crossmyheartandhope | Overflow post

[She shivers as well, her shirt long gone itchy against her skin. Her mouth continues, however, suckling chilly little marks over the soft skin of his neck and back up to behind his ear. Her touch begins to travel as well, cold spots trailing from the crown of his head down his back to the tips of his wings, obviously present but light as air]

[His hands drift down, and down, over her back - find the hem of her shirt and then drift upward again, running along bare skin, some odd mix of two-soft feathers (slightly damp on one side now) and too-sharp talons, though he is being very careful with the claws[

[He groans, softly, at the feel of her mouth, and at the motion of her hands, soft and chill and teasing]

[She does not seem to care if he's being careful or not, goosebumps prickling at the feel of talon and feather alike. Her breath goes heavy against his skin, though the ghostly touch doesn't slow.

It doesn't speed up, either, deliberately tracing over the delicate bones of each wing, gently sweeping down each feather in sequence until meeting at the middle of his back, at the bases of his wings.]

[The cooldown is long since past, and with her position, it's easy to feel the effect she's having on him - the proof of his interest obvious through his pants, but also the way he presses into the contact, arches and shivers, when her fingers continue that slow exploration]

[The hands under her shirt are restless, now, roaming like they're trying to take everything in all at once]

[Rucked up past shirt and undershirt there's nothing underneath, just a few light scars over the expanse of cool skin. She presses into the touch, humming into the contact as she sucks a little more firmly at his neck.

She continues over his back as well, cold pressing gentle lines down his back and to the base of his tail even as there's a soft pressure at the base of each wing, pressing into the firm muscle there. But she's soft and yielding against him, hitching in closer despite herself]

[He makes a soft sound, unable to quite bite it down - shifts, and shifts again, unconsciously trying to press into the soft touch of her hands, the not-quite enough pressure of her settled there in his lap]

[His hands keep moving, as though unable to stop - the motion ceaseless, almost greedy, trying to take in everything there is to feel at once]

[Kisses back up to his mouth this time, humming into the warmth of his lips and the taste of her on them. Even as the light, chill pressure ruffles the feathers up his legs, her hands trail down to his rear and sink in, urging him up into her more squarely]

[This time, the sound that leaves him is closer to a whimper. The restless shifting of his hips, those tiny circles, gives way to something more urgent as he presses up harder in response to her coaxing]

[The kiss is eager, almost needy; he licks into her mouth like he needs it to breathe, nipping at her lower lip with his teeth]

[The press of him against her--the heat of his tongue and the tug of his lips, and she whines herself as she rises to meet his enthusiasm--hitching into the shift of his hips and suckling at his tongue. The cold spots continue to run down his calves and up his thighs, then back up his back and wings again. Her hands stay where they are, keeping him fitted tight against her]

[This time, the sound that leaves him is a full-on moan, long and low and wavering. He shudders against her - presses up into her, hips working feverishly for more friction]

[Under her shirt, his hands continue their journey, taking in chill lines of smooth skin and the small ridges of scars, one of them drifting around to the front, mindful of the claws, to trace the shape of her through the bra]

[A definite whimper at the pinpoint trace of his talon around her breast--at the hot, insistent weight of him against her--at the vibration of his chest as he groans--and she flushes bright with arousal. It's hard to think about anything other than getting more of all of those things, and her fingers run restlessly up and over the gentle curve where his tailfeathers meet his spine.

Ghostly touch skims over the rest of him too, cool and indeterminate--the nape of his neck, the tips of his ears, the pinions of his wings and the soft, pale skin beneath.]

[He out and out whines, at her fingers tracing the place where the tailfeathers meet the spine - has to break the kiss just to manage a few desperate, gasping breaths]

[The motion of his hips is more erratic now, all ceaseless motion as he tries to get closer, as he presses for more. The hand on the breast slips down the cup of the bra, careful; there's the soft brush of feathers over the nipple, and the soft prick of talons, very light, further from the center]

[She shudders out a long breath and presses eagerly into his hot hand, talons be damned. Or don't--the sharpness of the claws only enhances the softness over the sensitive nub, and she rocks forward into him, eager.

The tremble of her hands doesn't stop them from squeezing everywhere from lower back to thighs and everyplace inbetween, chasing after every groan or grunt she can milk from him. Her kisses skim over his face and down his jaw, as coordinating breath is far too difficult by this point]

[It's not hard to coax noises from him, at this point; he's making soft sounds near constantly, small whimpers that come with his breath]

[The hand on her breast squeezes, softly, feathers whisper-smooth across her skin. His hips rub up against her with an air of desperation, chasing something that's just out of reach]

X-Xia. G-god, I -

[His voice breaks on a gasp, before he can finish that sentence]

[For a moment, she thinks of slowing down--of pulling away completely, to see the judder of his hips against nothing and hear the desperation in his voice. But just that thought added to the shudder in his muscles and the squeeze of his hand and his voice calling her name like that is enough to prompt a matching groan, and she grinds hard into the hot throb in his shorts. Her hands sink into his hips for balance and just to keep touching him, cold and insistent over his thighs and glutes and the base of his tail, letting his breathless sounds be her guide.]

[That's all it takes; his breath catches in his throat, and the sound that leaves him is low and soft and keening]

[The talons on her back forget to be careful, digging in for something to hold onto as the pleasure ratchets up, and up, and finally tips over into a glorious freefall]

[His eyes squeeze closed; the motion of his hips stutters into something that can't really be counted as a rhythm. He manages her name, or at least a breathless approximation, lost for an endless few seconds to pure sensation]

[Her own voice begins to rise, tensing at the feeling of him pressing sharp into her back and blunt between her legs.

Somehow she manages to pull back enough to catch the look on his face as he comes, or at least the approximation of such; without her glasses he's just the dark smudge of eyelashes against pink skin and pink mouth, head thrown back and wings flared out and her name on his lips and with a whimper she shudders up and up and up into him, clutching tight as she follows him to orgasm]

[He shifts and shudders his way through it, hips keeping up a jerky not-quite-rhythm as he slowly comes down again, lax and pliant against her, forehead coming to rest in the crook of her shoulder]

[For a long moment he just breathes, drifting in the feel of her against him, the soft brush of her hair on his cheek and the weight of her arms around him. It takes a moment before he presses a kiss to her collar bone, feather-soft]

[She just bites her lip as he moves, rolling into him with each lingering twitch against her, slow and intense. At length she settles in against him, a counterbalance.

Her arms stay looped around him, and she noses in, brushing a sloppier kiss against his temple and ear--the closest of him she can reach at present]

[His hands leave their spots to move downward, tracing over her hips, soft and soothing. He presses another kiss to her collar bone, just as gentle as before]

[And for a long time, he just stays tucked up against her and breathes, still trembling a little in the aftermath, nuzzling into the curve of her neck]

[Her hand trails slow over his back once she thinks to move, and she rubs her face into his hair, ruffling it with a snort of cool air. Other than that, she's happy to just lean there with him, breath and posture languid.

At length the fairy fire around them gentles and lowers, more a drowsy, private sort of intimacy than the earlier performance. Her voice is the same, low and gravelly and sated]

...Wanna nest?

[Another kiss, just as soft as the others]

...yeah. That sounds good.

[This gets a voiced little sigh, and she drifts into him a little, the feeling of occupying a little of his space (hopefully pleasantly) tingly]

...You gotta fly yourself, though. I can only take souls.

...ah. Yeah.

[It takes him a second, to extricate himself and get back to his feet; when he does, his knees are a little wobbly, but he reaches out a hand to her]

[She is easy to pull up after; lighter than air, even. Her body's a little translucent, though her grip on his hand stays strong enough.

Luckily the nest isn't that far away, and parting the blankets so they can more easily settle inside is something ghost powers can handle.]

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