ruinations | adsom: reunions

adsom: reunions

Too much. It was too much.

Neria had slipped into the dark with incredible ease, buried herself in it so she could escape from her trial and from everything else. She jumped through the layers of the world - the dark, the fissures of other realms, a deeper dark she had no name for - and as she went, the world seemed to simply shimmer away. Neria fell through the layers of the realms and Cassian screamed for her. Rather than fight, she simply allowed herself to fall away from the world.

And as she came back out, she stepped from the shadows of an alley, breathless, leaning against the stone. Her eyes adjusted to the gloom as if she'd gone from dusk to twilight and she waited there a moment, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes until she saw dancing spots. Her chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself.

Cassian whispered to her, cajoling, and she finally came back to herself.

And she was not in Emorr.

The street was unfamiliar. As she stretched her senses through the shadows, she realized that...nothing was familiar here. She'd come out elsewhere in her fit and Neria moved from the alley to quickly begin exploring, keeping to the shadows cautiously.

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Kell's measured weight upon her body brought her no discomfort or pain. If anything, the press of his warmth alone kept her satiated. She was so hungry for him, for this physicality, as if she'd been starved of it - when really, she'd been terrified. Hadn't wanted to be touched.

Her body sang for him, arched for his touch. Tipped one way so his tongue could spear her better. He lapped at her folds until she felt delirious with want. That brief moment where their eyes met made her muscles tighten. Neria's head fell back against the soft blankets and cushions while he gave tribute to her body, coaxing her to a warmer inferno from within, beckoning her to open for him.

Her fingers tightened in his hair while his tongue slid into her, breath coming uneven in faint whimpers. She shifted, moved her legs so she could encircle him just enough...just enough to keep him close.

Slowly, her grip loosened, just enough to stroke through his hair. Keep going.

Kell's arms encircled her thighs from beneath, letting him smooth his palms over her skin, inviting her thighs to brush against his ears, hold him closer. For all that he was touching her, pleasuring her, she was ultimately the one who held the power here.

Kell drew in a breath as she brought him closer, a tightness all down his body, wrought with heat and want, and he moaned low in his throat, arching his hips to press against the mattress, a shiver of breath as the movements of his tongue turned long and slow, ending with heavy flicks against her clit.

Coaxing.

It was lewd, and it sent shivers up and down her spine as he tasted her, licked her folds. Paid attention to her clit until she was trembling, her thighs coaxed near the sides of his head. Her fingers tangled in his hair, stroking against his scalp, alternating between sharper slides of nails.

Much of it was simply unconscious, as Kell pleasured her until she was close to mindless already. She bit down on her lip and tried to watch him, her eyes wide, her face flushed, as she took in the sight of him tasting her. Her fingers slid tenderly over the nape of his neck, urging him on, wanting to see him rub himself into the mattress and come to satiation with her.

If she could hold out that long. His tongue flicked against her and she gasped, pressing back against the mattress, her hips stuttering upwards of their own accord. Neria tried vainly to keep herself from pressing too eagerly against his greedy mouth.

Kell could feel her holding back, trying to keep herself leashed and controlled, trying not to let herself give over to the feeling. Her fingers were warm and familiar against the back of his neck, the bite of her nails an icy-hot scrape of pleasure that left him tingling.

He worked one finger into her.

She was tight, wet, a silken slide that made his breath catch against her clit, his tongue curl as he shut his eyes, unable to keep his mind from racing ahead, from imagining what it would be like inside of her.

Kell gasped for air he didn't need, curled his finger upward and dragged gently but firmly back out, a come-hither pressure as he flicked over her clit. Sealed his lips over her and drew her into his mouth as deeply as he could.

Neria broke on that alone.

The curl of his finger, the deliberate stroke as he pulled out. The clasp of his lips around her clit as he sucked on her. It was too much. With a full-bodied shudder, she came, her muscles clamping down on his finger as he withdrew. Her legs curled around him instinctively; her fingers tightened on his hair. Neria's body bent itself as she whimpered out a sob, breath leaving her.

"O-Oh, oh fuck," she whispered, whined. "Kell."

Every nerve stood on edge now, the little bits of magic still in her fingers vanishing while she tried to catch her breath, rein her heart in from running off.

Kell helped her ride through the moment drawing his finger entirely out, then gliding back in to hold her, to let her rub back against him, to see out every bit of friction and heat and sensation that would draw the orgasm from a momentary high to something that would leave her legs weak and shaking.

There was something about doing this that made it almost more satisfying than an orgasm of his own. Watching Neria come undone was worth more than direct touch and friction, but Kell still chased it, breathing out against the soft skin of her inner thigh, lips still wet as he reached down to touch himself.

Fuck, she wasn't the only one wet. Precome liberally smeared his fingers as he drew the head of his cock through his hand, pressing another kiss to the inside of Neria's thigh.

They both needed a moment.

He held her there and let her ride out her orgasm, along the knife's edge that brought her hips and legs to tremble uncontrollably as she rubbed herself helplessly against him, wanting that fire to sweep through her until there was nothing left. Neria's voice was pitched just slightly higher in tone, though quiet still; even if she'd unraveled, she still held herself in check in some ways, and she cared too much for Kell's privacy to be so loud.

(Not that she'd realized, yet, that it mattered little.)

She gasped softly, the sound of her voice faint. Soft moans carried with every breath as she tried to breathe normally once more, and she reached for him again, smoothing over his hair, his neck, the tops of his shoulders. Realized, then, that he was stroking himself. Neria tipped her head to look down at him, to watch, wide-eyed and flushed and still wanting. He kissed her and she bent upward with some effort - too much effort, enough for her legs to quiver - until she could reach him again. Neria kissed his head, his brow, and tugged him up and over her once more. Her hands reached for his arms, for his chest, his sides, which she touched tenderly. She tipped her head to kiss his cheek, his jaw.

Neria trembled as she reached for him, and he slid one arm around her waist, pushing up with his other hand so he could lock that arm around her, draw her close and lean into her touches, her kisses. He was still catching his breath.

"Are you trying to be quiet?" he asked softly, running his tongue along his lower lip to catch the last of her taste. His thumb pressed against the small of her back, rubbing into the warm curve, the indent of her spine.

Kell leaned his face into the curve of her neck, breathing her in. It wasn't steady.

"You don't have to."

Her face pressed briefly into his hair, nuzzling him as he pulled himself up almost to her eye level. Where he lingered, he would feel the thundering of her pulse, her heartbeat impossibly loud. Neria's arms wrapped around him and she leaned into his grip, into the tender stroke of his thumb.

"I'm...I'm not going to-- Kell, you're important here, I don't want to make things worse for you." The guards were one thing. Being reprimanded by the king and queen and possibly being separated from him was another. He might not be the crowned prince but he was still something.

Neria hooked one of her legs up over his hip, wanting to be as physically close to him as possible. She buried her face in his hair, drowning herself in the smell of Kell and the lingering scent of his magic.

"Have you met Rhy?" Kell asked, with a breath of exasperation mixed in with fondness, a touch of heat. "These hallways have heard much worse."

And then Neria pressed against him, cuddling and holding close, and Kell flattened his hand, easing himself more fully into her touch. Into the press of her body against his, her warmth.

Worlds away they'd held hands whenever they spoke to each other, her body heat a welcome burn of life against his skin. This was familiar, but so much more.

Despite his words, the way she held him forestalled any thoughts of pushing them further, at least for the moment. Kell answered her touch and followed her back down to the sheets, clasping her close.

To that, she only laughed, a breathless sound pressed against his fine hair. "Oh, Rhy," she whispered, fond, incredulous. Her heart ached at the memory of him in the snow, her hand on his arm. When their eyes met only once in the halls of Aallotar. Her arms seemed to tighten around Kell in response, drowning herself in the physical intimacy that she might forget how much some parts of her simply hurt.

If Kell worried she wasn't going to press for more, he needn't; Neria kept her hold on him in every way, including pressing herself close enough that her body still rested against his own, soaking in his warmth.

Neria turned her head just enough so she could look into his face. "If you're hoping I'll be loud, then," she murmured. "You're going to need to push me over the edge." Make her mindless, force everything to fall away. "Until there's nothing else but you." She smiled, slow. Sharp. "If you think you can make me scream, Kell, you're welcome to try."

"He'll have missed you," Kell said, because Kell could poorly time anything. He made a soft, breathless noise as Neria tightened her arms around him, drew him closer until he couldn't help but slide against her, all her soft skin and iron muscle and slick heat.

Kell had already been breathless; Neria had gone once, enough to take the edge off, but her words halted further rational thought. Reduced him to baser things, reminded him of how difficult patience could be.

Drawing his hand up her side, Kell brushed his hand over the swell of her breast, flicking his thumb slowly over a nipple, worked his knee between her thighs -- and was immediately seized with the mental image of her riding it. Swallowing his groan, Kell forced his eyes back up to hers.

"I want to know what you like," he said frankly, his blue eye locked on her face, the edge of a smile on his lips. "We've never talked about it."

"I've missed him too," she whispered into Kell's hair, and shifted as he did, allowing him close. He pressed tightly to her and she shivered, turning her head to press her face into Kell's throat for a moment, the muscles of her thighs and hips tightening. He slipped his knee between her legs and she pulled back to watch him, her body moving to press back against him. Like a woman starved, she craved every scrap of physical affection he gave her, and there was no shortage of that.

When he spoke again, Neria tipped her head to look at him better, and she reached for his face. She brushed a few strands back that had fallen forward near his eyes, and swiped her thumb over his cheek. "No, we never did. Why would we have? I--" She never told him how she felt. Had shied away. Foolish, too. There were so many things she never said. "I don't know what you like either," she pointed out softly. "But what I like..."

It was strange. Her thoughts caught again on the last time and she struggled to pull them from the mire. And when she did, her thoughts did not go to Archer, oddly enough. They went to someone else. "I like rough things," she admitted. "I don't think that's any surprise to you. I've...wanted harder things, things that push me over the edge, because I want to feel alive again." Kell would understand now, she felt. "Slow and steady, pulling me apart. Making me beg for one more release, so I can stop thinking." And stop remembering the pain and the anger and the loss she always seemed to carry, the static and white noise that always lingered in the back of her mind. Her gaze seemed distant as she tried to remember the things that made her happy, the few times she'd had anything before it all became duty again.

"I... This is difficult. I didn't think it would be," she said, and finally smiled, focusing on him once more, her fingers kneading at the back of his neck where her hand had settled unconsciously. "I have a great deal of stamina, so whatever it is, it has to be...rigorous and thorough. Very few people manage it." She leaned closer so she could kiss him again, even knowing she would taste herself. "I like your magic on me," she whispered against his lips. "I like your mouth. I like your hands and I like how strong you are. That you keep me from moving, because you know I'll try to unwind you first. And I will, if you let me." Her hands were already straying down his chest again, a hint of heat, but then she drifted two fingers down his sternum, and the magic that was on her fingers was alive and vibrant and raw.

What she liked.

Kell drank it with slightly wide eyes, overlaying the words and shatter-edged images in his mind, over what he knew of her. I want to feel alive again.

His heart gave a leap inside his ribcage, knocking against things inside, a buzz of power that lit up his nerves like turning up the gas on a flame.

Instinctively he reached up and took her wrist, curling his fingers around it and bringing it to his mouth, where he could kiss that delicate skin, graze it with his teeth as if he wanted to bite down and taste her.

"I like," he began, "that you are so forthright with what you want." He pressed with his teeth, heavier down, blunt and claiming pressure as he sucked a soft, deep mark into her skin.

It was cold enough that it would be covered with clothes easily enough, but it was so near to showing.

It was there in the back of his mind -- she'd been hurt, but Kell knew from experience that being treated as something fragile rarely helped as much as anyone thought it would.

"I've seen how you come alive in battle," he murmured, his lips warm against her palm.

"I wasn't always. I still..." With so many things, she was quieter. But her feelings always felt tangled and in the open for people to stare at, especially after the Black Wolf. But Kell knew more about her than almost everyone else - and in some ways, he knew her better than all of the others, Archer included.

He drew hardened pressure against her wrist and her eyes widened, watching, entranced for the moment by the flash of white teeth, as if she anticipated he'd tear into her flesh and she'd see pearl blood. The mark only briefly stung...but she liked it that way. "I think-- I think I'm broken, sometimes. That I've been broken for so long that I don't know how else to be." That she'd died once before on a broken tower, covered in blood, in the shadow of a dragon and no longer knew how to be a person any longer. Neria's countenance was thoughtful, strangely, and not dismayed. Her other hand slid through his hair, marveling at its softness. She turned her gaze towards his.

"My heart runs away with me on the battlefield. Anything could happen. The world narrows. I stop thinking about...about tomorrow, about the next conversation. I'm right there in the battle, all of me - my soul, my heart, my thoughts - and nothing is more important than survival. Than taking care of what's mine." She smiled lopsidedly. "All of me feels awake. The rest of the time, I feel as if some part of me is cold and heavy and...dead."

She shifts just a little bit, enough so she can gently rub the pads of her fingers over his scalp - not scratching so much as offering slow friction, as she might towards a cat. "What about you, Kell? What do you like?"

What she said made sense in the way that the first conjured flame had, when he'd rolled it over his fingers. Like something had been yearning to be given shape, and finally he could see it for what it was, touch it, feel the heat against his skin instead of only in his heart.

He leaned into her touches, hungry for them, starving for them, soaking them up like rain on dry ground.

"I like roughness," he confessed. "The feeling of holding and holding down, both teasing and ruthless, long and slow and intense, or abrupt and desperate." He ran his tongue over his lower lip, wetting it- "but I also like being made use of. I like using my mouth, my fingers, being pushed down and ridden. I like the play of power, and-"

Kell shut his mouth, slowly opened again. "-the trust, that comes with it."

He sighed deeply.

"... tell me what you don't like."

"You like opposing extremes," she murmured with a slight shiver at the mental image his words conjured, fondness in her tone. Her fingers found the nape of his neck, stroking over warm skin. Her legs circled a little tighter around him, keeping Kell close, basking in the press of his body.

What he said about power play, about making use of someone, trusting someone with all of yourself... She understood that too. Neria turned her head, brushing her nose against the sensitive skin of his throat, kissing at his shoulder.

"I don't...want to be humiliated. Or used without my permission." It wasn't about the dungeons. It wasn't about the things she suffered through. "If it is me and another person and I trust them...I'll let them do almost anything. But I won't be made a mockery of. I won't be a toy to be chewed up and spit out. I won't be degraded again." Her fingers fell over his shoulder, down the beginnings of his back, just to touch. "I don't want to hurt others, either. And it's...difficult for me to take true, full control unless that is what someone wants." To be someone's master again brought nothing but sharp memories, too many regrets. But if someone told her they wanted to secede control... She didn't know. This part was difficult, too.

Neria looked up into Kell's face.

"What are the things you don't like?"

Kell breathed slowly out as she pressed against him. He was still hard, aching, but not to the point he couldn't pay attention. Still, her lips on his skin made it more difficult. He braced with one elbow, gently tangling his fingers into her hair, drinking in her shivers.

As he listened, he relaxed into her touch, brought his other hand up to brush his fingertips against her cheek.

"Similar to yours. No degrading, no humiliation- control, though. That I can do, with trust." he trailed off. "But only for someone who would want that. I don't-" his brow twitched, slightly. "I am not attracted to innocence or naivete. I do not like feeling as though I am taking advantage."

Too many people had seen him as a monster, and he'd never liked it.

"Desperation, yes," he added. "Teasing, yes, but not outright denial."

Kell closed his eyes, drinking in the feeling of her hands.

She turned her face into his fingers, leaning into them for but a few brief moments. And then she brushed her lips against them, tender despite what they'd done. Neria's gaze never left Kell's, unabashed and fond all at once on him. Slowly, her hands roamed upwards. She took his face gently between them, cradling.

"You aren't going to take advantage of me." Her thumbs brushed over his cheeks. Softly, she told him, "I used to think...it's just a body. It means so little if someone hurts me. They can't touch my heart." Which was what she told herself over and over again in the dungeons. They could burn her or hurt her, but it was only a body. It was when they could have killed Cassian that she gave in.

Her hand drifted lower, cupping his neck, fingers stroking over the column of pale skin in admiration. "Even so, I know you won't hurt me unless I ask you to." She leaned in to kiss him, the first press soft, almost chaste. "And I won't deny you anything." Not his pleasure, not her body. Not her heart. He could have all of it.

"You could ask me to," Kell murmured against her lips, surprised again at how soft they were, how warm and pliant and real against his own. The feeling of her fingers, addicting on his skin.

He leaned into those touches, wound one of her dark curls round his fingers, soft gentle tugs as he brought them back to the present.

"And I would, and in the same breath I would stop. At your word."

So many orders, over the years, leaving it ingrained in him -- but the ones he wanted nothing more than to follow were the ones who would never seek power over him.

"I know," she told him, leaning into him. Briefly, she smiled, the expression warm. "I know you would. No one else has my trust like you do." Neria tangled their legs together a little more deliberately, that Kell might be pressed directly against the flat of her abdomen. "And I would do the same for you."

And for a moment, she was silent, though that latch of her leg alone said she was ready for more - and she almost seemed like she wished to. But there was one more thing.

Neria turned her head, brushed their lips together a bit more heatedly this time, and then murmured against his mouth: "What do you want me to do to you, Kell." Her hands fell, found his hips, squeezing. "Right now."

Though Kell hadn't precisely lost any of his enthusiasm, the way she pressed against him, trapped the length of him between their bodies, made him take a quick breath between his teeth. It sounded like a low hiss, lost between the hangings of the bed.

As Neria hitched her leg more securely around him, Kell fell deeper into her kiss, taking his hand from her hair to run it down the curve of her spine, fingertips tracing the dip in the small of her back, urging her closer. He was damp, just barely, against her skin.

Do to you.

"Torn," Kell answered, like a growl in the back of his throat, working to get his breath back. "Between two things. One- your mouth on me-" and he chased that remark with his lips, a soft, sure flick of his tongue as he kissed her, "or two, to rub-" breathless, he reached down between them to wrap his fingers around his cock, dragging the tip down along her skin until the head of him slid between her legs, rubbed over her clit.

"Right here, until you can't help but need me inside."

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adsom: reunions

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