faemused | Open To Anyone For Anything RP Post

She makes a small, pleased noise into his mouth as they move against each other, then sits back up. Her shift is rucked up over her knees; she releases his hands long enough to pull it over her head entirely, tossing it aside and leaving her clad in nothing but her own hair, Which, admittedly, covers a good deal.

That accomplished she looks back down at him, smirking a little as she takes in his reaction. "I must take thought, then, on how merciful I should be."

He is looking back at her, very clearly enjoying the sight of her, his hands now released tracing circles along her hips.

"I pray my captor to be merciful!"

"And for what reason should I show thee clemency?" She slides her hands under his shirt, pushing it and letting her fingers wander over the planes of his chest.

He shivers under her hands, and his own hands do not cease their exploration of her sides, long teasing strokes.

"None, but my lady's pleasure."

She chuckles at that, then fists her hands into the cloth and uses it to tug him up into a sitting position. Which leaves her free to then pull the shirt over his head entirely. "Are you sure you wish for mercy?" She ducks her head, and kisses his neck once more--then bites again, not quite hard enough to leave a mark. She grips his forearms to hold him still as she continues, kissing and biting and sucking the skin as the moves along his neck and down to the shoulder. "Or would you as tamely submit to my will, were I relentless?"

He doesn't fight, helping her with his shirt eagerly. He moans at the bite, gasping.

"Ai! You are voracious today, my love. And I will... accept all gifts that come to me from your hand."

"Or from my mouth?" She chuckles and soothes the bitten skin with more kisses, wrapping her arms around his back and just holding him for a moment, burying her face in his neck. "You are a fine one to talk of hunger, for surely you began this. I merely follow where you led."

"Even so!"

He shivers under her ministrations, and cards a fond hand through her hair.

"Ah, then I must be terribly pleased that my choice of pathway was acceptable!"

"Acceptable?" Her laugh at this understatement is fond and exasperated, and ceases only when she kisses him again. His skin is warm against hers, both where their chests press together and where her hands are splayed over his back. She half-sits on his lap, half-kneels above it. "Foolish man," she murmurs into his mouth, between countless kisses, hunger temporarily giving way to sweetness. "My foolish, playful Gondorian lord. I love thee."

"My beautiful wild Shieldmaiden." He smiles at her in return, kissing back with equal ardor.

"I love thee more than words can tell."

"Oh?" She chuckles and leans up higher, so she is above him, nipping at his lips and dragging her hands through the tangle of his hair. "Then you will need to show me, surely."

He shivers again, and smiles up at her.

"But my lady has me captive! Or is this a particular order?"

She grins. "A challenge, perhaps?"

She kisses him again, her hands sliding from his hair down to his shoulders and back, over the hard planes of muscle there, then lightly scrapes her nails along his spine.

"I do like challenges." He agrees rather breathlessly, arching against her hands.

"Are there terms?"

"Is not all fair in love and war?" She smirks against his mouth, kissing him long and slow as one of her hands slides around to the front and drifts lower, brushing deliberately along the hard length of him.

He gasps when she does, train of thought scattered as his hips instinctively jerk up.

"That... was very definitely in the realms of unfair." He manages breathlessly, and pulls her down to kiss her thoroughly.

"You said you enjoyed a challenge," she murmurs somewhere between heated kisses. Her hand is still trapped between them, stroking him firmly but with a slowness she knows he will find more maddening than satisfying. They have danced this dance many times, and never tire of the steps.

"There are challenges and there are challenges." He manages, biting back a groan.

"But since my lady has asked..." His own hands go wandering, seeking the very heart of her, looking for that one special spot.

Her breath hisses inwards, and her hand stills where it touches him. "Oh...that is unfair, love..." She has been stroking him through cloth, for he still has one layer of clothing yet, whereas she is entirely unclad.

Or perhaps she merely means that she cannot think clearly while his fingers are just there, carefully parting and touching her. She buries her face in the crook of his neck, her breathing ragged, her hips moving automatically against his hand as it explores her. One hand still cups him, but without moving; the other grips his shoulder hard. "Faramir--"

"But I am merely using the advantage given me."

He blinks at her innocently, but cannot help the smug smile as she moves.

"Should I push you all the way, my love, or would you prefer if I... stop?" Like this.

"Fara--!" Her strangled protest of his name is cut off as she kisses him with increased desperation, and she hits his shoulder with her fist--not hard enough to hurt, merely in frustrated emphasis. The worst of it is that his fingers are still there, just not moving as they were, and she groans her annoyance into the kiss.

But two can play at that, and she's quick enough to tug at his drawers, slip her hand inside and stroke him without barriers, faster and more firm than she had done earlier, trying to make him as impatient as he has now made her.

He laughs, only to break off into a deep groan as she reverses the tables on him.

"Mmm... now who is... playing unfair?" He hisses, trying not to buck up into her hands and his fingers starting moving again in retaliation.

"I think--" She breaks off with a high-pitched gasp as he strokes her again. "Oh...it is time...we stop playing--" Another gasp, and she removes her hand and pulls his wrist away from where he's been toying with her. Not without reluctance--but pleasing as such games are, Eowyn has had enough of them.

She pushes him back down on the bed, kissing him deeply as she settles herself above him, then reaches between them to tug at the waistband of his drawers, shoving them down over his hips. No more barriers between them, no more teasing.

"Well..." but whatever he was going to say is swallowed in the groan as she shifts above him, trembling to prevent himself thrusting up before she is ready.

"Eowyn!"

She only smiles at him in answer, a quick, feral grin of desire and anticipation as she moves back into place above him, then leans down to take another hungry kiss. She doesn't need to look to reach between them, position the both of them, and take him in.

The friction of it makes her breathing ragged as she pushes down, and she rests her forehead on his, eyes closed, one hand cradling his face and the other keeping herself upright. She moves slowly--more slowly than she wants, truthfully, knowing that the end result will be all the sweeter if she can make herself be patient--until she's fully sheathed around him, and there she pauses, taking a few minutes to adjust to the sensation of being filled. Joined.

She lifts her head a little, opens her eyes and smiles at him. "How shall I ride you, my Faramir?" she murmurs. "Hard and fast, or slow and gentle?"

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don't ask how much research I (tried) to do into medieval underwear for this. (I disbelieve results)

/pats soothingly

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