by Kevan Dunn » Sun Sep 03, 2017 5:45 pm
As his hands wandered across the tantalising smoothness of her legs, Kevan tried to listen intently to her, but the extra-verbal messages her body was sending reverberated stronger in him than her words. His desire quickly picked up to the point when his body aligned its workings toward the singular goal her daydreaming encapsulated quite aptly in direction, if not in intensity or detail. His eyes, once she held them onto herself, only craved for more and dared her. And yet, that was not all that was happening in him.
The pouch.
Essences were struggling. As a young man, Kevan had ever been quick to become angry or jubilant, to laugh or to fight, and not to think twice whenever he had a chance to lay with a pretty girl. How it could be different now when the beauty in his grasp was building the flimsiest stockade of reluctance around a burning desire to be claimed by him?
It was. And yet...
"Neither have I expected this, and yet here we are, craving for each other. Do you know what could happen if I gave in to how much I want you right now, Kaelyn? I would..." He leaned forth, pressing her legs slightly apart to make space for him to get his face closer to hers, to get the message across, as he assumed the haze of passion was as acute for her as was for him. Unwittingly, he whispered to her the details of how he would use his mouth to make her body catch up to her bold declaration, giving her the answer to the question the tavern song had raised in her mind, in vivid description rather than demonstration. Kneeling between her legs, facing her daringly, trapping her eyes in his gaze he uttered all that his imagination was telling him about how their nocturnal rendezvous could unfold. He bared his thoughts before her, honestly admitting to what his body strained for, letting her know it all in no uncertain terms. His breath was heavy, hard to rein in, and his body was shuddering and convulsing, demanding that he acted on his words.
He didn't. Not because his will was like steel, but because there were drives in him even stronger than his overarching desire of Kaelyn. The oath and the affection the pouch on his chest embodied felt like a smoldering ember pressed on his mind, and the awareness that he might actually be Lord of the Burrow already had his father met a similar fate on the road like Leo Tyrell in the lists was weighing on his every move. Seeing her beautiful face and eyes, he couldn't forget that he had watched how this beauty came into being from a small child much younger than him, a girl that was family before she became that smoothness under his hands, beaded with passion sweat, revolting against convention and inhibitions in order to meet his desire halfway. He couldn't ignore that for all the dissimilarities her Dornish blood introduced into his own stock a shard of Maera was looking back at him. And above all else, that she wasn't Arwyn.
But at the crucial moment when 'but' was about to start and his inaction finally getting explained, his throat had dried out and words stopped to yield to him in his sentence-making as the scent of her body invaded his nostrils. There was a moment of pause, of uncertainty if the tension would give, with no ambiguity about what their bodies wanted, very much against better judgement...
Heir to the Burrow (Status 4) * Squire * Good-natured * Boisterous * Seeking Knighthood * Profile
Has: Knightly Kit, Signet Ring, Tymagon