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[sweetsalome]

No joke, Salome changed her mind sixteen times when trying to decided if she wanted to meet her birth mom.  It wasn't that she was scared but there was a real thought and fear that she would just lose it in the middle of the conversation and she didn't want to lose it.  Her father would get upset at Amanda and it wasn't this woman's fault that

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[sweetsalome]

Rolling over on to her side she stretches out with a pout. Impossible indeed. That is simply no fair. He seems to be so fantastic at everything else he should be able to get it up in no time. Grinning finally she rolls on to her back and wraps an arm around him when he kisses her. Is there anything in the world that he won't give her? Well, yeah, some things, but he apparently makes up for it when he can

[soursanguine]

Guilt is a paltry waste of emotion. Richard can at least intellectually understand many things even if he doesn't actually feel them, but guilt--it astonishes him that people could actually allow themselves to feel such a thing. He looks back at those moments and they hammer the point home, and in a strange way the feel related in that they set the stage for their relationship now, but they're separate things. That was their relationship then, and in many ways it is still how he feels about her, protective and adoring, with a desire to love and teach. But it has evolved forward, for the better, and in real life once the big bad wolf eats the little girl in the red hood there's no getting her back out of his stomach--but that just means she's bound to be a part of him forever

[sweetsalome]

We take everything with us and leave a little bit of us behind

[soursanguine]

The feeling of her tight around him makes his eyes roll; he groans, the sound trickling down to a soft exhale in time with her sigh. He strokes her face and murmurs her name from behind his massive smile, kissing the corner of her mouth while his arms weave around her body. When he's in to the hilt, he rocks, rather than thrusts, each roll of his hips firm and deliberate within her

[sweetsalome]

There is a desire to consume and to be consumed. He tells her about his ache, about his want to wrap his hands around her, or to sink his teeth into her and she is not afraid. There is no fear or worry in her eyes or in her body when he tells her this. Even if she was absolutely certain that he was capable of such a thing she finds that she wouldn't want her life to end in any other way. Oh does she love him. In loving she aches for him, and in loving him she longs for him to end her ache and everything in her life that is not him

[soursanguine]

"My sweet girl." She says such sweet things, things that move even him. It's the kind of compliment he understands, wanting to depart in a specific person's arms. It's a deep thing, trusting someone to do you in, as deep as entrusting someone with your life. Why shouldn't she trust him with his death, he supposes? He brought her into this world, it's only appropriate that he should take her out someday

[sweetsalome]

This is probably not the best time to do this, but she finds her eyes hot and wet with tears. Is she ever not crying on him? Because it seems like the things that he says, and the moments they are together, tend to be highly emotional, not to mention she is a teenage girl and is prone to acts of extreme emotional. His swelling tends to be on the inside (and on the outside) and her's always seem to be on the outside. It is impossible not to react in such a way. His arms around her, holding her tight, kissing her and whispering against her skin

[soursanguine]

Of course it's the best time to do that. Her tears are beautiful, and, he's come to notice recently, thoroughly sexy. It seems like lately every time she cries he wants to wrap her up in his arms and cuddle her while he fucks her senseless. There's nothing so beautiful as all that raw emotion, and no clearer way to see the effect he has upon her. It's beautiful, it drives him mad, and madder still when she squeaks his name and hides her face against his neck to cry like she has a thousand times before

[sweetsalome]

His consoling is the sweetest thing there is, and the comfort she finds from him fucking her through it is both satisfying and arousing. A few tears certainly isn't going to stop either one of them. She wants him even if her face gets wet and her eyes start leaking helplessly. His arms keep her close, and his hips remind her that he is still very much there for her and there is life outside of her tears which is easy to lose sight of

[soursanguine]

As she whispers in his ear, Richard smiles softly, his hands drifting up and down the smooth skin of her back with lazy ease that comes in time with the rocking of their hips. "And I'll love you ten thousand more than that." The 'so there' is unspoken, and he turns his head to grin upon her before moving to kiss the saltwater tears that run so sweet down her cheeks. His tongue darts out across one, and he sighs, his fingertips ghosting across the curve of her shoulder blade

[sweetsalome]

Salome is more then okay with that, he can love her ten thousand more, and she will love him ten thousand after his, they can leap frog off of one another until the sun grows cold. There is no losers in this situation. It makes her smile actually when he tries to one up her on length of love

[soursanguine]

"That makes it even better." His grin is as much as leer as it is a glowing smile, and he kisses her other cheek until it, too, is mostly free of fresh tears. His own throat is damp until she runs her hand over it to rid him of it. "You're welcome to cry on me any time, baby, I love it when you do." And how.

"Messy, maybe, but I think it's beautiful. All that pure, sweet emotion pouring out of you." It's nothing he could possibly comprehend on any real level, but oh, God, he can certainly admire it. Especially in moments like these, when his entire body seems to be contained in that one point within hers, when his hands can't possibly touch her skin enough.

"That's what I like to hear, baby." He grins, devilish, and nips the tip of her nose. "You better remember that, young lady." He squeezes her tight and presses his hand to her abdomen, his lips capturing hers. "I'd hate to have to remind you."

[sweetsalome]

Oh she kisses and kisses him, all over his mouth, her hands over his back and his shoulders as she continues to squirm in his lap. What a wicked position, so innocent and vile all at the same time. Any little girl could sit in her father's lap and talk about what she is feeling or how her day went. But this. This is her impaling herself on him over and over in little tiny thrusts that work to grind more of herself down on top of him, that work to hit that spot inside of her that just completely throws her over the edge and makes her scream with pleasure.

So good. So very nice. Her hands all over him and his hands all over her, she can breathe up against his chest and sink her teeth into his collar, sucking on the bite of skin all while she grinds down on top of him. She wants to tear him apart, to grip and rip him till her fingers stop aching and all she can feel is the squish and crunch of him under her nails and between her fingers.

"You won't have to ever remind me, I'm yours."

[soursanguine]

Goddamn, reassuring her is a good thing. Not only does it do its job, but it nets him this as a reward--all those pretty tears, all these beautiful kisses. As her teeth press into his skin he groans; his fingers tangle up into her hair, stroking her scalp in encouragement. One arm around the small of her back, he leans forward and leans her back to give him access to her neck and shoulders. He plants a few boiling open-mouthed kisses upon her clavicle, his tongue darting out against her skin while he works his way down to her breast.

Like father, like daughter. He could tear her limb from limb in moments like these, as a reaction to the beautiful, suffocating intimacy between the two of them. He lifts his head to grin at her promise, tongue ghosting against her lips while the hand around her back finds a place to play between her legs and double her pleasure. "No? Even if I'm the wickedest, cruelest man who ever lived, you'll still be mine?"

[sweetsalome]

"It depends if you were being wicked and cruel to me or to someone else." Because Salome is nothing if not pragmatic in these types of situations. A stretch out over the bed and she offers herself up to him, her throat, her breasts, all of it in a deep sigh. So, so good, he feels like heaven on top of her. She likes to feel the weight of him when they are together like this. It's a reassuring feeling a sign to know that he is very much still there, especially when his fingers find their way in between her legs and she cries out, her back arching and a shudder running down the length of her spine.

"I'll still be yours, I'll be yours until the stars fall from the sky." Her hands through his hair and her head ducking to capture his mouth in a brutally hard kiss. That's when she tries to wiggle away from him, and turn over. The weight of him on top of her reminds her how good it feels when he is taking her from behind. She wants him to push her down into the mattress with the power of those hips.

[soursanguine]

"To someone else, of course, princess." He grins, one hand fitting to the throat he runs his mouth over as if in absolute worship. "How could I ever be cruel to you, my darling girl? What blasphemy that would be." Unless she deserved it, but he finds that unlikely. Probably. Hopefully