Fanfic! Mara, Joss me like a hurricane
For I have written fic.
Title: To Serve You
Author: airspaniel
Rating: soft NC-17
Pairing: Mikney/Rhkadi
Word Count: 1468
Notes: You may be interested to know that, as I was writing Rhkadi, the woman I was thinking of was Leonor Varela. She's Chilean, not Brazilian, but I think y'all know where my head was at. 0_o Plus, HOTT.
Summary: It seems as if he’s suspended in midair, and everything outside himself is only Rhkadi; only the sound of her breath and her heart, her scent, and the fire of her presence
“Close your eyes, beloved.”
Her voice is like silk, caressing his ears, his skin; surrounding him. Just as soft, just as sensuous, and just as disarming.
“Rhkadi,” Mikney sighs, complying with her wishes. He knows full well that she is capable of taking his sight, or replacing it, even if his eyes remained open; but there is something thrilling in the simple surrender of the act, the trust inherent in it.
The rushing of his heartbeat is not due to her magic alone.
She laughs, and it sounds like bells. “What is your wish, love?”
“My only wish is to be yours, my lady,” answers Mikney, slightly breathless in anticipation. “I am, as always, your devoted servant.”
He feels the answering curl of her lips like smoke down his spine, ribbons of violet and gold. “My servant, you say?” Rhkadi touches him, lightly, fingertips running from the crown of his head down his back, and he shivers.
And all at once the world changes, tumbling and spinning into a new creation, and Mikney, eyes closed, can only brace himself for Rhkadi’s desires. He can feel the heat of her body as she circles him, an almost physical presence against his skin, though she does not touch him. Not yet.
“Then perhaps you should serve me. Submit to my will,” she purrs, and the sound of it vibrates through the very core of Mikney’s being. “Show me how devoted you are.”
“Of course,” he replies, more a sigh than a sentence, and he’s no longer certain if he’s standing or lying down. It seems as if he’s suspended in midair, and everything outside himself is only Rhkadi; only the sound of her breath and her heart, her scent, and the fire of her presence.
And then - oh - she parts his lips with the barest brush of a fingertip, and she’s inside him; and Mikney can only gasp for breath, softly crying out as her magic sets him aflame.
Rhkadi whispers his name, full of worship and wonder, and he is overcome. She slides her finger past his lips, and Mikney suckles it gratefully as he shudders, anchoring himself with the salt sweet smoothness of her skin.
“You are so beautiful in your pleasure, beloved,” sighs Rhkadi, her voice low and intense with desire. “So beautiful when you come undone for me.” Mikney is helpless to suppress the small, hungry sound he makes at her words. He captures her finger gently between his teeth, heart still racing, but already eager for more; wanting to make Rhkadi writhe against him, make her pant and scream and clutch at him, her nails leaving fine red scratchmarks on his pale flesh.
Rhkadi laughs, drawing her finger away with a final, fleeting caress to his lower lip. “You want much,” she says, and he can hear the smile in her voice. It is true, he does want much, but what he wants most immediately is to see her; to trace the sleek lines of her body, her perfect face, with his eyes as well as his hands.
“Look at me,” she commands, granting his wish. By the gods, she is breathtaking; dark and endless eyes, the long, elegant curve of her neck as it slopes into her shoulder; every inch of her skin calling out for him to touch, to kiss.
His hands reach out of their own volition, and he is at first surprised when they stop short, but now he can feel the soft fabric around his wrists, blood-warm with the heat of his own body. Rhkadi grins, her eyes alight with mischief, pressing the trailing length of silk against her lips.
“I have bound you, my sorcerer.” She drags the iridescent green-gold up his chest; resting it against his throat as she leans in close enough to kiss. “And now you are at my mercy.”
“Then nothing has changed,” Mikney says, his breath mingling with hers, their lips almost touching. “For I have always been bound to you, and am eternally at your mercy.”
Rhkadi surges forward then, kissing him deeply, desperately; and he can feel how his words have affected her. Her hand, shaking slightly, threads into his hair to keep him close.
Mikney smiles into the kiss, nips at her full lower lip then soothes it with his tongue, gratified at the quiet, needy noise that escapes her. Then it is his turn to be tormented, when she shifts her weight on top of him; her long, lean legs folded on either side of his body as she teases his erection with the sweet slickness between them.
“Rhkadi,” Mikney moans low in his throat, bucking his hips up against her, and Rhkadi cries out, moving rhythmically against him in return. But neither of them can stand it for long, and soon Rhkadi slips her hand between their bodies, guiding him inside.
Her back arches as she takes him slow, a neverending, maddening slide into bliss until finally they are joined, and Mikney feels like he may never be able to breathe again. Like he would never again want to unless it was by the gods like this, just like this, together with Rhkadi, one in breath and heartbeat and body.
“Oh, beloved,” Rhkadi sighs; her elegant hands braced against his chest as she rocks her hips, gently at first but with a desperate need. Her fingers drift up over his shoulder, tracing the blue-black sigil there, one of so many that mark his ivory skin; and even though it isn’t active, Mikney still inhales sharply, wrists tugging at his bonds with the helpless desire to touch.
Rhkadi smoothes her hands up his arms, displacing the silk that had fallen across Mikney’s throat, and it slides away like a warm summer breeze, leaving goosebumps in its wake; one more sensation to add to the multitudes that threaten to drown him.
“I want to touch you,” Mikney begs, beginning to feel lost. Rhkadi’s hips are snapping faster, more erratically, and she’s close, he knows it. He wants to bring her over, to give her more, always more, and his fingers ache for wanting her.
Her back arches suddenly and her breath hitches on a gasp, and Mikney knows she sees his thoughts; can feel her inside him just as surely as she surrounds him. “Please, my love, please,” he pleads between breaths. “Let me touch you. Please, Rhkadi… release me.”
She shudders at her name on his lips, and no sooner is the silk gone than Mikney’s hands are on her waist, her hips; the perfect curves of her breasts. He leans up, taking one rose-pink nipple into his mouth and teasing it with his teeth and his tongue.
“Ah!” Rhkadi cries, cradling his head to her chest, clenching her other hand on the latticework headboard of their bed. Mikney skims his hands down to her hips, holding her tightly to him as the world begins to go white; the lines between their bodies disappearing and melding into one another until it seems they are one, a pure being of love and light and ecstasy.
Rhkadi is quivering now, above him and around him, breath falling out in a litany of yes and Mikney and now, beloved, now, please now, and he’s never, never been able to deny her.
“Rhkadi…”
Mikney gathers her close, just after; arms wound protectively around her, his trembling fingers winding through her long raven-black hair. She buries her face against his neck, lips open and pressed to his throat, a kiss to comfort, not consume. It takes a long time for their breathing to slow and become steady, and they both shiver when Rhkadi pulls away, sighing when they part.
She curls into his side, fingertips idly tracing over the symbols that mark Mikney’s skin; flitting from his side to his shoulder to his arm. The touch isn’t quite ticklish, but Mikney laughs anyway, low and contented. Not to be deterred, Rhkadi licks a lazy path up Mikney’s throat, affectionately nibbling at his earlobe.
“My lady is insatiable,” he chuckles, and he can feel her smile against his ear.
“And you would have it no other way.”
“You know me well, beloved.” Mikney brings their joined hands to his lips, kissing her fingers; and Rhkadi sighs contentedly, pressing closer into his side.
Mikney drapes her arm over his chest, releasing her hand only to stroke his fingers over her petal-soft skin. “Do I please you, enchantress?”
Rhkadi lifts her head, presses a tender kiss to his cheek. “Very much so.”
He smiles, takes her hand and twines their fingers together. “And you would keep me in your service?”
“I suppose. For a while yet,” she teases, nuzzling into his neck. “The rest of your life should be sufficient.”
Mikney is looking forward to it.
Title: To Serve You
Author: airspaniel
Rating: soft NC-17
Pairing: Mikney/Rhkadi
Word Count: 1468
Notes: You may be interested to know that, as I was writing Rhkadi, the woman I was thinking of was Leonor Varela. She's Chilean, not Brazilian, but I think y'all know where my head was at. 0_o Plus, HOTT.
Summary: It seems as if he’s suspended in midair, and everything outside himself is only Rhkadi; only the sound of her breath and her heart, her scent, and the fire of her presence
“Close your eyes, beloved.”
Her voice is like silk, caressing his ears, his skin; surrounding him. Just as soft, just as sensuous, and just as disarming.
“Rhkadi,” Mikney sighs, complying with her wishes. He knows full well that she is capable of taking his sight, or replacing it, even if his eyes remained open; but there is something thrilling in the simple surrender of the act, the trust inherent in it.
The rushing of his heartbeat is not due to her magic alone.
She laughs, and it sounds like bells. “What is your wish, love?”
“My only wish is to be yours, my lady,” answers Mikney, slightly breathless in anticipation. “I am, as always, your devoted servant.”
He feels the answering curl of her lips like smoke down his spine, ribbons of violet and gold. “My servant, you say?” Rhkadi touches him, lightly, fingertips running from the crown of his head down his back, and he shivers.
And all at once the world changes, tumbling and spinning into a new creation, and Mikney, eyes closed, can only brace himself for Rhkadi’s desires. He can feel the heat of her body as she circles him, an almost physical presence against his skin, though she does not touch him. Not yet.
“Then perhaps you should serve me. Submit to my will,” she purrs, and the sound of it vibrates through the very core of Mikney’s being. “Show me how devoted you are.”
“Of course,” he replies, more a sigh than a sentence, and he’s no longer certain if he’s standing or lying down. It seems as if he’s suspended in midair, and everything outside himself is only Rhkadi; only the sound of her breath and her heart, her scent, and the fire of her presence.
And then - oh - she parts his lips with the barest brush of a fingertip, and she’s inside him; and Mikney can only gasp for breath, softly crying out as her magic sets him aflame.
Rhkadi whispers his name, full of worship and wonder, and he is overcome. She slides her finger past his lips, and Mikney suckles it gratefully as he shudders, anchoring himself with the salt sweet smoothness of her skin.
“You are so beautiful in your pleasure, beloved,” sighs Rhkadi, her voice low and intense with desire. “So beautiful when you come undone for me.” Mikney is helpless to suppress the small, hungry sound he makes at her words. He captures her finger gently between his teeth, heart still racing, but already eager for more; wanting to make Rhkadi writhe against him, make her pant and scream and clutch at him, her nails leaving fine red scratchmarks on his pale flesh.
Rhkadi laughs, drawing her finger away with a final, fleeting caress to his lower lip. “You want much,” she says, and he can hear the smile in her voice. It is true, he does want much, but what he wants most immediately is to see her; to trace the sleek lines of her body, her perfect face, with his eyes as well as his hands.
“Look at me,” she commands, granting his wish. By the gods, she is breathtaking; dark and endless eyes, the long, elegant curve of her neck as it slopes into her shoulder; every inch of her skin calling out for him to touch, to kiss.
His hands reach out of their own volition, and he is at first surprised when they stop short, but now he can feel the soft fabric around his wrists, blood-warm with the heat of his own body. Rhkadi grins, her eyes alight with mischief, pressing the trailing length of silk against her lips.
“I have bound you, my sorcerer.” She drags the iridescent green-gold up his chest; resting it against his throat as she leans in close enough to kiss. “And now you are at my mercy.”
“Then nothing has changed,” Mikney says, his breath mingling with hers, their lips almost touching. “For I have always been bound to you, and am eternally at your mercy.”
Rhkadi surges forward then, kissing him deeply, desperately; and he can feel how his words have affected her. Her hand, shaking slightly, threads into his hair to keep him close.
Mikney smiles into the kiss, nips at her full lower lip then soothes it with his tongue, gratified at the quiet, needy noise that escapes her. Then it is his turn to be tormented, when she shifts her weight on top of him; her long, lean legs folded on either side of his body as she teases his erection with the sweet slickness between them.
“Rhkadi,” Mikney moans low in his throat, bucking his hips up against her, and Rhkadi cries out, moving rhythmically against him in return. But neither of them can stand it for long, and soon Rhkadi slips her hand between their bodies, guiding him inside.
Her back arches as she takes him slow, a neverending, maddening slide into bliss until finally they are joined, and Mikney feels like he may never be able to breathe again. Like he would never again want to unless it was by the gods like this, just like this, together with Rhkadi, one in breath and heartbeat and body.
“Oh, beloved,” Rhkadi sighs; her elegant hands braced against his chest as she rocks her hips, gently at first but with a desperate need. Her fingers drift up over his shoulder, tracing the blue-black sigil there, one of so many that mark his ivory skin; and even though it isn’t active, Mikney still inhales sharply, wrists tugging at his bonds with the helpless desire to touch.
Rhkadi smoothes her hands up his arms, displacing the silk that had fallen across Mikney’s throat, and it slides away like a warm summer breeze, leaving goosebumps in its wake; one more sensation to add to the multitudes that threaten to drown him.
“I want to touch you,” Mikney begs, beginning to feel lost. Rhkadi’s hips are snapping faster, more erratically, and she’s close, he knows it. He wants to bring her over, to give her more, always more, and his fingers ache for wanting her.
Her back arches suddenly and her breath hitches on a gasp, and Mikney knows she sees his thoughts; can feel her inside him just as surely as she surrounds him. “Please, my love, please,” he pleads between breaths. “Let me touch you. Please, Rhkadi… release me.”
She shudders at her name on his lips, and no sooner is the silk gone than Mikney’s hands are on her waist, her hips; the perfect curves of her breasts. He leans up, taking one rose-pink nipple into his mouth and teasing it with his teeth and his tongue.
“Ah!” Rhkadi cries, cradling his head to her chest, clenching her other hand on the latticework headboard of their bed. Mikney skims his hands down to her hips, holding her tightly to him as the world begins to go white; the lines between their bodies disappearing and melding into one another until it seems they are one, a pure being of love and light and ecstasy.
Rhkadi is quivering now, above him and around him, breath falling out in a litany of yes and Mikney and now, beloved, now, please now, and he’s never, never been able to deny her.
“Rhkadi…”
Mikney gathers her close, just after; arms wound protectively around her, his trembling fingers winding through her long raven-black hair. She buries her face against his neck, lips open and pressed to his throat, a kiss to comfort, not consume. It takes a long time for their breathing to slow and become steady, and they both shiver when Rhkadi pulls away, sighing when they part.
She curls into his side, fingertips idly tracing over the symbols that mark Mikney’s skin; flitting from his side to his shoulder to his arm. The touch isn’t quite ticklish, but Mikney laughs anyway, low and contented. Not to be deterred, Rhkadi licks a lazy path up Mikney’s throat, affectionately nibbling at his earlobe.
“My lady is insatiable,” he chuckles, and he can feel her smile against his ear.
“And you would have it no other way.”
“You know me well, beloved.” Mikney brings their joined hands to his lips, kissing her fingers; and Rhkadi sighs contentedly, pressing closer into his side.
Mikney drapes her arm over his chest, releasing her hand only to stroke his fingers over her petal-soft skin. “Do I please you, enchantress?”
Rhkadi lifts her head, presses a tender kiss to his cheek. “Very much so.”
He smiles, takes her hand and twines their fingers together. “And you would keep me in your service?”
“I suppose. For a while yet,” she teases, nuzzling into his neck. “The rest of your life should be sufficient.”
Mikney is looking forward to it.