chrysopteron | (no subject)

(no subject)

Iris nearly beats down the door to the bar as she returns to Milliways, the color of her skin nearly sickly-pale and hair darkened with her frustration and anger.

Anger. Iris, goddess of color and light and rainbows, is angry.

She almost runs to the door towards the lake, throws it open, and immediately takes flight. No paths of light trail behind her.

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"Aren't you forward this evening."

Not that Iris minds at all.

"I might have to let you win."

"Its what you say in chess and no, I think I'll win without you letting me."

"Oh ho," Iris whistles. "I will remember this later when we speak of this evening as you trying to cheer me."

"Do," He leans over to kiss her as he moves his queen to check he king.

The game is suddenly far less important than it was previously.

I might be finished with games.

Yes, I think so too.

There's just the table between them and he moves around it and is rather aware he's wearing too much.

Edited 2012-06-03 02:30 (UTC)

Iris' heart thumps awkwardly when Charles moves, but out of excitement and arousal and the way Charles' shirt moves across his chest.

Touch me.

There is nothing rushed and everything methodical, here.

He first kisses her mouth as his hands go down the sides of her robe, caressing through the silk.

Robes are okay I suppose.

They can be wonderful. Where the robe parts, he starts to kiss down her skin as his hands explore her skin.

Not as wonderful as other things. Charles' shadow of a beard rubs against the skin of her belly and it makes Iris want to laugh again for happiness.

Iris manages undoing Charles' belt and starts on his shirt buttons without needing him to shift away from Iris at all.

He appreciates that as he wants to concentrate on her and the feel of her soft skin under his hands and lips.

Charles --

Pants are a problem.

Working on it.

Getting them off means his hands have to do something else but he can be quick and he can still kiss.

"I could just tear them off." Helpfully.

"I like these pants," And he's gotten them fully off.

Iris rolls her eyes. It's an expression she's learned recently.

Είστε όμορφη --

So are you. His pants are off and he resumes kissing her around her stomach.

Charles makes the wind rush in Iris' ears; she loves him for it, but he's too far away from her fingers. She would bring him pleasure here if he might let her.

He moves up to kiss and asks. Better?

Always.

He smiles and runs a hand through her hair, he loves how with her he can be open and so present.

"Now if I remember correctly, someone said something about taking care of me."

"Yes, tell me what you want, Iris."

It's easier to show. Iris has never had - or needed to have - the vocabulary for this. None of her messages ever needed the passion contained here, for him.

Listen. So she shows him her daydream from home - Charles and Iris together, Charles looking at her from above, fingers and the thrust of a hip to make the bed shake beneath them - and her mind stutter-steps, reaching back to earlier, and Charles and pineapple juice off Iris' hand.