[for tsuzuki]: gonna getcha getcha getcha
Melisande draws him up the stairs, if he follows willingly, as though she is pulling a fish up a line, reeling him in with a string that is entirely invisible and every bit as hard to break. She smiles at him, though, her eyes lazy, relaxed, like a cat sunning herself after a large meal...or after the battle for it has been won.
"I promise I'll be gentle," she says again, soothingly. "I would never...want to hurt you, dearest. I would never want you to suffer what you cannot bear."
Typist willing, she draws him in close again and kisses his lips, solidifying her hold on him with every renewed touch.
She's not letting him go now, not if she can help it.
Warning for adult content of explicit nature.
"I promise I'll be gentle," she says again, soothingly. "I would never...want to hurt you, dearest. I would never want you to suffer what you cannot bear."
Typist willing, she draws him in close again and kisses his lips, solidifying her hold on him with every renewed touch.
She's not letting him go now, not if she can help it.
Warning for adult content of explicit nature.