Who

G'tan, Erissa

What

Refreshed and soaking wet, G'tan lays out a surprisingly comfortable camp and playfulness turns into romance.

Sexual themes

When

Continued from Getaway 2 - Warm Waters.

Where

White Sands Beach, Northern Continent

OOC Date

 

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White Sands Beach

From high above, the island is a unique shape - a small, thin crescent sitting deep in the embrace of a thicker, larger one, green within a limning of white sand surrounded by sapphire waves. The smaller crescent is the focus, zoomed in on - two curving arms of dark stone and sparse trees with white, sandy shores, embracing a small cove of turquoise water. At the inner cusp, the pale beach stretches deep, flanked by more dark stone and boulders before the jungle itself creates the verdant backdrop. One towering sea stack creates a focal point, mossy and pocked with the erosion of water and time - a lone stone sentinel keeping watch over the western shoreline.


Characters


Log

(Continued from Getaway 2 - Warm Waters)

G’tan weathers the punch to his chest with a light grunt, his grin turning rather wolfish for a good moment. Oh, he won’t tease her for the squeal - not right now; he thinks its adorable and that she’d probably bristle at him for saying so. Fun as it would be to tease her that way…that’s not what he’s after right now.

Faded daylight gives way to the flicker of firelight the further out of the water they go, the circle of yellow-orange light reaching a good distance around the pit full of burning logs now bearing a healthy bed of embers after the amount of time they’ve spent out in the water. Progress is a little slower than it might otherwise be, however, with the extra concentration he has to put in past the kisses and touches she keeps dealing him.

Then they’re finally there, and he sets her down again, another kiss given deeply in repayment for all she’d just been doing before he steps back a little and smirks at her. “Depends on how hungry you are,” he replies with a waggle of brows before tugging her hand to get her to follow him over to the arrangement of various bags and bundles and such sitting near the broad log that lies several strides from the fire. “Just gotta get all this grouped together for easier access,” he says, already dragging a few bags closer together - clothing and other necessities, mostly. He gestures for her to have at it, if she wishes. A sack made of a burlap-like material is grabbed up and handed off to Erissa with an eager smile. “Pull what you like out of there, if you want to right now. I wasn’t planning on hunting when we first got here, so…” Food, ready to go. Good bread, good cheese - probably some of Sienna’s - good wine, fruit, jerked meat, several different sorts of pastries. He covered all the bases, he hopes.

Then he goes about pulling some large, somewhat heavy bundles bound by thick leather ties over in front of the log, between it and the fire. Freeing the contents, it becomes plain that they’re an assemblage of well-cured and treated furs - many of them feline, and a few others. These he begins to lay out on the sand, layer upon layer within a space roughly the size of a full-sized bed - perhaps slightly larger - until one bundle is spend on the matter. He drops down onto the pile heavily, all the way onto his back, makes a bit of a face, and gets up again, unbinding another bundle and adding a few more layers. Satisfied with that, he digs deeper into his current bundle and pulls out some things rather less rough-looking - blankets, woven and relatively thick; it doesn’t stay warm on the beach at night, after all. He spreads a few of those out, then wraps the rest up loosely and sets them near the log. Finally, he makes one last return to the pile of stuff, returning with a couple of loosely bound rolls of smaller furs and fabric; these stay bound and are dropped at the head of the organized pile of fabric and fur, pummeled into submission a bit, and straightened.

All that done, G’tan flops down one more time, setting his head on one of the beaten-up rolls and stretching out with a grunt of satisfaction, lacing his fingers behind his head and crossing his ankles as he cranes his neck to see Erissa. “There,” he announces with another of his crooked smirks and a wink. “Way better than a bedroll.” Now he just has to decide if he’s going to get up again and go after some of what’s in the sack he handed off to Erissa.


The slower he goes the better as far as Erissa is concerned, but soon enough their progress brings them to where the beginnings of their camp await. The fire casts a warm light over everything, the small dancing flames lulling the eye like a siren’s call does the ear. Then he’s setting her down and an immediate sense of loss is mitigated by the lingering kiss he gives her instead. That cocky waggle of brow has her smiling for how quickly it’s become endearing and she gladly follows the tug of his hand when it enfolds hers.

Watching curiously as he begins to organize the bundles she takes the one he gives her without a word until she opens the top and peers inside. Then a rolling drawl that’s saved from being a more embarrassing squeal only by it’s lower register greets the sight of the food G’tan brought along.

“Aw shells!” she exclaims. “Whatever’s in here smells good.” As if on cue her stomach rumbles, complaining loudly for being neglected while she romped around in the ocean. Grinning wryly she turns to where the logs are sitting around the fire and chooses one with a relatively good top for setting both her rump and some of the foodstuffs. Distracted for several minutes as she carefully goes through what is in the sack she makes various appreciative exclamations on his choices and selections - all to the good, of course. Then the wine is found and with a cheer she holds it up and shoots him a smile. Oh yes, definitely good choices. Once the contents have been perused she realizes what G’tan is doing and, not wanting to eat without him, chooses a small wedge of cheese to nibble on while she watches.

The process quickly becomes fascinating, her lips drifting into an amused little grin as he goes through such elaborate lengths to make the perfect bed on the packed foundation of sand. When at last he drops pillows into place she is truly impressed and can’t resist a spontaneous cheer and salute with the last bite of her cheese. When he plops himself down and looks to her she gathers up the few things she’d actually pulled out, along with the sack of food itself, and walks over to where he is. Sitting down beside him she folds her legs in front of her and sets the sack down between them. At that grin and wink she playfully nudges his ribs with her foot, canting a raised brow look of her own.

“Worthy of a queen’s weyr!” she declares. Pausing a moment to give him a gauging look, she asks, “Just how long have you been planning this?”


G’tan’s eyebrows hike as he watches Erissa gather up the food and come over to him, sitting up just enough to brace on his elbows while doing so. “Awww, you didn’t have to; I coulda gotten my ass up and come over there,” he says, tracing a finger along her thigh and letting it glance off her knee before taking the nudge to his ribs with a low laugh and drawing himself up to sitting.

“Planning coming back here?” he questions, pulling the sack of food a little closer and plucking out roll and a bit of soft cheese that needs eating fairly quickly. “Since I came to Igen, practically.” He tears the roll in half, reaching for one of his nearby satchels of necessities and producing one of his belt knives, which he uses to spread cheese on both halves. “Planning on bringing you with me, hopefully?” He passes one half to her with a smirk. “Months.”

He bites into his own bit of roll, mostly finishing it before speaking again and reaching for the wine. There happen to be a couple of wooden cups in the same satchel he’d just been into; he twists about again, pulling them out before tying the satchel shut and reaching around behind Erissa to shove it off to the side, out of the sleeping space.

Abruptly, he has a sudden realization, a hand coming down onto the trunks clinging to his thigh with a light slap. “Shit!” he exclaims under his breath, looking down and shifting his seat a bit…before relaxing. “Oh no. We’re good.” They’re sitting on one of the blankets rather than the furs - one of the thick ones, which he has another of. It can just be set aside when necessary. “Sorry,” he says looking back to Erissa with a somewhat sheepish, self-amused look. “Still wet.” The both of them. Fortunate blanket placement to the rescue!


Erissa only crooks a secret little smile when he questions her arrival, pretending to ignore that wandering touch. Truthfully though, she couldn’t wait to get close to him again, noting with amorous interest how the firelight plays off muscle and bone, how the shadows hug his fine physique, how his head tilts when he laughs and tiny crinkles gather at the corner of his eyes when he smiles. It amazes her how the details never seem to end. Hadn’t she seen him on a regular basis for turns at Ista, and then frequently once he joined her wing at Igen? How could she never have noticed all this stuff? Now they seem to line up in an endless array of appealing characteristics that hold her attention and deepen attraction.

Good Faranth, he even has good manners! As he hands over half of the buttered roll she takes it with another little smile. His answer to her question, however, has that smile melding into an open-mouthed little gasp, dark blue hues searching his face a moment as if gauging whether he’s joking or serious. Months?? That would be well before he knew about her addiction and helped her through the worst of the withdrawals. A swell of amazement has her jaw clamping shut. He’d stayed. Even after all that. And he still wanted to be with her.

She’s still pondering the ramifications of that when he notices their clothes and reacts. It takes a moment for her thoughts to catch up to what he’s saying and when they do she too exclaims dismay and starts to get up, making it to her knees before he proclaims the situation ok.

“Are you sure?” she asks, glancing about at the wonderful bed he’d created. “Should we change?”


G’tan has always been quick to notice a pretty face - hence a certain reputation trailing him at Ista - and almost as quick to allow it to slip from his mind once the fun had ended. Nothing would ever last terribly long with him, and why should it have? He was content to just enjoy himself with whomever he pleased…but in recent Turns started to wonder if he shouldn’t stop playing around for a change. It’s a wonder that happened to line up with the start of the Pass, in fact. Funny how Thread seemed to impact people in interesting ways like that.

The difference with Erissa is that she was always around at Ista - and he was always aware of the fact. As he’d told her, she’d been untouchable to him, particularly when it seemed things were serious with Cha’el. Maybe it was partially Cha’el’s fault that he’d taken it into his head to let himself actually get interested when he’d arrived at Igen. Amazing what can be learned and inspired while talking over drinks.

He may have been an arrogant jerk for quite a long time, but he did learn manners and even put them to good use. They can be an integral part of charm, after all. But for him, they haven’t been that for a good several Turns.

At her reaction to his answer, he just smiles again. At first, the thought had just been an entertaining idea. Eventually it grew to more than that, the night spent together sealing it and everything after that making it a necessity, in his mind. There’s been quite the build-up, on his end!

Her question after his note of the dampness issue actually seems to stump him a little, and he shrugs, reaching up to rub his neck a bit. “Well…” he drawls, looking a bit up at her since that’s the vantage he has now that she’s on her knees, “…we could. Though I’m thinking it might not matter much pretty soon.” Said with a mostly straight face; it’s his eyes that give his intent away. No reason not to be honest about where his head is, after all.


Erissa is normally pretty blunt herself, internal filters as non-functional verbally as physically. It was a default that continually seemed to get her in trouble yet she made no effort to change, oblivious to the personal boundries she often crossed. Snug bomb someone like Maryam who was culturally ingrained to avoid physical contact? Only natural! Smack someone across the face like K’vvan who was fanatical about the slightest touch? He deserved it!

But when G’tan throws that same bluntness back at her the bluerider is stunned for a few seconds, pale lashes fluttering a few times as if re-running what he said in her mind to make sure she heard it correctly. One glance at the look on his face and any doubt goes out the window.

“What a cocky bastard!” she blurts, launching from her sitting position to give his chest a good shove with both palms. Unless he stops her she shimmies closer and throws one leg over his waist, planting her knee on the other side. “Think you can just wine and dine me then get me in bed, eh?” Straddling his hips she pointedly sits, thoroughly drenched shorts squishing against his while keeping palms braced on his chest. “Maybe I’ll just sit on YOU, and then only YOUR side of this lovely bed will be cold and wet.” Despite her quick actions and firm words there’s an obvious undercurrent of amusement in her tone and expression, pale brows arching with a what-are-you-gonna-do-about-it kind of challenging cast.


And just like that, any thought about eating more evaporates. There’s no way G’tan would even think about stopping her, and so finds himself shoved again, straddled and sat upon. As if it’s a bad thing. He grins shamelessly, falling back to brace on his elbows with a light oof and laughing a bit. “Awwww,” he drawls as if he’s been truly wounded. “I try being honest and you call me cocky? Damn!” He deliberately shifts his shoulders so that her hands slip a bit, then laces his fingers over his stomach right in front of where she’s sitting. Trying to pretend that this particular contact between their damply-clothed bodies isn’t having an effect on him.

“Okay, fine, “ he pronounces finally, his tone beginning to go husky by simple virtue of the position they’re in. “You can just sit there and try to make me soak in…and then you can fall asleep eventually and I’ll just steal your side.” So there! Another incorrigible waggle of brows follows. “Or…” He releases his fingers, shifting subtly beneath her so that his hands can slip over to her knees, his thumbs stroking lazily over the skin just above them. “…We can go change, if you’d rather. Or…”

Another ‘or’, this one marked by him slowly sitting up against her hands, letting his palms rise to her waist as his smile warms and his eyes come more on level with hers. “…We can just forget about wet clothes and ribbing each other…and focus on what’s right in front of us right now.”


Erissa isn’t unaware of the effect their positioning is having on him, the clinging dampness of both their clothes conveying contours perfectly. Though unintentional at the time, her choice of adjectives was fitting, it seems.

“Oh, you think so, hm?” she muses, pale brows rising at his threat. A more witty comeback proves elusive, lost in the distractingly sexy drawl of his lowered tone. When his wandering touch sets off a series of sizzling sparklers beneath her skin she tilts her head and straightens her spine, feigning a defensive pose that’s a hundred percent show.

Then he starts listing options and sits up, that slow purposeful movement and all that comes with it exuding enough sexual intensity to make a glowing queen sing. Letting her hands drift downward from his upper chest fingertips roll in slow lazy circles that eventually converge at his navel, dark blue gaze lowering to follow their path.

“So many options,” she sighs as if there is anything but one clear choice.


By now, G’tan is well aware of the fact that he can distract Erissa quite effectively…though he does try not to actually lord it over her. Much. It’s a useful thing when he’s teasing her, but otherwise, it’s something he values quite a bit and aims not to abuse.

He gives a tiny self-assured nod at her questioning musing, his smile only curling all the more impishly at her affected posture of defense. His own posture, however, becomes difficult to maintain as her fingers trace down him, eliciting a deep sigh of his own as he steadies out a sudden hitch in his breathing. He sits up further, leaning into her touch and tilting his head as he presses closer. “If you can think of any others,” he half-whispers, feathering his lips against her neck as his hands move around to her back, “I’m open to hearing them.”

Except he finds a new spot to place another kiss…and another…and doesn’t seem keen on stopping.


Oh the neck. Why does he keep going for the neck? Those soft touches might as well be packed in explosives for the firing of nerves that go shooting down her spine. Shifting reflexively in her seat doesn’t help either - that only manages to emphasize yet another impressive part of his anatomy. Suddenly finding it harder to catch her breath she tries to concentrate on some exploring of her own and hands slide to his sides as he leans closer, palms noting the chiseled cut of muscular abs.

Something tickles the back of her mind; a stray idea struggling to get attention amidst the roaring fire of those relentless kisses he insists on delivering. Her head tilts to aid their progress, the sweep of over-long layers having dried enough to fall partially across her view. If only she could….

Ah! There it is! Pulling hard on deep reserves she puts a small amount of pressure against his torso and leans slightly back just enough so she can see his face. It’s a risky move as one glimpse of those smoke-filled blues and thoroughly kissable lips and she’s ready to launch into that earlier challenge of his right now. So instead she quickly lifts a hand and sets it along his jaw, fingers lightly spreading to graze his cheek and the edge of his mouth. Shards, his mouth….. Concentrate!

“I do have an idea, actually,” she manages to say in a thick whisper.


That reaction is precisely why the neck. At the exploration from Erissa’s hands that follows, G’tan slows his attentions a bit, only to allow them to linger more. That reflexive shift spurs his hands to slip further around her, nearly a full embrace that allows him to continue on easier…but then she’s pulling back, and he catches his breath, watching her intently as he tries to discern what she’s doing. He nuzzles into the hand she brings to his face, his smile tilting subtly at her words. “What?” he questions, turning his head a little to try snagging one of her fingertips with his lips. Otherwise, he’s listening. Really.


G’tan does NOT make this easy! His nibbling response nearly undoes all her progress in one fell swoop as she lets him catch one fingertip and traces the tantalizing curve of his lips with the others. Mentally grabbing ahold of her idea and slinging it forward she manages to draw back again from the temptation he presents. Reclaiming her finger she holds it up in a gesture of patience, pretty features falling into a cast of mischief he may or may not want to be wary of.

Without further explanation she suddenly tilts and leans as far as she can to one side without losing contact with him, stretching so far that only one foot is left at his far hip when she’s fully extended. Reaching for the satchel that contains the food she pulls it closer, scooting back to her previous position with it in tow. Resuming her seat straddled across his hips doesn’t come without a cost and she bites down on her bottom lip to keep focused.

Food! Yes, that’s what she wants. Think. Food. Opening the parcel she reaches inside and rummages about briefly, coming out with another of those soft cheese wedges and sliding a few glances to check his reaction as she does so. Breaking off a bite-size piece she lifts it to his mouth.

“Eat,” she orders, obviously planning on feeding him herself. But then her true motive comes to light in the tug of a saucy grin. “You’re gonna need the energy.”


Success! G’tan chuckles softly, almost inaudibly, when he’s able get that single fingertip…and then watches curiously as Erissa pulls it away to make that gesture for patience at him. That mischievous look garners a slowly growing smirk and raise of eyebrow. What is she up to?

When she leans away to go after the sack of food, the other eyebrow joins in, and he fights off the urge to chase a hand up the leg she keeps more or less stretched across him, opting to just close a slightly steadying hand around her ankle and keep watching her instead. When she returns to her place on his lap, that bitten lip is quite pointedly countered by a clenched jaw, restraint evident for a moment until he’s distracted by her rummaging. A grin slowly spreads across his face upon realizing what she’s about, and he braces on his palms as he leans back slightly.

That grin turns just as saucy as hers at her words. “Yes, ma’am,” he purrs in counter, keeping his eyes fixed on Erissa’s even as he dips his chin a little to catch the bit of cheese she’s holding out to him in his teeth. He toys with the idea of nipping her finger, since it’s there… but decides to forego that for the moment. This is something new; the game of it, leading up to things to come, is exciting for him. It warms his blood further, speeds his heart little by little along with the contact they share, sends an ardor-laced languor into his movements that is likely quite evident in his gaze by now.

“But what about you?” he questions once he’s done with what she’s given him, one hand inching toward the satchel as well. “You’re gonna let me return the favor, right? Wouldn’t want to give me an unfair advantage, after all.”


Yes, ma’am. That has a nice ring to it. Erissa can’t take her eyes off his mouth as he takes the cheese from her fingertips, feeling her pulse quicken as his lips close back over it and he starts to chew. Only then do dark blue hues smoked through with firelit highlights rise to catch the echoing intensity in his, earning the bronzerider another of those caught-lip smiles. His counter offer has her grunting an amused chuckle and arching pale brows even as she pulls the satchel more within his reach, doing her best to use a playful tone to hide the way every shift in movement emphasizes their position and enflames a heat that is becoming more demanding by the minute.

“Absolutely!” she responds with conviction, even lifting her chin slightly to tease, “I plan on giving you a run for your marks, flyboy.”


Where Erissa hides what’s happening behind a playful tone, G’tan does the same by deliberately being still for a few seconds before making any other moves, honing in on keeping his breathing steady. It isn’t easy in the least. Only once he has his fingers curled around the edge of the bag does he make another movement of note, sitting up further again in order to better get at what’s within.

Her words only broaden that incorrigible grin of his as he searches about for something to give in turn…ah. There we go. He feels out the knife he’d left in there as well, pulling it out along with a small, firm-fleshed fruit with a golden-red skin and white meat to it, once it’s cut into. He picks off a wedge of it, setting the knife aside and then catching her chin with a thumb and forefinger, his eyes dancing impishly at her. “I’d expect nothing less,” he returns, his hand dropping away along her arm only to be replaced by the other, holding near to her lips that juicy bit of fruit for her to take.


Erissa watches his face as he searches in the bag, amused anticipation whispering sweet nothings across her nerves. Blue eyes widen slightly when his choice is revealed, thoughtful expression quickly melting into a short nod of approval. The brief capture of her chin that follows, along with his statement, sets off an array of internal fireworks that leave her grasping to catch up with runaway senses. Then there’s the offered fruit wedge to consider and with monumental effort she forces herself to react calmly, tilting her head forward and ever so smoothly taking a bite out of the wedge rather than taking the whole thing. Teeth clamp down with a soft click and she starts to chew, eyes set to his with a steady, confident light. The aggressive demeanor of her sampling is almost immediately lost when humor gains the upper hand and she lifts one hand over her mouth as a smile and chuckle force their way free.

“Good!” she belatedly replies between chews from behind her hand.


Much as she’d watched his mouth in going after the cheese she’d offered, G’tan’s eyes end up fixed firmly on Erissa’s lips as she bites into what he’s holding there for her. Just part of it, not the whole thing. So what’s he going to do with what’s leftover? He has a few ideas…but then she’s chuckling, which distracts him more than anything else. The sound of it, the way it bubbles up unexpectedly… He finds himself chuckling in turn, and his eyebrows hitch up and down a little bit again as he watches her, bracing on one palm as he peripherally keeps considering what to do with that last bit of fruit.

She’s hiding her mouth at the moment; that sort of scratches one idea he’d had. He could just eat it himself… He opts for a compromise between the former and latter, offering it to her…except letting it sit between his lips to do so, not allowing his teeth to touch it. It’d be easy to dislodge - if she were of a mind. He brings his freed hand down to brace on it as well, a hint of challenge in his eyes and a small, definite smirk tugging at his lips even as they remain still enough to keep that last bit of fruit in place.


Erissa finally swallows and drops her hand but the expression that alights on pretty features is pure delighted mischief. Shadows cast from the campfire trip lightly around the tilted smile that appears, softening the last of the harsher lines severe gauntness had given her.

Reaching to either side of his torso and slowly leaning forward she lets gravity take hold till she’s laying against his chest, the chilly dampness of her shirt a stark contrast to the warmth of her skin. Her fingers just barely touch the blanket behind him but aren’t meant for support anyway.

Being that what she’s wearing hardly qualifies as a shirt as much as a sporty bikini top and he’s not wearing a shirt at all, the physical sensation of leaning against him is nearly enough to singe all coherent thought from her mind. Fortunately the position brings them face to face as well and that remaining bit of fruit held between his lips is a beacon impossible to miss. Closing what little gap is left she takes the fruit easily enough but goes beyond it to press her lips to his, immediately struck by the soft warmth of them and wanting more.


Facing the fire as he his, the softer edge the light from the low flames gilds Erissa’s features with isn’t lost on G’tan…and it also proves a rather stunning backdrop as he watches her, his heart tripping over itself a few times as she leans closer. It isn’t a great distance to cover between them, but the speed at which she moves makes it seem a lot bigger than it is, especially when she reaches past him as she does.

The coolness of still-damp fabric contrasting with the heat of skin - both hers and his - is felt sharply, his body reacting with a small flare of goosebumps prickling across his shoulders and, more obviously, a hardening of flat nipples that just happen to be situated right beneath her top, now that she’s pressed against him. Letting all his weight - and now the extra that Erissa’s added - shift to his left arm, he brings his right hand slowly up to her back - just as she takes the fruit he’s teasing her with and kisses him around it.

The thick, fast spill of warm breath against her mouth that escapes him after that, and the tremble that courses through him to go along with it, makes his own want for more quite evident. Muscles flex subtly against her as he reflexively shifts a bit, fitting himself a little more fully to the lines of her torso melding to his with her lean. A hooded gaze regards her now, but a brow arches in amusement. She just took the fruit from him; now she’s got to finish it before wants get acted upon any further! Doesn’t she? Apparently…she’s stumped him a little.

His hand floats along her spine, fingers grazing feather-light along subtle curves and those warm, soft lips hovering close by hers. Waiting with a very remote impatience for what impedes anything further to become a non-issue.


Impatience is rewarded as Erissa doesn’t keep him waiting. Even chewing quickly isn’t fast enough for her either. Chew, chew, pause, and she slips in a close-mouthed kiss. Repeat a few times and that fruit is -gone-! Technically she should leave it at that and take her turn but now that it’s started she isn’t about to stop so soon, not while she has him sprawled out beneath her in such a deliciously sexy pose and sensations are howling from the temptations of that roving hand and his luscious lips so close.

Tilting her head slightly she reclaims his lips in a kiss that’s gentle at first, slowly savoring, but soon deepens with a thoroughness that aims to have him completely.


Her turn, his turn - G’tan is really not tuned in to any such technicalities anymore. Not now. Muted though his impatience is, it’s most definitely present - and very effectively dispersed by the first kiss Erissa gives him. Each one following just has him smiling wider and wider…until she’s kissing him again in earnest. The gentleness she begins with enthralls him immediately, his mind clearing of all but the mingled sounds of the ebb and flow of the surf against the sand somewhere beyond them in the darkness, the subtle crackle of the fire just past them, and the heavy, quickened beating of his heart. That veil of sound, and Erissa herself, are all his awareness consists of now…and that might make it more accurate to say his mind is not clear. Rather, it’s spinning, pleasantly out of control.

He gives up his bracing pose, the hand that held them up rising to slip into her hair, the other pressing more firmly to hold her against him as gravity asserts itself on the lack of support. Slowly he falls to his back, pulling her with him, his arms around her gradually tightening as the kiss deepens. Her aim is true - she most definitely has him, and he is most willingly had, by now drowning in the feel of her lips and the taste of her mouth even as he does his level best to return it all in kind.


That slow backward movement is perfect, allowing the kiss to continue uninterrupted and even be spurred on further. As her hands come in more contact with the blanket the lower they go she doesn’t bother trying to help brace their descent, knowing he’s plenty strong enough for that, but instead fingers flutter to his sides and soak in the simple pleasure of gliding over his skin, feeling the way his muscles tense and ripple with effort.

Still straddling his hips she shifts just enough to accommodate their new position, so lost in the kiss she doesn’t think about anything else. It doesn’t take long, however, for the need to have more of him to rise. With one final taste she nibbles his lip then drifts off to the side of his mouth to deliver some more. That leads to his chin, of course, and then a luxuriously languid trail along the strong line of his jaw that aims to circle up just below his ear.

There she switches gears somewhat, pausing to nuzzle her cheek against his for a moment, then whisper softly between stolen breaths, “I want you, G’tan.” Another light kiss to the bottom of his ear and she adds, “I have to know…. if what we had before….” Her voice falters. Was it real? Or was it the influence of the drugged tea? Though she doesn’t realize it, it’s a measure of the truth already that she can barely stand to consider the consequences of a negative answer.


A long, deeply content sigh escapes G’tan as they sink down, a soft moan sounding at the glide of Erissa’s fingers over his sides. It’s very close to making him jerk a bit, being so close to ticklish spots for him…though maybe she remembers that. His hands begin another languidly searching journey over the length and breadth of her back, questing ever lower as her lips stray from his mouth and along his jaw.

I want you. Words he’s been longing to hear from her for what seems like so long, even if it’s been a desire he’s kept quiet, even to himself. A thrill courses through him at that, a smile curving his lips…but her last words still him from going further just yet. This…it’s a subject they’d touched on a bit before, but while she was just starting to recover from the withdrawals. Even so, it had prompted one thing to be solidified between them at the time - this being something they both wanted to be real. But did that night qualify as real? He assumes that’s what she’s asking, and it’s something he’s thought about a lot himself. So now…he has a more definitive answer.

He shifts a little, pulling his head back a bit and turning it to look at her, even though the vantage is extremely close now. “What we had before,” he murmurs in reply, “has stuck with me ever since. It was real for me. Very real. And I know what you said was going on with you at the time, but…if any of it stuck with you, if it crossed your mind even through everything that happened after, and if you…” He falters for just a moment, a sliver of fear stinging him again and manifesting in his eyes before he shoves it back. “…If you believe I never would have taken advantage, if I’d known…if it’s a good memory, I think that’s a pretty good answer, aye?” One hand comes up to brush back her hair, resting against her cheek as he studies her eyes. “I believe it was real. What about you?”


So close. So close she can see her reflection in the black of his eyes, see the subtle striations of color that mesh to form the particular blue of his eyes, count the lines of maturity that shadow his brow, and the little crinkles by his eyes and mouth that mark how often he laughs. So close his handsome features fill her entire view.

Kiss plushed lips set in a firm line at first, concern hedging desire, but as she listens the bottom one is caught by her teeth and held till he’s done. That flash of unspoken fear finds an echo within her, raising a dusting of gooseflesh along her arms. His reasoning strikes true though, encouraging hope, and a foundation for something she can’t even begin to fathom yet.

Chest and stomach press against his as she draws a deep breath and lets it out slowly, her head tilting ever so slightly toward his hand. She never went deep. That was her own undeclared rule. It was so much easier to remain in the shallows. But looking into the intense blue of his eyes feels like no part of her is hidden from his view, not even the darkest corners she’s long since forgotten. He makes her want to look into some of those shadowy niches, to wade a little deeper into uncertain waters and risk feeling emotions she’d deemed too dangerous.

“I know how it made me feel,” she finally admits, struggling with trying to honestly examine her own thoughts and feelings. Dark blue hues flicker with an intensity that has nothing to do with the nearby flames as she continues, “And I haven’t forgotten a single moment of it. But…” She pauses, what comes next so very hard to admit aloud. “The tea made everything feel so good. I have to make sure.” Another pause, her tone lowering in a plea for him to understand what she has such a hard time articulating. “Make sure I can trust it.”


As Erissa goes about trying to give voice to something that obviously isn’t easy, G’tan simply keeps her close against him, listening. Watching her expression carefully. Knowing that she hasn’t forgotten is reassuring for him…but what she says about the effect the tea had on her, even though she’d told him much the same thing not long ago, drops him into a long moment of pondering.

Her last words, and the tone in which she delivers them, bring his eyes back into intense focus on her, and he nods, his thumb stroking her cheek. “Whatever you need to do, to be sure…do it,” he whispers, and then he kisses her - deeply, reassuringly, tenderly. It lingers, but not for too long as he parts their lips to speak again, his arms enfolding her in that way that wishes to keep her far from the dark things that would fill her with doubt, as in times before. “We’re together now, and I’m here for you. Yours. Anything you need from me, to be able to trust this…” He shifts ever so subtly beneath her to convey his meaning - this intimacy, the emotions that go with it, everything. “…I’m completely willing to give. But whatever you need to do…don’t hold back.”

Fingers feather at her jaw, playing softly across her lips as he continues studying her. Holding himself in reserve for whatever she does or says next…and perhaps unconsciously holding his breath a little bit. He is certain of them…and wants her to be, too - so much so that the poignancy of the emotion almost has him scared again. But hope…that is what wins out here, and he waits quietly, one finger curling to brush down her cheek.


Erissa has no words for the way she feels. It's all so new, such unexplored territory, that she can't wrap her head around it just yet. His words touch her so deeply that her eyes sting with tears, the tender way he touches her as if she were the most precious and valuable thing in the world wrapping her heart in a silken embrace. Pale lashes press tightly to her cheeks during the kiss, so much emotion stirred up in that gentle blending that it feels like she'll explode from trying to contain them.

She is quiet a moment longer after he finishes speaking, moisture catching even more of the firelight within dark blue hues as her gaze studies him back just as intently as he does her. It goes so much deeper than just his physical features now. Beneath that incredibly handsome exterior is a depth she wants to drown in, to get lost in, to wrap around herself and not let go.

"Ok," she breathes out slowly, voice barely audible but thick with something she can only marvel at. Fingers spread at his shoulder where one hand had risen during their shift of position, the motion repeated as if done absently but all the more reverent for it's cautious precision. "I don't know…what I did to deserve this…deserve you. I don't. No one has ever…" How does one admit to such a huge personal fault? No one but Danorath has ever truly loved her and this is too new to put that label on it yet even if admissions along that route have been made. She can't help thinking there must be some mistake. Surely G'tan will realize it any day now and walk away.

Internally she flinches at the mere thought.

Expression earnest and tone tinged with urgency she tells him, "Make love to me, G'tan."


It would be easy, terribly easy, for G’tan to launch into another speech about things done having nothing to do with it, about how everyone deserves to be happy, about how he feels much the same, in his way…and about how maybe it doesn’t have to make any sense at all. Maybe it just is. But if he can fill in the way she trails off the way he thinks she might have otherwise…

Has she really never had anyone besides her lifemate actually care deeply, connect intimately with her on more than a simple, physical level and yes, even get near enough for that word - that label he won’t hang on it yet himself - to come into consideration? The thought brings up a strange emotion, something akin to consternation but more…benevolent, and he resolves then and there that this isn’t the time for another speech. He can do so much more right now by showing her what he’s feeling.

The last request she makes in that urgent tone, with that earnest expression he hasn’t quite seen the like of from her before…well. That seals it. His breath catches quietly, a sincere yet instantly heated smile curving his mouth. There’s something about the way she words it that holds a deep significance for him. Certainly, he’s had a good time asked of him on several occasions. Sex should always be fun, of course - to his mind…but there had been a lot more to it than that, when he and Erissa had first been together. It’d been something more poignant than just ‘a good time.’ Now…it’s even deeper. To G’tan, to be with someone and calling it ‘making love’ has always meant having not just the body involved, but the heart as well - something he’s always kept firmly out of his mind at a very safe distance.

Until now. Until Erissa. With her, the idea grabs him and lights up the depths of his being with a singular affection and desire thrown open for her that he’s never encountered before.

He does his best not to overthink it, incredible as it is…and just lets it lead him onward.

“Okay,” he whispers, the arm still around her tightening just enough to shift her slightly upward and into the kiss he tilts his chin to give her, his other hand threading into her hair. The hidden layers to his answer, all those words he’s opted not to voice just now, are pulled fully into that locking of their lips - the joy of it in the fervency, his want of her in the increasing depth, his gratitude for her letting him in and showing him something new in the length.

And FADE…………………

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