She had been terrified to say the least as the murmurings reached her ears. Perhaps the more wise would have noticed she found her way more often to Aubrey's side despite keeping it so relatively chaste. Though the less wise could easily chalk it up as the intended husband and wife trying to get to know each other
( ... )
He has his own taste, she realizes. His own scent and smell and it's old and sends tingles up her spine. Amanda's caught up with her senses of smell, taste, and touch that hearing isn't regarded as it should.
She doesn't hear the glass breaking on the ground, Her bare feet miss the glass, but she freezes when she hears the crunch. She pulls her lips away and her fingers tighten in his hair. "Your... your feet? You stepped in-" She glances down, "Glass."
"Oh --" his gaze flicks downward and he is, indeed, standing on the remains of the glass. Shards digging into pale flesh. He seems to ponder this for the longest moment, before his focus shifts oncemore to her face, and the smile that flickers across his face seems almost... sheepish.
It really is a contrast, the tight - nearly possessive - grip he held her hair in and the nearly boyish expression crossing his face. "Does it hurt?"
It ... seemed ridiculous. Her hands in his hair, his taste on her tongue and he was standing in glass. And she was asking him the most stupid question in the world.
He shifts, glass crunching beneath his feet and the pain -- and it's telling, really, that it's been so long since he had experienced it that he actually has to consider this before answering.
"I should --" the fingers loosen, reluctantly, and he steps clear from the glass "-- I should probably have a look."
He complies, easing himself carefully into one of the chairs. There is at least one shard of glass embedded into the heel of his foot; the blood thick and dark.
Amanda for a moment panics inwardly before then she remembers how easily and how calmly she handled her sister's attack. No one is dead and no one is on the sundeck this afternoon. A shock, really. But she quietly pulls the shard from his foot and studies the blood.
She wipes a drop of the blood from the cut, smearing it. Then she licks over his cut. Everything else about the action - how submissive it might seem, how unhygienic - its secondary to the taste of Aubrey's blood.
To say that this is unexpected would be something of an understatement. Fae have a rather peculiar relationship with blood, death Fae doubly so, and while the gesture itself is so very uncharacteristic of the young lady he... hesitates, uncertain as to how to react. Save to watch her, eyes dark and intent.
She reasons to herself it could staunch the blood, but that's simply ridiculous. Licking a cut doesn't do that. It's simply.
She's never had this desire in her life. She's baked and cooked and did artwork. Injuries happen and she never had this urge. Never.
But there she is, tongue soft and probing and if anyone stumbled upon them - and they could, they're in public - they'd suspect a fetish. She pulls her lips away, eyes flicking to the cut.
She can't look up at the man she just married without figuring out if she stopped the blood.
Well, if the blood has stopped it likely has more to do with his own bizarre biology -- metabolisms that run at a far faster than normal rate -- but still. Points for trying.
He clears his throat: "Well --" and then pauses, frowning. Uncertain how to progress.
She stands up slowly. Skin pale as over despite the red across her nose from the sun that will be gone in the morning and the red of Aubrey's blood smeared over her lips.
Her hands cup his face. She draws closer what seems for another kiss but hesitates. "Too weird... too soon?" But Amanda wants to. She's still tipsy and she's had a taste of skin and blood.
In response he reaches over, catches a stray bead of blood on the pad of his thumb and presses it to his lips. Blood is life, and to a creature that deals so closely with death you will struggle to find something more precious.
There's a play of confusion across her face. She won't know it yet but there will be a difference between the taste of Aubrey's blood and say a living human's. Both exquisite but for different reasons.
She really doesn't know this man well. She should be terrified of him. She should be disgusted with herself. He should kill her and for all she knows he still plans to. After all, he's now a Prince and nothing between him and the title of King.
But she kisses Aubrey with the taste of fae's blood on her lips.
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She doesn't hear the glass breaking on the ground, Her bare feet miss the glass, but she freezes when she hears the crunch. She pulls her lips away and her fingers tighten in his hair. "Your... your feet? You stepped in-" She glances down, "Glass."
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"So I did."
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It ... seemed ridiculous. Her hands in his hair, his taste on her tongue and he was standing in glass. And she was asking him the most stupid question in the world.
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"I should --" the fingers loosen, reluctantly, and he steps clear from the glass "-- I should probably have a look."
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And if he does, she'll pick up his foot to study the damage.
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She wipes a drop of the blood from the cut, smearing it. Then she licks over his cut. Everything else about the action - how submissive it might seem, how unhygienic - its secondary to the taste of Aubrey's blood.
Reply
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She's never had this desire in her life. She's baked and cooked and did artwork. Injuries happen and she never had this urge. Never.
But there she is, tongue soft and probing and if anyone stumbled upon them - and they could, they're in public - they'd suspect a fetish. She pulls her lips away, eyes flicking to the cut.
She can't look up at the man she just married without figuring out if she stopped the blood.
Reply
He clears his throat: "Well --" and then pauses, frowning. Uncertain how to progress.
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Her hands cup his face. She draws closer what seems for another kiss but hesitates. "Too weird... too soon?" But Amanda wants to. She's still tipsy and she's had a taste of skin and blood.
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"I think that's entirely up to you."
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She really doesn't know this man well. She should be terrified of him. She should be disgusted with herself. He should kill her and for all she knows he still plans to. After all, he's now a Prince and nothing between him and the title of King.
But she kisses Aubrey with the taste of fae's blood on her lips.
Reply
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