A Certain Type of Ass

Description:

Emory Ardelia

  • Black Widow Priestess
  • Played By: Jones

    Dena Nehele Terreille
    40 Posts    0 marks
Re: A Certain Type of Ass
« Reply #15 on: March 15, 2018, 08:15:06 PM »
die with memories not dreams
❀ ❀ ❀

This was not a game Emory understood. Knotting up on the inside as she tried to work around his words. Take them at surface value, because she wasn’t really sure there was anything beneath them. Or what one did with those sorts of underthings anyway. ”I said if they have their way.” They might still. Her hopes were not high- but they weren’t crushed either. Not yet. Someday the boys that ran from her now would be men, maybe even braver ones. Maybe the next group of guests would bring experienced escorts from outside the territory.

Maybe she would meet the right person by accident. One never knew.

Fists settling on her hips Emory puffed up to her tiptoes, ”Because some webs are private.” One day she hoped to figure out the way other Black Widows wove webs no one else could read. Until then she had favorite groves where others rarely tread. Quiet places she could ply her Craft in peace. ”Besides, the horses might eat them. Or big clunking farriers might walk into them.”

”I’ve done some fairly large ones between tree branches though.” She admitted with a grin. Hovering on the brink of another sentence. Not sure it was the sort of thing she should say to a stranger. Not sure she wanted to pass up the opportunity to make him laugh again either. ”Perhaps... I’ll maybe borrow you someday then. And see for sure what that Green can do.”

There was no where to hide so she was glad for the excuse to laugh at his next line. To let her face redden a little to mask all her inner squirming. Even as it increased to unpleasant levels. The misunderstanding far from cleared up in her mind. Knots in her belly growing curiously hot. And heavy. Sinking low. Lower than she could honestly accuse her stomach of reaching. Knees tightening together she scowled in confusion. ”It was you that suggested it.”

”I’m not upset!” She scoffed. Refusing to give an inch of her fence line up. Leaning towards him to drive the point home. This was her place! She held the higher caste, even if his jewels could drag her into Hell. ”I’m not. I just thought we were getting along... then you said I was harassing you.” She didn’t want to admit she felt naive and ridiculous. Those sharp eyes would turn soft. Look at her like the baby sister if she so much as flinched. She just knew it. ”And stop calling me that. My name is Emory.”

So there! She wasn’t a baby! And she wasn’t afraid of some backwoods boy. Or man. Head craning back to meet his sleepy eyes she settled closer on the fence. Half a step. Hardly noticing she had at all. ”What do farriers do for fun then? Other than eat?”

Keen Hawthorne

  • Prince
  • Played By: dergon

    Dena Nehele Terreille
    10 Posts    0 marks
Re: A Certain Type of Ass
« Reply #16 on: March 21, 2018, 12:49:53 AM »

He was laughing at her. The sound building slowly as he watched her feathers ruffle. Defensive and unsure. All the strings of her ego plucked and singing until she settled her hands on her hips. Raised up, even, on her tip toes. And had a real go at him. Keen laughed then. Teeth parting as it rolled out.

Snapping shut to form a smirk.

”Have many of them in your stable then, girl? Great hulking farriers?” Not a single one, he knew. She’d let him taste the truth. Fierce, virginal girl. Of course she was. A proud Ardelia. Who would they dare stoop love enough to allow to bed the precious girl child? ”Have you?” Keen encouraged. He liked her this way. Ready to fight. Much more pleasant than shrinking.

Nevermind that she was a smart assed little brat. Tongue licking the cold from his lips, his eyes narrowed. Just the corners turning in on themselves. A prowling at the edges of his barriers.

”Oh, aye? And maybe I’ll let you.” Borrow more than his Green. Daring girlie. ”It just needs fed, after.” He informed her, voice dropping to a deep rumble. He knew how it would feel to weave their power together. He’d leant his strength before, though usually not to pretty girls. It was a pleasant feeling, the sharing. Intimate. Good.

Cocky as a barnyard rooster, Keen met her. Coming closer while she refused to cower. Desperate to meet him on even ground. Keep as much of her higher footing as she could manage. Grinning at her defense.

”I did no such thing. I was just curious why you’d come down to the barn, is all.” If she’d been a cat he was sure she would have been spitting at him. Back up and tail out. So indignant! He chuckled and made no apologies for being so close. Near enough to smell the faint traces of her shampoo. Smirked. ”Emory, then.” He’d conveniently forget later. Smiled all the more as she took a step backward. Moving in to fill the space she’d vacated.

”I think the hobby changes depending on what I’m eating.” Smile turned wicked. Keen shrugged lazily, gripped a rail in one hand, leaning his weight into that arm. ”Its busy work, with lots of travel. I find it easy to keep my hands busy with work rather than mischief.” There was always something in need of doing. And ladies in need of wooing too. ”About priestesses who weave man sized webs?” Like this one.

Here was a girl in desperate need of some wooing if Keen had ever met one. Sure she’d been a hell of a challenge.

Emory Ardelia

  • Black Widow Priestess
  • Played By: Jones

    Dena Nehele Terreille
    40 Posts    0 marks
Re: A Certain Type of Ass
« Reply #17 on: March 24, 2018, 12:47:34 PM »
die with memories not dreams
❀ ❀ ❀

Deflating to her heels again Emory chewed the inside of her cheek. Less sure about this fellow by the second. Or at least, less sure of how to be at an advantage. Her stomach shivered as she considered that maybe she just couldn’t. That didn’t mean she had to be afraid though. Sucking her bottom lip she tried to pick innuendo from typical conversation, not sure that either was happening. Lips beginning to chap in the cold as she wet them again to answer, ”None of note. They tend to come and go.”

He would come and go too, she reminded herself. Spurned too many times to fool herself this one. Men were not so different from boys she was quickly finding. Not really. Taller, with trickier words; and a bit more sure of themselves. The boys made their excuses and tucked tail. A farrier had plenty of legitimate reason to leave.

If he planned to be gone quick he didn’t show it though. Easing in; looming closer every time she blinked or so it seemed. Nearly crowding in despite her own attempts to stand tall. A deep breath and nervous fingers passing over her lips as gravel changed his voice to something else. Something that yanked at all the twisted knots in her stomach. Tingled the places those strands connected. Secret, private places that shouldn’t have known to react at all.

”I’m no hearth witch but I wasn’t ladyship enough to have skipped a cooking lesson or ten.” She promised. Were they making a deal?! She wasn’t sure she had meant to go making any deals. The fact remained, nonetheless. Before she was a Priestess or a Black Widow of any caliber she had been a daughter and sister. Stirring pots and hemming sleeves. Learning all the things a woman of simple means was supposed to know. ”I can feed you.”

Maybe that would still his smirking lips. Something to chew on. Emory traced the lines of a palm with the opposite thumb. Hands wrapped in heating spells instead of donning mittens. There was something very restricting about her fabric over fingers that liked to work. Knitted gloves only stuck to spidersilk.

Mother Night was close. Smile almost sharp with the press of warning. Fence to her back so that she couldn’t really slip away at all now. Strange that it hadn’t crossed her mind yet. Instead she was thinking about how easily she could shift a hip and bump right against his. Emory couldn’t back down. Even if her eyes softened thoughtfully as he clarified his previous teasing. ”I like the barn. The house is...” She didn’t have a good word. ”heavy.” Expectation, duty, and protectiveness weighed on her shoulders there. Watchful brothers and loud queens with lurid advice.

Words of warning about just such moments. Blood racing as he hinted at jokes she was surely missing. What was so clever about eating? She wanted to know, Darkness have mercy did she want to know. Tongue dipping behind her teeth as she listened. He did not seem the type to keep out of trouble at all. But she couldn’t recall ever hearing a bad story either. ”I suppose that must be pleasant when the weather is fair. All the traveling... I’ve never been much anywhere. Maybe once I’ve- maybe in future.” When she was less vulnerable so her family wouldn’t mind her bobbing between escorts. Then she’d travel. Just the length and breadth of Dena Nehele.

Eyes shifting to the side as she considered the question again Emory shrugged. They did bump then. Hands and elbows brushing. ”Anything outside. Riding, sledding, weaving those man sized webs. Sticking a few by the alehouse to give Connor the willies.” Nothing very exciting, she realized. No real friends to run off with. Just the quiet spots she went to commune or summon up secrets. ”I work a lot too I guess.”

Keen Hawthorne

  • Prince
  • Played By: dergon

    Dena Nehele Terreille
    10 Posts    0 marks
Re: A Certain Type of Ass
« Reply #18 on: March 29, 2018, 10:09:40 PM »

”And here you are offering to do more work for me.” I can feed you, she’d said so blithely. Keen’s stomach was still twisted tight enough to yank his balls. She hadn’t meant it that way, he knew. But the swift punch to his gut had not.

Instead of fleeing the accidental touching, Keen moved into it. He enjoyed playing. With Emory especially. Sweet girl. Snobbish, bratty girl. Woman, something whispered. She wanted making into one. So he leaned in. No truck with virgins, but Keen was developing a fondness for haughty girls.

”You work too much, ladyship.” Hands grasping the top most rail. Arms braced on either side of her. ”A little girl’s existence. I’ll come be fed when you aren’t so overwhelmed with heavy houses and snappish brothers.” Too well guarded now. He had no interest in trekking up that hill to be watched while he ate. Not by brothers.

”Fair?” For now just a drink for the road. Keen leaned in. Leaned low. Lips nudging her cheek. Bone to bone until her chin tipped up. Lips. He wanted her lips. Just for kiss. Not even a naughty one. Not chaste, there was wanting in it. Firm. But he taunted her with no tongue. Just firm lips and promise.

”You can call, when you’re ready.” Aching. Body wanting to crush her against the fence. To stuff his tongue so far down her throat he could lick her nipples from the inside. Hard. So fucking hard. Brat. ”No webs when I come to shoe though. I don’t much like the willies, your ladyness.” He wanted her.

But tormenting her seemed like much for fun than simply giving in to his more base desires.

Emory Ardelia

  • Black Widow Priestess
  • Played By: Jones

    Dena Nehele Terreille
    40 Posts    0 marks
Re: A Certain Type of Ass
« Reply #19 on: March 29, 2018, 11:13:43 PM »
die with memories not dreams
❀ ❀ ❀

”I wouldn’t mind, as long as the return is worth my while.” There! Arrogant man with his laughing eyes and cocksure grin. Emory’s chin lifted again, just a little. She knew enough about wordplay to use innuendo too!

Less certain, though of what to do with the crowding. About! About the crowding. Face lowering again she stared at his chest. Trying to keep her own breathing steady. Not so fast and shallow. It was hard though, too much room for her lungs now that her stomach had dropped right through her body. Condensed down to a rock that shifted in the center of her pelvis. That unnameable core she had only ever brushed against late at night when sleep evaded her.

Did she? Eyes creeping up she watched the hollow of his neck instead. A nice safe spot where she didn’t have to see his grinning face. Her own heating up again as he penned her in. He smelled of horses and bailed hay. Something gritty underneath. Unfamiliar but enticing. A smell that oddly made her think he’d taste like salt. Teeth tucking her lips away she nodded. Not sure how to feel about what he said.

He’d come? But not now. Called her a little girl too. Did it matter what excuse he used? She moved to flip her hair back over a shoulder, eyelids low so he’d know she didn’t care. She didn’t! It was no business of Keen Hawthorne’s if she was a child or not. Let him think what he liked.

Something snarky, she was going to say something snarky. But it was gone in a puff of smoke. That little rock that was once her stomach melting. Turning all her bones to liquid too. Before his lips even touched her. Just the nearness as he leaned in plucked all the little strings he’d thrummed to life across her skin. What in the world was this?

She opened her own mouth. Breathing in a nervous gasp. Surprised. Excited. Leaning back just a little so she could press some part of her to him. Not enough time to excuse the way her hands wandered up to circle his wrists.

Mother Night. She had been kissed deeper than that. Warm lips that had stolen her own. They were useless kisses then, though. And maybe this one was too. But it stirred her up. Mind turned to mush. She let him go as they parted again. Some sort of promise passed between them. What she wasn’t sure. That night and many after she would lie in her bed wondering what she’d said in answer. Usually while she found that hidden place with her own nibble finger and temporarily put out the fire he’d sparked.
 

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