Miho's Room

[twiststheblade]

(OOC: from here)

Miho pushes open the door, and backs into the room, smiling, eyes dark. There is a tiny drop of blood on her lower lip, and she licks it off, red tongue flickering briefly.

The room is sparse, the main piece of furniture being a huge futon in the middle of the room, low posts at it's corners. The window is open, but the room is only pleasantly cool. There's an ashtray and a crumpled soft-pack on the windowsill, but those are the only signs of clutter.

"Coming in?"

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[twiststheblade]

Of course there is a whimper and a moan and a gasp all rolled into one and all stifled into the woman's neck, and her teeth sink in of their own accord, helpless. Her hands, equally helpless, rake up the damaged back before her, setting off bleeding a fresh and the hotness on her hands makes her moan again and bite harder.

[princessjosiane.livejournal.com]

A corresponding moan, then, from Josiane and she hangs her head, moving her mouth down, pulling skin and sensitive nipples into her mouth, soft and salty and moving harder and faster and hotter, teeth scratching the lovely skin beneath her.

[twiststheblade]

And it's all she can do to keep breathing, and her moan isn'ta scream. Not yet. But her hands tangle in the sheets and head and neck and back arch so she is bowed up from the bed. There are some advantages to daily yoga practise and intensive training. Flexibility being one.

[princessjosiane.livejournal.com]

Her moan isn't a scream, and Josie takes that personally. She shifts, her body, her hand, the girl, and she's there and she's there.

[twiststheblade]

No, not a scream, never a scream, but she does bite through her lip, and a thin line of blood runs across her face. And she's stretched taut like a bowstring and something has to give, and something does. It's almost audible when the tension breaks, and she sags back to the matress, shaking. Crying again, in fact, but not in the heartbroken way she was earlier.

With a whimper that's a command she tangles trembling hands in blonde curs and pulls gently.

(never scream)

[princessjosiane.livejournal.com]

Moving up up up and back to her body into her body holding the girl's body Josiane layers her face with kisses, smearing blood and tears all together with her lips and laughs as she pulls her close.

[twiststheblade]

Yes, tears and laughter and whispered thanks and sweat-slick bruised limbs tangling together. Miho licks salty lips and smiles, eyes bright.

"I never did get your neame, princess. Who are you?"

[princessjosiane.livejournal.com]

There's laughter in her voice, and she kisses the girl's nose. "You can call me Josie."

[twiststheblade]

Miho giggles and ducks her head, lips resting briefly in the smudged hollow of the woman's throat.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Miho."

There's a contented sigh, and she pulls a soft comforter over both of them, for damp bodies are uncomfortable in the cool room. She wraps her arms around Josie, and makes a small catlike sound.

"Stay for a bit, if you like."

[princessjosiane.livejournal.com]

Josie smiles and curls into Miho, reveling in the soft against the rough. "For a bit."

And she does.