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Post by deacon on Mar 3, 2011 14:44:48 GMT -5
The bond between the dragon and his mate was a powerful, intoxicating thing. The merest of touches from his woman; the light grasp of her delicate fingertips against the rugged width of his shoulders was enough to scorch him to his very foundation; drawing the lava from that deep chasm in his soul and burning down whatever ruins were left of the wall that had once been built around it. But it wasn’t only her fingertips, oh no. Lillie’s body devoured his as if it had been coveting him; perfect, unyielding, and as if she would never let him go. The prophet’s fingertips grasped his shoulders harder as she became the sea that would drown him; rising and falling, crashing waves that he sank into; or plunged upwards toward, but she left the man gasping for air as the moon’s gravity, the woman’s prerogative, pretended to steal the sea away… Growling against her mouth each time she came down, the dragon devoured her lips with an even greater fervor as his hands came up to clutch her back, pulling her lithe frame against him; reveling in the feel of her cool skin against his own balmy chest, devouring her kiss the same way as her body was overwhelming his. Consumed by her fire, as well as the one growing within him, Deacon let his head fall back on his neck and a heady moan escaped his panting, parted lips as she broken the vow of their lips to confess her devotion. Those words were just as intoxicating to the male as the movements astride him were. Just as enthralling as the sensation of her mouth against his knuckles and rough fingertips. The dragon gave his intense cobalt eyes back to the woman as soon as the words had left her rose petal mouth, and the palm against his heart went through the tawny skin; straight to the fiercely pounding muscle. Her touch was magic. It soothed him; sang to him, calmed the beast that howled and clawed inside so it could be set free. And it was free. Lillie not only loved him with her body, Deacon could feel the tangible bond between their spirits as much as the corporal one. She claimed him with her body, and surrounded him with a love so profound; he wore it like a suit of armor. That’s how powerful her adoration was to him. Lillie was so much his equal it wasn’t even funny. Not that the dragon laughed much anyway. While he was intoxicated by the flood of her movements, the fragile human actually used his distraction as a chance to raise the topic of her weapons training once more. The dragon’s eyes had slide closed but now flew open; stormy now as his lust and worship had darkened them. A guttural growl was torn from his throat as he grasped the woman by the rear and flipped her easily so that he dominated their positions; a wayward smile turning up the corners of his mouth. “You really have gone mad, woman.” Deacon rasped, and began a slow, teasing dance with his body like she had done to him. “You are so eager to learn to fight you would use your body as a weapon against -me- in order to attain training?” He chuckled huskily and shook his head, dipping his lips to hers just before letting them whisper to the soft skin of her neck just below her earlobe. “Happy is a word meant for pixies and unicorns, lover. A dragon is exultant; soaring…stroke his ego with a little more purpose you shall find yours accomplished.” And with that he showed her his purpose with a thrust that was more deliberate; yet still loving. A shift that would make her toes curl like the damp hair at the nape of her neck. The hair that he breathed against now; drinking in the feel and taste of her with the hunger that only a dragon could suffer. ☁ ϟ ☁ ϟ ☁ ☁ ϟ ☁ ϟ ☁ Notes: omnomnomnom!
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Post by lillie on Mar 6, 2011 23:41:26 GMT -5
It took a conscious effort on her part, but Lillie was able to keep the slow, steady rhythm meant to tantalize and tease. Swiveling her hips and clenching muscles currently singing her lover’s praises, she smiled against his lips at every growl. The sounds made a shiver of delight run down her spine, and female pride curl in her chest. It was a drug; the knowledge that she was the only woman, now and in the past, who got to see the normally stoic dragon so relaxed.
He smiled when he was with her; he laughed and played and shared his pain and joy with her. There were no secrets between them and nothing was kept back. They were two halves to one person, or so it seemed, and not for the first time, Lillie thanked Whoever was watching them for sending him to her a second time. Without him, she knew that she’d be searching for this…beautiful something for the rest of her life.
For her, there was no one else. Without Deacon and their child in her life, she would have lived, content yet alone. It was an almost ironic thought; she, the woman who dreamt of a scarred warrior, would never have known that he was hers. If not for Ilani’s painting, she would probably have never run into him, thus setting off the chain of events that had led her to where she was today. Had the psychic had some part in it? Had one of her ‘ghost friends’ told her to request such a painting from the reclusive Lillie Galleau? In any case, Fate and undead intervention had led her to her true love, and she was grateful to it.
…And yet, Fate also promised to deliver another, darker reminder of their past together. The thought of the witch had her gripping her lover a bit tighter around the neck, and her lips descend harder onto his. She wasn’t by nature a very violent person…but she would fight to protect her family. She didn’t know what Madalein was like when that was her name, but Lillie would not let her man return to that evil.
A laugh escaped her as she found herself flying backwards, the movement scattering those dark thoughts and bringing her back to the present. Winding her legs around his hips, she arched her back into him with a breathy moan, a smile sliding onto her lips. ”A woman’s gotta do…what she’s gotta do,” She replied, a bit breathlessly. Cupping his cheeks, she kissed him again, before letting her head fall to the side, giving him more access to her neck. ”And what’s that? Stroking your ego is all it takes? Damn…if only you’d told me that before!”
Giving his shoulder a teasing nip, she let her hands wander over the broad expanse of his back. She ran her fingers over the bumpy ridges of scars; she’d traced each and every one of them with her lips. He was just so damn beautiful; scarred to perfection.
In tandem, like a dance, she moved against him, meeting every thrust with a parry of her own. She wanted to say more; to continue to tease and taunt until that coveted growl sounded yet again, but words failed her as pleasure threatened to toss her over the edge. Her breath came out in short gasps and she whispered his name, her eyes squeezing shut.
Then, the world exploded and sunshine spread throughout her body until she thought she’d burn. Writhing beneath him, she buried her face in the crook of his neck and shouted a muffled, garbled praise. Trembling with the force of it, she clung to his shoulders and held him close.
NOTES: <3 TAGS: Deacon WORDS: enough ;3 TEMPLATE BY HAY SHAY ! AT CAUTION AND LYRICS BY KESHA [/font][/center]
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Post by deacon on Mar 9, 2011 16:10:32 GMT -5
Every place that Lillie’s fingertips touched Deacon left an invisible tattoo across his tawny, scarred skin. The imperceptible ink did not merely stain the skin, but penetrated deeper than that; to his very core; marking him as hers and only hers. And the quiet intakes of air and the breathless little moans she loosed from her throat marked him just as deeply. The dragon found the willpower to continue teasing was fading quickly just like the light outside as the sun disappeared behind newly formed storm clouds. The tempest that was brewing in those darkening, ominous heavens was the direct result of the pressure building within -him- and he found the tightness with which his body craved hers was bordering on near pain. At her winded, wanting response to his suggestion a throaty chuckle escaped the shifter, and he let the laughter tickle her porcelain skin as he moved his lips back up the column of her throat and then silenced her words by slanting them over her mouth. His proposal had been a fictitious one meant to coax her into bodily surrender (not that she ever really needed coaxing), though the thought behind it was grave, and one that the dragon knew soon he would have to concede to or risk leaving her unprepared. His flower was undeniably a woman strong of mind and spirit, but weak in the ways of physical force. Carrying his childe, she was even weaker still. Though there had been no hide or hair seen of the sorceress that had been hunting them, she was out there still; almost certainly biding her time until she could come across Lillie alone and unprotected. Deacon would not allow that to happen. The dragon was sure the woman would tire of his constant attention eventually, but to leave her side would be parting from his own soul. He would never again allow his heart to be ripped from his chest, for loosing her would mean that very thing. There was no safer place for his woman than by his side, and if he could not be there to shield her the shifter would ensure that someone worthy would be; a brother in arms, one of her siblings, someone reliable. Putting a weapon in the fragile prophet’s hands was not something he wanted to do, but it was necessary. Deacon just hoped it didn’t compel her to think she -his- protector. The woman was as impossible as she was beautiful, and there had been more than one instance the shifter had had to leave her in the hands of her friend Lani so that he could go out and hunt without Lillie falling into step behind him. Such thoughts were ever present in the back of the dragon’s mind but once Lillie invited him deeper with arching movements below, Deacon he found he could deny her nothing. He worshipped her like he had never touched her before; as if -he- was a man untouched; intense, curious, gentle, patient, but with the fierce potency of the mythical creature that live within him. The sky grew dark and the air humid. Black-grey clouds hugged the sun and stole all light from the day as the tempest upwards grew in unison with the squall building inside the dragon. A stray tear fell from the heavens and pinged on the window pane as Deacon let out a quiet moan; so close to the hurricane and his mate had been riding the surging waves of rapture towards. Finally, and with a turbulent howl that carried outside the window where the thunder was shaking the ground, Deacon’s body wept along with the clouds. He collapsed atop her panting, sliding over so that he wouldn’t crush her with his lead weight. She was trembling, and so was he, so the dragon rolled to his side and collected her in his arms until they both rode out the effects of such intense corporal adoration. By the time the storm clouds had drifted away and had let the sun free of its hazy prison, Deacon was able to speak again, still holding Lillie in his arms. He lowered his lips to the crown of her head and then smiled despite himself, thinking back on discussions previous to the love-making. “I think my ego has been thoroughly stroked, Prophet.” Deacon rumbled, and a light laughter shook his chest. “I praise you. The stroking was such that now the dragon needs feeding. Perhaps I -could- put a weapon in your hand. A butter knife. Does the champion of ego fondling desire peanut butter and jelly or turkey and ham?” ☁ ϟ ☁ ϟ ☁ ☁ ϟ ☁ ϟ ☁ Notes: omnomnomnom!
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Post by lillie on Mar 12, 2011 21:12:30 GMT -5
Good Lord, there was definitely something to be said about having a dragon for a lover. Lillie turned her face into the tawny expanse of his neck and placed a loving kiss there, her lips curving into a satisfied smile. Her body felt both relaxed and sore, and she loved every minute of it. It was obvious in the way that he held her sometimes, that he was trying to be careful with her; that he was afraid that his inner beast would harm her in some way…but she never did believe that. Hell, she’d seen his dragon come out many times, and it had never threatened her. It had become a mental challenge of hers; to see how much she could make him lose control.
So far, she knew she’d managed to get past the halfway point, as a lazy stretch informed her. What would he be like if she got him to let go completely? She practically shivered at the thought.
When he started to speak, she moved her head down to his chest and enjoying the low rumble. God, but he had such a devilish voice; so rough and deep, yet completely sensual. If her stomach hadn’t started to comment on how much it would love either sandwich, she would have given into the sudden urge to roll on top of him and see how far she could push that Control O-Meter.
Ah, the libido of a pregnant woman. It was both a hindrance and…quite the enjoyable surprise. Though, when she got to the ‘pickles and ice cream’ phase, she swore to have Deacon knock her upside the head for a good measure.
Mmm…pickles. She did love those half sour Dill pi—OH NO, IT WAS STARTING!
Burying her face in the dragon’s chest, she let loose an amused laugh. Okay, so even though she was the reincarnation of a Celtic woman, engaged to a dragon shifter, and having a half human, half dragon baby, she was still crazy. Always good to know! With one last snort, she finally lifted her head and pillowed her chin on his chest.
Wrinkling her nose, she couldn’t help but tease him, a devilish glint coming into her eyes. ”Is that all that’s been stroked? Drat, I really have to work on my technique.” Grinning at the sound of his laughter, she leaned forward and placed a kiss on his chin before rolling off him. She stretched, a wide yawn escaping her.
”Ooh, that was low,” She said, laughing through yet another yawn. Slowly pushing herself up, she peered over the bed for what was left of her nightgown. ”Hardy har. You’re funny, Doobie; you know that? Such a comedian. For that, I demand peanut butter and turkey. Keep pushing me, and I’ll take the ham, too.”
With a triumphant sound, she snagged her gown and tugged it over her head. Sliding her feet into the fuzzy slippers standing guard at the side of the bed, she stood, then frowned down at her front. Darnnit, when had those buttons popped off? Giving her mate an ‘evil’ look over her shoulder, she tucked the edges closed and went to saunter over to the bathroom.
”Go make me a sammich, Mr. Comedian. Maybe after, we could go to The Pit?” Pitching her voice over the sounds of the sink, she glanced at the door over her shoulder. ”Once you have your strength back, that is. She mentioned something about having some new information about You Know Who.”
((Heeeey, boo. So I figured with this one, you could fast forward 'em to The Pit, or I could do it in my next post. I didn't have anybody make up an actual board for it yet, so we can either continue here, or make a new thread in the Nightclubs section. Lemme knowwww watchoo think. <3 ))
NOTES: <3 TAGS: Deacon WORDS: enough ;3 TEMPLATE BY HAY SHAY ! AT CAUTION AND LYRICS BY KESHA [/font][/center]
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