instead, she found skin as soft and silken as her own.
Marvelling at the texture, so at odds with the rough and rugged image of Iason, such a contrast to the callouses on his hands and roughened edges of his bearded jaw... Persephone traced her fingertips along its length, from base to tip. She was infinitely gentle, unsure if soft skin equated to delicate and not wishing to harm him.
She watched as Iason's expressions changed and his breath seemed to catch in his chest.
Emboldened, Persephone glanced down to witness her ministrations. With care, she wrapped her palm around Iason's manhood and was shocked to find a strange dichotomy. Whilst the outside was soft, pliable and shifted if her hand moved at all, there was a solid, ironness beneath that remained hard as marble. Shifting her hand up towards the tip of his shape, Persephone was amazing to note as the slick skin moved fluidly over the hardened core, encouraging her to tighten her grip.
Not wanting to move too far without Iason's blessing, for she was still unsure as to the process they were due for in their coupling, Persephone looked to his features once more to check his reaction, only to see him wincing as if in pain.
Horrified, Persephone immediately let go, an apology stumbling over her tongue as she naturally pulled back...
“I hurt you. Iason, forgive me.”
If anyone had asked him what his thoughts on how this first time between them would go, he would have answered that he anticipated awkwardness. Perhaps a few missteps between them along the way or a disconnect that they would eventually work through. What he hadn’t considered would be the instinct of human passion. With Persephone laid before him, such intoxicating expressions of pleasure on her face and sounds that drove him wild falling from her lips, he felt as if this was what all of his comrades had been talking about. The desire for her was overwhelming, and he felt as if every part of him was aflame just for her.
When she caught his wrist, moving it aside he thought perhaps she’d found her peak and he hadn’t noticed, a flush of embarrassment sweeping through him until he realized where her touch was heading. As much as she was surprised by the initial brush of her hand he was equally shocked, inhaling sharply as all of his nerve endings were set alight in a way entirely different than before. He’d handled himself on occasion, when the need for a release was felt, but her hand was so much softer, gentler, smaller than his own it was completely different. A shaky breath left him as she wrapped her hand around him, the slide of skin sending a jolt of pleasure through him.
He was lost in the moment and clearly unaware of his features that were unable to hide how he felt. Hips thrust slightly into her touch without his bidding and the groan that had begun was broken as she suddenly let go and began apologizing. Iason blinked his eyes open, looking to her with a pained confusion and desperate for her to touch him again.
“What..no..” Trying to gather what he was trying to say he lay beside her and tucked his head against her shoulder, breathing hotly against her neck. “It’s not pain..”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
If anyone had asked him what his thoughts on how this first time between them would go, he would have answered that he anticipated awkwardness. Perhaps a few missteps between them along the way or a disconnect that they would eventually work through. What he hadn’t considered would be the instinct of human passion. With Persephone laid before him, such intoxicating expressions of pleasure on her face and sounds that drove him wild falling from her lips, he felt as if this was what all of his comrades had been talking about. The desire for her was overwhelming, and he felt as if every part of him was aflame just for her.
When she caught his wrist, moving it aside he thought perhaps she’d found her peak and he hadn’t noticed, a flush of embarrassment sweeping through him until he realized where her touch was heading. As much as she was surprised by the initial brush of her hand he was equally shocked, inhaling sharply as all of his nerve endings were set alight in a way entirely different than before. He’d handled himself on occasion, when the need for a release was felt, but her hand was so much softer, gentler, smaller than his own it was completely different. A shaky breath left him as she wrapped her hand around him, the slide of skin sending a jolt of pleasure through him.
He was lost in the moment and clearly unaware of his features that were unable to hide how he felt. Hips thrust slightly into her touch without his bidding and the groan that had begun was broken as she suddenly let go and began apologizing. Iason blinked his eyes open, looking to her with a pained confusion and desperate for her to touch him again.
“What..no..” Trying to gather what he was trying to say he lay beside her and tucked his head against her shoulder, breathing hotly against her neck. “It’s not pain..”
If anyone had asked him what his thoughts on how this first time between them would go, he would have answered that he anticipated awkwardness. Perhaps a few missteps between them along the way or a disconnect that they would eventually work through. What he hadn’t considered would be the instinct of human passion. With Persephone laid before him, such intoxicating expressions of pleasure on her face and sounds that drove him wild falling from her lips, he felt as if this was what all of his comrades had been talking about. The desire for her was overwhelming, and he felt as if every part of him was aflame just for her.
When she caught his wrist, moving it aside he thought perhaps she’d found her peak and he hadn’t noticed, a flush of embarrassment sweeping through him until he realized where her touch was heading. As much as she was surprised by the initial brush of her hand he was equally shocked, inhaling sharply as all of his nerve endings were set alight in a way entirely different than before. He’d handled himself on occasion, when the need for a release was felt, but her hand was so much softer, gentler, smaller than his own it was completely different. A shaky breath left him as she wrapped her hand around him, the slide of skin sending a jolt of pleasure through him.
He was lost in the moment and clearly unaware of his features that were unable to hide how he felt. Hips thrust slightly into her touch without his bidding and the groan that had begun was broken as she suddenly let go and began apologizing. Iason blinked his eyes open, looking to her with a pained confusion and desperate for her to touch him again.
“What..no..” Trying to gather what he was trying to say he lay beside her and tucked his head against her shoulder, breathing hotly against her neck. “It’s not pain..”
Persephone's breath caught as Iason drew her close, her voice exhaling on a new of surrender as his lips found her neck and his words assured her of no mistake. That he had not been in pain. Confused for a moment, Persephone considered the moment in the meadow, where her innermost muscles had been so tightly wound that they had been almost painful. Assuming that to be the case and permitting trust in the man she was willing to give her body to, Persephone needed only one reassurance.
"Then... It is pleasurable...? My touching you?"
At his confirmation of it, Persephone reached down once more, eager to offer him the reverence he had already paid to her. She knew that he had doubted, many times, her choice to be with him as his wife in Taengea. She wanted, if she could, to assure him in her touch, that she was certain of this and of her giving of herself to him.
Her fingers wrapped around his shape again, trembling slightly with fearful anticipation to please and not fail in her efforts as a lover, regardless of experience. As she had already experienced, Iason's skin moved fluidly over the hardened centre of his manhood so it seemed natural to stroke and shift her hand up and down, feeling his body tighten harder in her grip and even jolt a little at such attentions.
Looking up to Iason once more, Persephone leant up to claim his mouth, all the while keeping her hand in motion.
For several minutes, she aimed to bring Iason pleasure, listening to his breathing, his noises... The manner in which his heart thrummed in his neck and against her palm. But what she had not expected was the passion and heat it brought to her own body, to witness a partner in rapture. By giving desire, she created her own and was wonderous at the effect as her breathing became heavy, her hips offering themselves in Iason's direction as the linens beneath her shoulder shifted with their weight.
It was only as moisture was felt upon her palm that Persephone stopped, her gaze dropping as she let go once more to notice a single, small droplet upon the tip of Iason's manhood. Initially panicked that she had been rough and forced the man to bleed, Persephone had pulled back to witness, only to observe the liquid to be white rather than crimson.
Completely ignorant at the ways and process of sex, Persephone was none the wiser, despite being placated that she had not injured Iason.
"What...?" She wasn't sure how to word a question regarding that which she did not know and looked once more to the man before her, her eyes wide with curious anticipation.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Persephone's breath caught as Iason drew her close, her voice exhaling on a new of surrender as his lips found her neck and his words assured her of no mistake. That he had not been in pain. Confused for a moment, Persephone considered the moment in the meadow, where her innermost muscles had been so tightly wound that they had been almost painful. Assuming that to be the case and permitting trust in the man she was willing to give her body to, Persephone needed only one reassurance.
"Then... It is pleasurable...? My touching you?"
At his confirmation of it, Persephone reached down once more, eager to offer him the reverence he had already paid to her. She knew that he had doubted, many times, her choice to be with him as his wife in Taengea. She wanted, if she could, to assure him in her touch, that she was certain of this and of her giving of herself to him.
Her fingers wrapped around his shape again, trembling slightly with fearful anticipation to please and not fail in her efforts as a lover, regardless of experience. As she had already experienced, Iason's skin moved fluidly over the hardened centre of his manhood so it seemed natural to stroke and shift her hand up and down, feeling his body tighten harder in her grip and even jolt a little at such attentions.
Looking up to Iason once more, Persephone leant up to claim his mouth, all the while keeping her hand in motion.
For several minutes, she aimed to bring Iason pleasure, listening to his breathing, his noises... The manner in which his heart thrummed in his neck and against her palm. But what she had not expected was the passion and heat it brought to her own body, to witness a partner in rapture. By giving desire, she created her own and was wonderous at the effect as her breathing became heavy, her hips offering themselves in Iason's direction as the linens beneath her shoulder shifted with their weight.
It was only as moisture was felt upon her palm that Persephone stopped, her gaze dropping as she let go once more to notice a single, small droplet upon the tip of Iason's manhood. Initially panicked that she had been rough and forced the man to bleed, Persephone had pulled back to witness, only to observe the liquid to be white rather than crimson.
Completely ignorant at the ways and process of sex, Persephone was none the wiser, despite being placated that she had not injured Iason.
"What...?" She wasn't sure how to word a question regarding that which she did not know and looked once more to the man before her, her eyes wide with curious anticipation.
Persephone's breath caught as Iason drew her close, her voice exhaling on a new of surrender as his lips found her neck and his words assured her of no mistake. That he had not been in pain. Confused for a moment, Persephone considered the moment in the meadow, where her innermost muscles had been so tightly wound that they had been almost painful. Assuming that to be the case and permitting trust in the man she was willing to give her body to, Persephone needed only one reassurance.
"Then... It is pleasurable...? My touching you?"
At his confirmation of it, Persephone reached down once more, eager to offer him the reverence he had already paid to her. She knew that he had doubted, many times, her choice to be with him as his wife in Taengea. She wanted, if she could, to assure him in her touch, that she was certain of this and of her giving of herself to him.
Her fingers wrapped around his shape again, trembling slightly with fearful anticipation to please and not fail in her efforts as a lover, regardless of experience. As she had already experienced, Iason's skin moved fluidly over the hardened centre of his manhood so it seemed natural to stroke and shift her hand up and down, feeling his body tighten harder in her grip and even jolt a little at such attentions.
Looking up to Iason once more, Persephone leant up to claim his mouth, all the while keeping her hand in motion.
For several minutes, she aimed to bring Iason pleasure, listening to his breathing, his noises... The manner in which his heart thrummed in his neck and against her palm. But what she had not expected was the passion and heat it brought to her own body, to witness a partner in rapture. By giving desire, she created her own and was wonderous at the effect as her breathing became heavy, her hips offering themselves in Iason's direction as the linens beneath her shoulder shifted with their weight.
It was only as moisture was felt upon her palm that Persephone stopped, her gaze dropping as she let go once more to notice a single, small droplet upon the tip of Iason's manhood. Initially panicked that she had been rough and forced the man to bleed, Persephone had pulled back to witness, only to observe the liquid to be white rather than crimson.
Completely ignorant at the ways and process of sex, Persephone was none the wiser, despite being placated that she had not injured Iason.
"What...?" She wasn't sure how to word a question regarding that which she did not know and looked once more to the man before her, her eyes wide with curious anticipation.
“Yes.”
The word was strained as he breathed it against her skin between kisses pressed to her neck and jaw, a low sound leaving his throat as she took hold of him again. His breath quickened, growing harsher as she gained more confidence, his hips moving automatically with her touch. Kissing her eagerly as she leaned up into him, Iason braced himself upright on one elbow, the other hand winding through her dark locks to hold her close. He lost track of time entirely, wound up in this moment with her until she stopped again and his body seemed to move without his consent, one word exhaled through gritted teeth in reassurance.
“Normal.”
That at least was something he knew for sure. Instinct took hold as he shifted, rolling atop her as they had been that first night of the storm, his hand at her hip searching for a way to join them. Unwilling to stop kissing her even to aid his efforts, a few soft noises of frustration escaped until finally with some adjustment of his hips he pressed forward and found what he sought. It took the remaining willpower he had to keep himself slow, the feel of her around him something indescribable.
“Persephone…”
In the past when people had tried to describe to him what he was missing, he’d scoffed and brushed it off, foolishly thinking that nothing could be as good as they described. He knew now he was wrong, and some animal part of his mind scolded him for not previously indulging in past lovers, for waiting so long for this. Only once they were fully joined did his lust clouded gaze find hers, the remaining sensibility he had worried that he’d hurt her, moved to fast, some something wrong. It was impossible to read her expression and he stilled as much as he wanted to move, concern filtering in.
“Are you alright?”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
“Yes.”
The word was strained as he breathed it against her skin between kisses pressed to her neck and jaw, a low sound leaving his throat as she took hold of him again. His breath quickened, growing harsher as she gained more confidence, his hips moving automatically with her touch. Kissing her eagerly as she leaned up into him, Iason braced himself upright on one elbow, the other hand winding through her dark locks to hold her close. He lost track of time entirely, wound up in this moment with her until she stopped again and his body seemed to move without his consent, one word exhaled through gritted teeth in reassurance.
“Normal.”
That at least was something he knew for sure. Instinct took hold as he shifted, rolling atop her as they had been that first night of the storm, his hand at her hip searching for a way to join them. Unwilling to stop kissing her even to aid his efforts, a few soft noises of frustration escaped until finally with some adjustment of his hips he pressed forward and found what he sought. It took the remaining willpower he had to keep himself slow, the feel of her around him something indescribable.
“Persephone…”
In the past when people had tried to describe to him what he was missing, he’d scoffed and brushed it off, foolishly thinking that nothing could be as good as they described. He knew now he was wrong, and some animal part of his mind scolded him for not previously indulging in past lovers, for waiting so long for this. Only once they were fully joined did his lust clouded gaze find hers, the remaining sensibility he had worried that he’d hurt her, moved to fast, some something wrong. It was impossible to read her expression and he stilled as much as he wanted to move, concern filtering in.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes.”
The word was strained as he breathed it against her skin between kisses pressed to her neck and jaw, a low sound leaving his throat as she took hold of him again. His breath quickened, growing harsher as she gained more confidence, his hips moving automatically with her touch. Kissing her eagerly as she leaned up into him, Iason braced himself upright on one elbow, the other hand winding through her dark locks to hold her close. He lost track of time entirely, wound up in this moment with her until she stopped again and his body seemed to move without his consent, one word exhaled through gritted teeth in reassurance.
“Normal.”
That at least was something he knew for sure. Instinct took hold as he shifted, rolling atop her as they had been that first night of the storm, his hand at her hip searching for a way to join them. Unwilling to stop kissing her even to aid his efforts, a few soft noises of frustration escaped until finally with some adjustment of his hips he pressed forward and found what he sought. It took the remaining willpower he had to keep himself slow, the feel of her around him something indescribable.
“Persephone…”
In the past when people had tried to describe to him what he was missing, he’d scoffed and brushed it off, foolishly thinking that nothing could be as good as they described. He knew now he was wrong, and some animal part of his mind scolded him for not previously indulging in past lovers, for waiting so long for this. Only once they were fully joined did his lust clouded gaze find hers, the remaining sensibility he had worried that he’d hurt her, moved to fast, some something wrong. It was impossible to read her expression and he stilled as much as he wanted to move, concern filtering in.
“Are you alright?”
At his reassurance that her love making, despite its youth, was not inept, Persephone smiled against his mouth and fell prey to Iason’s attentions. As his fingers trailed into her locks and stroked at her nape, she found her neck bowing back and her spine arching forwards. Her hips seemed to know where they were going and her fever was now too hot to consider shame or awkward shyness. The two of them had been together in other ways until now, had offered acts against each other’s dignity that had been accepted by each of them. There was no need to fear such embarrassment. For now, they had each seen the other in only their skin and were trusted in the acts to follow...
It was this knowledge that had Persephone's acquiesce when Iason moved to roll on top of her. Her knees naturally parted to cradle him with her body and she let her hands find places for themselves, falling upon his side and then his chest, her palm flat upon the pad of his pectoral. The weight of his frame shocked the air from her body, her lungs inflating to repair the damage and brushing the peaks of her breasts against his hair roughened chest. She felt moisture pool between her legs at the abrasion, her breath catching again before the cycle went around once more.
It was all too much. Too much sensation, too much emotion. She felt her eyes water at the sheer magnitude of it all, but she would not let them form real tears; only a glistening glean that seemed vibrant in the dying light of the afternoon. She had never yet known what it felt like to have a man's weight upon her. To feel so totally encapsulated by him. Even on the night of the storm, when Iason had hovered above her, he had never settled so comfortably to her skin or been so blatant in the connection of their most intimate parts.
Then, as he kissed her, his lips and tongue ensuring great distraction and the drowning in pleasurable sensations, Persephone felt the touch of that which she had held in her hand pressing up between her legs. Her eyes flying wide for a moment, she witnessed only Iason's eyelashes as he did not let the attempted joining of their bodies distract him from their communion. She quickly closed her eyes to follow suit but her mind had left their kiss beyond her permission and sought the touching glances of male to female.
There were a few brushes up against her pelvic floor before Persephone felt Iason's body find purchase on an entry to hers. She gasped, feeling the muscles in his chest and back change as he pushed himself forwards. There was a hard pressure and discomfort, as she felt her future husband enter her body for the first time. Her air was caught in her chest, little noises of reaction staining her lips as she continued to offer Iason his kisses and squeezed her eyes closed.
Once he had pushed beyond the boundaries of her entrance, Persephone felt the rocking motion of him shifting within to be easier. Less uncomfortable, it felt like a pressure building within that was just as exciting as it was foreign. She adjusted her hips, her body seeming to know what it was doing, as he rocked forwards once more. All the while, Persephone felt her inner walls stretching and accommodating that which she had feared not so long ago would not fit inside. A delicious stretching that made her feel whole.
There was a point at which Iason paused, allowing her to breathe and adjust. She had assumed that this was it and that he had become fully enclosed by her womanly grip but it had simply been his arrival at an obstacle.
Whilst Persephone was more than aware that a soft and light bleeding might accompany the first night between man and wife - something that had been advertised whenever a man was uncertain of whether or not his woman had remained chaste prior to legal union, Persephone had never assumed that conjugal acts would hurt. Even with such a fact to be familiar in her mind, Persephone had assumed it to feel - if it hurt at all - as her monthly time did. Achy, if anything.
So, when Iason began moving once more and, in one fell stroke, broke through a barrier she had not known was within her and settled himself wholly inside her body, Persephone's gasp became a soft cry and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Whilst it was in no way excruciating, Persephone had not expected pain, so the sharp flash of hurt was surprising and felt all the more cutting for it.
With Iason's attentions on her neck, his lips upon her skin and his body still - as if he knew that she would need a moment - Persephone took those heartbeats to try to adjust, before he raised his head to inspect her face, his touch upon her hair and cheek sweetness itself.
'Are you alright?'
The words frightened her. Not because she didn't know the answer, but because she did not wish to disappoint him. She hurt, she felt uncomfortable and her mind had gone into a galloping speed of panic that she had perhaps done something wrong. That this was not how it was to go. Iason would not know any more than she. Perhaps she was broken inside? Perhaps there was something wrong with her? She had heard tales of how wondrous and blissful the act of love was with your husband and this felt, in that moment, neither of those things. Was it because they had acted before they were joined in the eyes of the Gods? Was this punishment for their over-eagerness? Yet, she did not wish to disappoint Iason or panic him into thinking, once again, that she doubted her choice in man.
Pinned to the bed as she was, there was no way for her to back away or retreat from the act - whether she wanted to or not. But, at the same time, within a few moments which felt like lifetimes, the touch of Iason's skin, the smell of his hair, the way in which he kissed her and how his arms curled around her body in a safe and loving embrace… they were all allowing her taut body to relax; to hold upon him tight instead of feeling invaded by him. She raised her knees to either side of Iason's hips and shifted her bottom so that the angle was easier on her back and the movement sent a frisson of delight through her inner muscles that had a moan rising from her throat and hovering on her tongue.
Oh, if only she could get him to move again. That seemed to be the key to finding the pleasure in this...
Reaching up to brush the dark hair from his forehead, Persephone smiled and leant up to kiss his lips with such infinite sweetness that he could not doubt her feelings. In response, her spine flexed and her hips shifted and even that minimal movement had the moan she had held back drift into his mouth.
Yes, movement was definitely the answer…
With a look of curious eagerness on her face, and a confidence that she would never know the origin of, Persephone shifted to move her pelvis up and away from Iason, before pushing it back down, testing her theory. She winced a little as the thrust caused a spark over that singular hurt but also could not deny the delicious sensations it sparked beyond. Her eyes drifted shut as she savoured the feeling and her next smile to the man who hovered above her was one of such decadent delight that he could surely not resist following her lead…
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
At his reassurance that her love making, despite its youth, was not inept, Persephone smiled against his mouth and fell prey to Iason’s attentions. As his fingers trailed into her locks and stroked at her nape, she found her neck bowing back and her spine arching forwards. Her hips seemed to know where they were going and her fever was now too hot to consider shame or awkward shyness. The two of them had been together in other ways until now, had offered acts against each other’s dignity that had been accepted by each of them. There was no need to fear such embarrassment. For now, they had each seen the other in only their skin and were trusted in the acts to follow...
It was this knowledge that had Persephone's acquiesce when Iason moved to roll on top of her. Her knees naturally parted to cradle him with her body and she let her hands find places for themselves, falling upon his side and then his chest, her palm flat upon the pad of his pectoral. The weight of his frame shocked the air from her body, her lungs inflating to repair the damage and brushing the peaks of her breasts against his hair roughened chest. She felt moisture pool between her legs at the abrasion, her breath catching again before the cycle went around once more.
It was all too much. Too much sensation, too much emotion. She felt her eyes water at the sheer magnitude of it all, but she would not let them form real tears; only a glistening glean that seemed vibrant in the dying light of the afternoon. She had never yet known what it felt like to have a man's weight upon her. To feel so totally encapsulated by him. Even on the night of the storm, when Iason had hovered above her, he had never settled so comfortably to her skin or been so blatant in the connection of their most intimate parts.
Then, as he kissed her, his lips and tongue ensuring great distraction and the drowning in pleasurable sensations, Persephone felt the touch of that which she had held in her hand pressing up between her legs. Her eyes flying wide for a moment, she witnessed only Iason's eyelashes as he did not let the attempted joining of their bodies distract him from their communion. She quickly closed her eyes to follow suit but her mind had left their kiss beyond her permission and sought the touching glances of male to female.
There were a few brushes up against her pelvic floor before Persephone felt Iason's body find purchase on an entry to hers. She gasped, feeling the muscles in his chest and back change as he pushed himself forwards. There was a hard pressure and discomfort, as she felt her future husband enter her body for the first time. Her air was caught in her chest, little noises of reaction staining her lips as she continued to offer Iason his kisses and squeezed her eyes closed.
Once he had pushed beyond the boundaries of her entrance, Persephone felt the rocking motion of him shifting within to be easier. Less uncomfortable, it felt like a pressure building within that was just as exciting as it was foreign. She adjusted her hips, her body seeming to know what it was doing, as he rocked forwards once more. All the while, Persephone felt her inner walls stretching and accommodating that which she had feared not so long ago would not fit inside. A delicious stretching that made her feel whole.
There was a point at which Iason paused, allowing her to breathe and adjust. She had assumed that this was it and that he had become fully enclosed by her womanly grip but it had simply been his arrival at an obstacle.
Whilst Persephone was more than aware that a soft and light bleeding might accompany the first night between man and wife - something that had been advertised whenever a man was uncertain of whether or not his woman had remained chaste prior to legal union, Persephone had never assumed that conjugal acts would hurt. Even with such a fact to be familiar in her mind, Persephone had assumed it to feel - if it hurt at all - as her monthly time did. Achy, if anything.
So, when Iason began moving once more and, in one fell stroke, broke through a barrier she had not known was within her and settled himself wholly inside her body, Persephone's gasp became a soft cry and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Whilst it was in no way excruciating, Persephone had not expected pain, so the sharp flash of hurt was surprising and felt all the more cutting for it.
With Iason's attentions on her neck, his lips upon her skin and his body still - as if he knew that she would need a moment - Persephone took those heartbeats to try to adjust, before he raised his head to inspect her face, his touch upon her hair and cheek sweetness itself.
'Are you alright?'
The words frightened her. Not because she didn't know the answer, but because she did not wish to disappoint him. She hurt, she felt uncomfortable and her mind had gone into a galloping speed of panic that she had perhaps done something wrong. That this was not how it was to go. Iason would not know any more than she. Perhaps she was broken inside? Perhaps there was something wrong with her? She had heard tales of how wondrous and blissful the act of love was with your husband and this felt, in that moment, neither of those things. Was it because they had acted before they were joined in the eyes of the Gods? Was this punishment for their over-eagerness? Yet, she did not wish to disappoint Iason or panic him into thinking, once again, that she doubted her choice in man.
Pinned to the bed as she was, there was no way for her to back away or retreat from the act - whether she wanted to or not. But, at the same time, within a few moments which felt like lifetimes, the touch of Iason's skin, the smell of his hair, the way in which he kissed her and how his arms curled around her body in a safe and loving embrace… they were all allowing her taut body to relax; to hold upon him tight instead of feeling invaded by him. She raised her knees to either side of Iason's hips and shifted her bottom so that the angle was easier on her back and the movement sent a frisson of delight through her inner muscles that had a moan rising from her throat and hovering on her tongue.
Oh, if only she could get him to move again. That seemed to be the key to finding the pleasure in this...
Reaching up to brush the dark hair from his forehead, Persephone smiled and leant up to kiss his lips with such infinite sweetness that he could not doubt her feelings. In response, her spine flexed and her hips shifted and even that minimal movement had the moan she had held back drift into his mouth.
Yes, movement was definitely the answer…
With a look of curious eagerness on her face, and a confidence that she would never know the origin of, Persephone shifted to move her pelvis up and away from Iason, before pushing it back down, testing her theory. She winced a little as the thrust caused a spark over that singular hurt but also could not deny the delicious sensations it sparked beyond. Her eyes drifted shut as she savoured the feeling and her next smile to the man who hovered above her was one of such decadent delight that he could surely not resist following her lead…
At his reassurance that her love making, despite its youth, was not inept, Persephone smiled against his mouth and fell prey to Iason’s attentions. As his fingers trailed into her locks and stroked at her nape, she found her neck bowing back and her spine arching forwards. Her hips seemed to know where they were going and her fever was now too hot to consider shame or awkward shyness. The two of them had been together in other ways until now, had offered acts against each other’s dignity that had been accepted by each of them. There was no need to fear such embarrassment. For now, they had each seen the other in only their skin and were trusted in the acts to follow...
It was this knowledge that had Persephone's acquiesce when Iason moved to roll on top of her. Her knees naturally parted to cradle him with her body and she let her hands find places for themselves, falling upon his side and then his chest, her palm flat upon the pad of his pectoral. The weight of his frame shocked the air from her body, her lungs inflating to repair the damage and brushing the peaks of her breasts against his hair roughened chest. She felt moisture pool between her legs at the abrasion, her breath catching again before the cycle went around once more.
It was all too much. Too much sensation, too much emotion. She felt her eyes water at the sheer magnitude of it all, but she would not let them form real tears; only a glistening glean that seemed vibrant in the dying light of the afternoon. She had never yet known what it felt like to have a man's weight upon her. To feel so totally encapsulated by him. Even on the night of the storm, when Iason had hovered above her, he had never settled so comfortably to her skin or been so blatant in the connection of their most intimate parts.
Then, as he kissed her, his lips and tongue ensuring great distraction and the drowning in pleasurable sensations, Persephone felt the touch of that which she had held in her hand pressing up between her legs. Her eyes flying wide for a moment, she witnessed only Iason's eyelashes as he did not let the attempted joining of their bodies distract him from their communion. She quickly closed her eyes to follow suit but her mind had left their kiss beyond her permission and sought the touching glances of male to female.
There were a few brushes up against her pelvic floor before Persephone felt Iason's body find purchase on an entry to hers. She gasped, feeling the muscles in his chest and back change as he pushed himself forwards. There was a hard pressure and discomfort, as she felt her future husband enter her body for the first time. Her air was caught in her chest, little noises of reaction staining her lips as she continued to offer Iason his kisses and squeezed her eyes closed.
Once he had pushed beyond the boundaries of her entrance, Persephone felt the rocking motion of him shifting within to be easier. Less uncomfortable, it felt like a pressure building within that was just as exciting as it was foreign. She adjusted her hips, her body seeming to know what it was doing, as he rocked forwards once more. All the while, Persephone felt her inner walls stretching and accommodating that which she had feared not so long ago would not fit inside. A delicious stretching that made her feel whole.
There was a point at which Iason paused, allowing her to breathe and adjust. She had assumed that this was it and that he had become fully enclosed by her womanly grip but it had simply been his arrival at an obstacle.
Whilst Persephone was more than aware that a soft and light bleeding might accompany the first night between man and wife - something that had been advertised whenever a man was uncertain of whether or not his woman had remained chaste prior to legal union, Persephone had never assumed that conjugal acts would hurt. Even with such a fact to be familiar in her mind, Persephone had assumed it to feel - if it hurt at all - as her monthly time did. Achy, if anything.
So, when Iason began moving once more and, in one fell stroke, broke through a barrier she had not known was within her and settled himself wholly inside her body, Persephone's gasp became a soft cry and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Whilst it was in no way excruciating, Persephone had not expected pain, so the sharp flash of hurt was surprising and felt all the more cutting for it.
With Iason's attentions on her neck, his lips upon her skin and his body still - as if he knew that she would need a moment - Persephone took those heartbeats to try to adjust, before he raised his head to inspect her face, his touch upon her hair and cheek sweetness itself.
'Are you alright?'
The words frightened her. Not because she didn't know the answer, but because she did not wish to disappoint him. She hurt, she felt uncomfortable and her mind had gone into a galloping speed of panic that she had perhaps done something wrong. That this was not how it was to go. Iason would not know any more than she. Perhaps she was broken inside? Perhaps there was something wrong with her? She had heard tales of how wondrous and blissful the act of love was with your husband and this felt, in that moment, neither of those things. Was it because they had acted before they were joined in the eyes of the Gods? Was this punishment for their over-eagerness? Yet, she did not wish to disappoint Iason or panic him into thinking, once again, that she doubted her choice in man.
Pinned to the bed as she was, there was no way for her to back away or retreat from the act - whether she wanted to or not. But, at the same time, within a few moments which felt like lifetimes, the touch of Iason's skin, the smell of his hair, the way in which he kissed her and how his arms curled around her body in a safe and loving embrace… they were all allowing her taut body to relax; to hold upon him tight instead of feeling invaded by him. She raised her knees to either side of Iason's hips and shifted her bottom so that the angle was easier on her back and the movement sent a frisson of delight through her inner muscles that had a moan rising from her throat and hovering on her tongue.
Oh, if only she could get him to move again. That seemed to be the key to finding the pleasure in this...
Reaching up to brush the dark hair from his forehead, Persephone smiled and leant up to kiss his lips with such infinite sweetness that he could not doubt her feelings. In response, her spine flexed and her hips shifted and even that minimal movement had the moan she had held back drift into his mouth.
Yes, movement was definitely the answer…
With a look of curious eagerness on her face, and a confidence that she would never know the origin of, Persephone shifted to move her pelvis up and away from Iason, before pushing it back down, testing her theory. She winced a little as the thrust caused a spark over that singular hurt but also could not deny the delicious sensations it sparked beyond. Her eyes drifted shut as she savoured the feeling and her next smile to the man who hovered above her was one of such decadent delight that he could surely not resist following her lead…
There was no response, and for a horrible moment Iason was afraid he had hurt her beyond repair, that she would shove him away and never ask for him again. He’d nearly made up his mind to break their connection, no matter how his body screamed to continue, when instead she shifted and made the sort of sound he’d been seeking. As her hips shifted again and her expression changed, the man needed little further encouragement as he gave in to the instinct that had been driving him.
Iason had always been a cautious man, one who thought and overthought, considered and reconsidered, but in a few things he was entirely certain. That she could utterly destroy him was clear. He needed her, needed this like he needed breath in his lungs, and all rational thought seemed utterly impossible. With each thrust of his hips he felt both as if he was more whole and falling apart all at once, each movement drew them closer and tore his restraint to shreds. Each time she moved with him his body felt wound tighter and tighter, nerve endings firing until he was all but gasping against her lips as a familiar coil built in the pit of his stomach.
If he’d been thinking he might have been more careful, thought about the consequence of their coupling before wedding. There was no caution in him now, as a rush of euphoria urged him on, losing all track of everything except where their bodies joined, crying out her name as his climax washed over him, hips stuttering a few times more before he collapsed, trying to hold his full weight off of her and trembling as his body and mind tried to process everything all at once. He tried to catch his breath, burrowing once again against her neck and taking comfort from the familiar curve of her body beneath him.
Slowly as he felt a bit more like himself, he smiled and pressed a kiss to her jaw, groaning as he withdrew himself and shifted to his side. He reached for her immediately, as if unable to be parted from the full contact they had just enjoyed.
“I love you.”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
There was no response, and for a horrible moment Iason was afraid he had hurt her beyond repair, that she would shove him away and never ask for him again. He’d nearly made up his mind to break their connection, no matter how his body screamed to continue, when instead she shifted and made the sort of sound he’d been seeking. As her hips shifted again and her expression changed, the man needed little further encouragement as he gave in to the instinct that had been driving him.
Iason had always been a cautious man, one who thought and overthought, considered and reconsidered, but in a few things he was entirely certain. That she could utterly destroy him was clear. He needed her, needed this like he needed breath in his lungs, and all rational thought seemed utterly impossible. With each thrust of his hips he felt both as if he was more whole and falling apart all at once, each movement drew them closer and tore his restraint to shreds. Each time she moved with him his body felt wound tighter and tighter, nerve endings firing until he was all but gasping against her lips as a familiar coil built in the pit of his stomach.
If he’d been thinking he might have been more careful, thought about the consequence of their coupling before wedding. There was no caution in him now, as a rush of euphoria urged him on, losing all track of everything except where their bodies joined, crying out her name as his climax washed over him, hips stuttering a few times more before he collapsed, trying to hold his full weight off of her and trembling as his body and mind tried to process everything all at once. He tried to catch his breath, burrowing once again against her neck and taking comfort from the familiar curve of her body beneath him.
Slowly as he felt a bit more like himself, he smiled and pressed a kiss to her jaw, groaning as he withdrew himself and shifted to his side. He reached for her immediately, as if unable to be parted from the full contact they had just enjoyed.
“I love you.”
There was no response, and for a horrible moment Iason was afraid he had hurt her beyond repair, that she would shove him away and never ask for him again. He’d nearly made up his mind to break their connection, no matter how his body screamed to continue, when instead she shifted and made the sort of sound he’d been seeking. As her hips shifted again and her expression changed, the man needed little further encouragement as he gave in to the instinct that had been driving him.
Iason had always been a cautious man, one who thought and overthought, considered and reconsidered, but in a few things he was entirely certain. That she could utterly destroy him was clear. He needed her, needed this like he needed breath in his lungs, and all rational thought seemed utterly impossible. With each thrust of his hips he felt both as if he was more whole and falling apart all at once, each movement drew them closer and tore his restraint to shreds. Each time she moved with him his body felt wound tighter and tighter, nerve endings firing until he was all but gasping against her lips as a familiar coil built in the pit of his stomach.
If he’d been thinking he might have been more careful, thought about the consequence of their coupling before wedding. There was no caution in him now, as a rush of euphoria urged him on, losing all track of everything except where their bodies joined, crying out her name as his climax washed over him, hips stuttering a few times more before he collapsed, trying to hold his full weight off of her and trembling as his body and mind tried to process everything all at once. He tried to catch his breath, burrowing once again against her neck and taking comfort from the familiar curve of her body beneath him.
Slowly as he felt a bit more like himself, he smiled and pressed a kiss to her jaw, groaning as he withdrew himself and shifted to his side. He reached for her immediately, as if unable to be parted from the full contact they had just enjoyed.