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There had been no hesitation in bringing Anastasia to her home. There was nowhere else for them to go. Most her family should be at the estate in Mansa. And even if one of her sisters was in residence, it would hardly be the first time she had brought a drunk friend home. Her elder sister had long given up on trying to keep her in line. Her younger sister’s curiosity was far outweighed by her meekness. They would be safe here, behind closed doors.
The H’Isazari was a place of grandeur. From the green gardens to the tapestries that lined the manor walls, there was no shortage of display of her family’s wealth. Yet, Chione hardly noticed such things, far too accustomed to them. Besides, her thoughts were focused entirely on the woman beside her. They were both shaken from the violent turn the evening had taken after Hena’s arrival. There were more emotions at war within the noblewoman than she typically felt in a week. Ana had asked her to take her away... surely that meant she didn’t blame her for how badly things had gone. Yet some part of her worried this might chase the Greek away.
After all, Hena already provided her with everything she could want. She had only just met Chione, even if their introduction had been more intimate than most... why would she place her above a man who gave her everything? Would she regret her choice when the sun’s light illuminated the day?
She guided the smaller woman to her rooms, snapping at the slaves to leave refreshments outside the door. They were not to be disturbed. Her friend was in dire need of rest. They were used to her coming and going at all hours and such requests were hardly unusual. Once the doors were shut behind them, Chione could finally give her guest the attention she deserved. She led her to sit on the edge of her bed, leaning over her slightly. Her hands delicately cupped her face, pushing back the dark locks to study the woman hiding beneath. “What do you need? What can I do?” she whispered, pale blue eyes searching for an answer in her face.
Her eyes caught sight of the redness at her throat. Suddenly, tears were blurring her vision. “This is all my fault... he hurt you because of me...” Chione knelt before the Greek woman, hands falling to rest upon her thighs, staring up at her. “How can I ever thank you for such bravery?” She knew how she wanted to show her gratitude. Tangled in the sheets, her lips soothing every ache she felt. But would Ana want that? Now that she may have lost everything on Chi’s behalf? Would that exquisite passion they’d shared before be enough?
She leaned forward, nuzzling lightly against her leg as she looked up at the woman who had already ensnared her more than any lover before. “Tell me how to soothe your spirit.”
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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There had been no hesitation in bringing Anastasia to her home. There was nowhere else for them to go. Most her family should be at the estate in Mansa. And even if one of her sisters was in residence, it would hardly be the first time she had brought a drunk friend home. Her elder sister had long given up on trying to keep her in line. Her younger sister’s curiosity was far outweighed by her meekness. They would be safe here, behind closed doors.
The H’Isazari was a place of grandeur. From the green gardens to the tapestries that lined the manor walls, there was no shortage of display of her family’s wealth. Yet, Chione hardly noticed such things, far too accustomed to them. Besides, her thoughts were focused entirely on the woman beside her. They were both shaken from the violent turn the evening had taken after Hena’s arrival. There were more emotions at war within the noblewoman than she typically felt in a week. Ana had asked her to take her away... surely that meant she didn’t blame her for how badly things had gone. Yet some part of her worried this might chase the Greek away.
After all, Hena already provided her with everything she could want. She had only just met Chione, even if their introduction had been more intimate than most... why would she place her above a man who gave her everything? Would she regret her choice when the sun’s light illuminated the day?
She guided the smaller woman to her rooms, snapping at the slaves to leave refreshments outside the door. They were not to be disturbed. Her friend was in dire need of rest. They were used to her coming and going at all hours and such requests were hardly unusual. Once the doors were shut behind them, Chione could finally give her guest the attention she deserved. She led her to sit on the edge of her bed, leaning over her slightly. Her hands delicately cupped her face, pushing back the dark locks to study the woman hiding beneath. “What do you need? What can I do?” she whispered, pale blue eyes searching for an answer in her face.
Her eyes caught sight of the redness at her throat. Suddenly, tears were blurring her vision. “This is all my fault... he hurt you because of me...” Chione knelt before the Greek woman, hands falling to rest upon her thighs, staring up at her. “How can I ever thank you for such bravery?” She knew how she wanted to show her gratitude. Tangled in the sheets, her lips soothing every ache she felt. But would Ana want that? Now that she may have lost everything on Chi’s behalf? Would that exquisite passion they’d shared before be enough?
She leaned forward, nuzzling lightly against her leg as she looked up at the woman who had already ensnared her more than any lover before. “Tell me how to soothe your spirit.”
There had been no hesitation in bringing Anastasia to her home. There was nowhere else for them to go. Most her family should be at the estate in Mansa. And even if one of her sisters was in residence, it would hardly be the first time she had brought a drunk friend home. Her elder sister had long given up on trying to keep her in line. Her younger sister’s curiosity was far outweighed by her meekness. They would be safe here, behind closed doors.
The H’Isazari was a place of grandeur. From the green gardens to the tapestries that lined the manor walls, there was no shortage of display of her family’s wealth. Yet, Chione hardly noticed such things, far too accustomed to them. Besides, her thoughts were focused entirely on the woman beside her. They were both shaken from the violent turn the evening had taken after Hena’s arrival. There were more emotions at war within the noblewoman than she typically felt in a week. Ana had asked her to take her away... surely that meant she didn’t blame her for how badly things had gone. Yet some part of her worried this might chase the Greek away.
After all, Hena already provided her with everything she could want. She had only just met Chione, even if their introduction had been more intimate than most... why would she place her above a man who gave her everything? Would she regret her choice when the sun’s light illuminated the day?
She guided the smaller woman to her rooms, snapping at the slaves to leave refreshments outside the door. They were not to be disturbed. Her friend was in dire need of rest. They were used to her coming and going at all hours and such requests were hardly unusual. Once the doors were shut behind them, Chione could finally give her guest the attention she deserved. She led her to sit on the edge of her bed, leaning over her slightly. Her hands delicately cupped her face, pushing back the dark locks to study the woman hiding beneath. “What do you need? What can I do?” she whispered, pale blue eyes searching for an answer in her face.
Her eyes caught sight of the redness at her throat. Suddenly, tears were blurring her vision. “This is all my fault... he hurt you because of me...” Chione knelt before the Greek woman, hands falling to rest upon her thighs, staring up at her. “How can I ever thank you for such bravery?” She knew how she wanted to show her gratitude. Tangled in the sheets, her lips soothing every ache she felt. But would Ana want that? Now that she may have lost everything on Chi’s behalf? Would that exquisite passion they’d shared before be enough?
She leaned forward, nuzzling lightly against her leg as she looked up at the woman who had already ensnared her more than any lover before. “Tell me how to soothe your spirit.”
Wherever it was that Chione wanted to take Ana, she would follow. Still, she felt the sting of Akhenaten's fingers wrapped around her throat. The tinge of bruises was softened by the lull of copious, excessive wine let to drain down her gullet. She felt the echo of her intoxication in her every step, in the way the warmth of Chi's palm pressed into her own seemed to seep heat in and away from her in the same instance. Innately, she felt the crumbling of a utopia. The impressions she'd had of Hena were shattered by his treatment, and she blamed herself for being so foolish as to think herself immune to his rage.
He bought you a house. Clearly he favours you.
Did he, though? Was Anastasia just the most precious of a string of lovers? She didn't know, and right now, the nagging thought worming itself again and again into her mind... it was agony, as if she were prodding a gaping wound with her fingertip.
This is my fault, for keeping Chione there, she convinced herself. She let herself fall into the trenches of that despair. For exposing Chione to such a sight, to involving her in something that so easily could've been avoided. But, in the midst of her pity, she knew the cause. The powerful attachment had wedged itself already, a nagging fascination that compelled her to keep the noblewoman around her. Chione, more than the wine that numbed her heart to its aching, or the poppy that she wanted to take to further ease her pains...
She was intoxicating.
A tune calls to me, a poignant melody softer than any music.
She didn't know what it could be, but she knew that she needed it. She heard the woman's rushed tones delivering snapping orders, so similar to Akhenaten's and yet... she felt safe. She was reminded of the opulence both were given over to, the lavish surroundings and finery that even the slaves bore... it would've been fascinating if she could really see any of it. No, the world was a blur of movement and voices, All she could tell for certain was the sensation of being sat down on the bed, when Chione's gentle touch replaced the echoed grasp of Lord Akhenaten H'Sheifa.
Hollow orbs bright from her rampant intoxication showed little sign of life, but the woman's words elicited a flicker of recognition. The beseeching tone she took in those whispered words. Anastasia's eyes seemed intent on taking her in, for Chione drew into greater focus, and all she could see was the tears that sprung to life at the sight of Ana's throat.
"What do you need? What can I do?"
Anastasia hadn't answered it then, but Chione moved on and she blamed herself. She asked how she could be thanked for speaking the truth, for throwing herself into the fanning flames of Hena's anger to defend Chione's honour.
That wasn't my Hena, she assured herself. No, it had to be some monster wearing his skin.
It can't be...
She thought back to just days before, a couple of weeks at the most, when he'd given her a place to call her own. When he'd asked her to stay with him, to stray to no other men. And yet... he insulted her compliance by attacking her new friend, attacking the Greek herself.
I'm a fool...
What else could she call herself, for trusting again? She laughed, when at last she emerged from her own mind. She felt her jaw pushing against Chione's hand, a low, but mellifluous sound that seemed venomous, contrary to Anastasia's measured tones gilded with honey and lashed from a tongue of silver.
An arm curved around Chione' waist, intent on pulling her flush against him. She tipped her head so that her chin rested between the woman's breasts. Her hands trailed between the beaded fabric of that network dressed that did so little to cover her body from scrutiny. In a nation where clothes were ornaments, having such a canvas to place them on was truly a blessing. Anastasia allowed her touch to trace the curve of Chione's spine, the other hand skipping over to sift as close to her nape as Ana could reach without rising.
"This isn't your fault. It is mine, my naivete for believing that we could all be friends. No... Hena saw to it that this will never be true."
A simple answer, but it was paired with the fallen star guiding her new lover to the bed beside her. Straddled by Ana in a fluid motion, heavy breath caught in her lungs as she looked at the vision beneath her.
"Don't thank me. Allow me to forget. Don't apologize. Give me something to feel that isn't..."
She raised her hand to her own neck, pressing painfully against her own flesh. Tears splashed against bronzed flesh before she added,
"Make it stop hurting, Chi," she begged her before leaning close to claim a kiss from the Egyptian.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Wherever it was that Chione wanted to take Ana, she would follow. Still, she felt the sting of Akhenaten's fingers wrapped around her throat. The tinge of bruises was softened by the lull of copious, excessive wine let to drain down her gullet. She felt the echo of her intoxication in her every step, in the way the warmth of Chi's palm pressed into her own seemed to seep heat in and away from her in the same instance. Innately, she felt the crumbling of a utopia. The impressions she'd had of Hena were shattered by his treatment, and she blamed herself for being so foolish as to think herself immune to his rage.
He bought you a house. Clearly he favours you.
Did he, though? Was Anastasia just the most precious of a string of lovers? She didn't know, and right now, the nagging thought worming itself again and again into her mind... it was agony, as if she were prodding a gaping wound with her fingertip.
This is my fault, for keeping Chione there, she convinced herself. She let herself fall into the trenches of that despair. For exposing Chione to such a sight, to involving her in something that so easily could've been avoided. But, in the midst of her pity, she knew the cause. The powerful attachment had wedged itself already, a nagging fascination that compelled her to keep the noblewoman around her. Chione, more than the wine that numbed her heart to its aching, or the poppy that she wanted to take to further ease her pains...
She was intoxicating.
A tune calls to me, a poignant melody softer than any music.
She didn't know what it could be, but she knew that she needed it. She heard the woman's rushed tones delivering snapping orders, so similar to Akhenaten's and yet... she felt safe. She was reminded of the opulence both were given over to, the lavish surroundings and finery that even the slaves bore... it would've been fascinating if she could really see any of it. No, the world was a blur of movement and voices, All she could tell for certain was the sensation of being sat down on the bed, when Chione's gentle touch replaced the echoed grasp of Lord Akhenaten H'Sheifa.
Hollow orbs bright from her rampant intoxication showed little sign of life, but the woman's words elicited a flicker of recognition. The beseeching tone she took in those whispered words. Anastasia's eyes seemed intent on taking her in, for Chione drew into greater focus, and all she could see was the tears that sprung to life at the sight of Ana's throat.
"What do you need? What can I do?"
Anastasia hadn't answered it then, but Chione moved on and she blamed herself. She asked how she could be thanked for speaking the truth, for throwing herself into the fanning flames of Hena's anger to defend Chione's honour.
That wasn't my Hena, she assured herself. No, it had to be some monster wearing his skin.
It can't be...
She thought back to just days before, a couple of weeks at the most, when he'd given her a place to call her own. When he'd asked her to stay with him, to stray to no other men. And yet... he insulted her compliance by attacking her new friend, attacking the Greek herself.
I'm a fool...
What else could she call herself, for trusting again? She laughed, when at last she emerged from her own mind. She felt her jaw pushing against Chione's hand, a low, but mellifluous sound that seemed venomous, contrary to Anastasia's measured tones gilded with honey and lashed from a tongue of silver.
An arm curved around Chione' waist, intent on pulling her flush against him. She tipped her head so that her chin rested between the woman's breasts. Her hands trailed between the beaded fabric of that network dressed that did so little to cover her body from scrutiny. In a nation where clothes were ornaments, having such a canvas to place them on was truly a blessing. Anastasia allowed her touch to trace the curve of Chione's spine, the other hand skipping over to sift as close to her nape as Ana could reach without rising.
"This isn't your fault. It is mine, my naivete for believing that we could all be friends. No... Hena saw to it that this will never be true."
A simple answer, but it was paired with the fallen star guiding her new lover to the bed beside her. Straddled by Ana in a fluid motion, heavy breath caught in her lungs as she looked at the vision beneath her.
"Don't thank me. Allow me to forget. Don't apologize. Give me something to feel that isn't..."
She raised her hand to her own neck, pressing painfully against her own flesh. Tears splashed against bronzed flesh before she added,
"Make it stop hurting, Chi," she begged her before leaning close to claim a kiss from the Egyptian.
Wherever it was that Chione wanted to take Ana, she would follow. Still, she felt the sting of Akhenaten's fingers wrapped around her throat. The tinge of bruises was softened by the lull of copious, excessive wine let to drain down her gullet. She felt the echo of her intoxication in her every step, in the way the warmth of Chi's palm pressed into her own seemed to seep heat in and away from her in the same instance. Innately, she felt the crumbling of a utopia. The impressions she'd had of Hena were shattered by his treatment, and she blamed herself for being so foolish as to think herself immune to his rage.
He bought you a house. Clearly he favours you.
Did he, though? Was Anastasia just the most precious of a string of lovers? She didn't know, and right now, the nagging thought worming itself again and again into her mind... it was agony, as if she were prodding a gaping wound with her fingertip.
This is my fault, for keeping Chione there, she convinced herself. She let herself fall into the trenches of that despair. For exposing Chione to such a sight, to involving her in something that so easily could've been avoided. But, in the midst of her pity, she knew the cause. The powerful attachment had wedged itself already, a nagging fascination that compelled her to keep the noblewoman around her. Chione, more than the wine that numbed her heart to its aching, or the poppy that she wanted to take to further ease her pains...
She was intoxicating.
A tune calls to me, a poignant melody softer than any music.
She didn't know what it could be, but she knew that she needed it. She heard the woman's rushed tones delivering snapping orders, so similar to Akhenaten's and yet... she felt safe. She was reminded of the opulence both were given over to, the lavish surroundings and finery that even the slaves bore... it would've been fascinating if she could really see any of it. No, the world was a blur of movement and voices, All she could tell for certain was the sensation of being sat down on the bed, when Chione's gentle touch replaced the echoed grasp of Lord Akhenaten H'Sheifa.
Hollow orbs bright from her rampant intoxication showed little sign of life, but the woman's words elicited a flicker of recognition. The beseeching tone she took in those whispered words. Anastasia's eyes seemed intent on taking her in, for Chione drew into greater focus, and all she could see was the tears that sprung to life at the sight of Ana's throat.
"What do you need? What can I do?"
Anastasia hadn't answered it then, but Chione moved on and she blamed herself. She asked how she could be thanked for speaking the truth, for throwing herself into the fanning flames of Hena's anger to defend Chione's honour.
That wasn't my Hena, she assured herself. No, it had to be some monster wearing his skin.
It can't be...
She thought back to just days before, a couple of weeks at the most, when he'd given her a place to call her own. When he'd asked her to stay with him, to stray to no other men. And yet... he insulted her compliance by attacking her new friend, attacking the Greek herself.
I'm a fool...
What else could she call herself, for trusting again? She laughed, when at last she emerged from her own mind. She felt her jaw pushing against Chione's hand, a low, but mellifluous sound that seemed venomous, contrary to Anastasia's measured tones gilded with honey and lashed from a tongue of silver.
An arm curved around Chione' waist, intent on pulling her flush against him. She tipped her head so that her chin rested between the woman's breasts. Her hands trailed between the beaded fabric of that network dressed that did so little to cover her body from scrutiny. In a nation where clothes were ornaments, having such a canvas to place them on was truly a blessing. Anastasia allowed her touch to trace the curve of Chione's spine, the other hand skipping over to sift as close to her nape as Ana could reach without rising.
"This isn't your fault. It is mine, my naivete for believing that we could all be friends. No... Hena saw to it that this will never be true."
A simple answer, but it was paired with the fallen star guiding her new lover to the bed beside her. Straddled by Ana in a fluid motion, heavy breath caught in her lungs as she looked at the vision beneath her.
"Don't thank me. Allow me to forget. Don't apologize. Give me something to feel that isn't..."
She raised her hand to her own neck, pressing painfully against her own flesh. Tears splashed against bronzed flesh before she added,
"Make it stop hurting, Chi," she begged her before leaning close to claim a kiss from the Egyptian.
It frightened her to see the hollowness that lurked within Ana’s dark eyes. She knew that the alcohol had tightened its hold over the petite woman, especially given the way she’d quickly drank those two goblets worth at the end. She had felt it in the unsteadiness of her steps. But to see her gaze seem so entirely lifeless... Chione knew it went deeper than mere intoxication.
Of course it was. How could it not be?
After what had just happened... Chione didn’t even know what Ana must be thinking let alone feeling. She had never had anything like love her in life. She assumed that was what she must have shared with Hena. After all, he’d bought her a villa to call her own. That wasn’t something a noble did for just anyone. That was a statement. And in an instant, Chione had soured that with her mere presence. How could Ana not resent her for that?
Had she only asked her to lead her away because she thought she had no where else to turn?
The sound that finally came for from Ana’s sweet lips had her looking up with concern. Did she think Chione a fool for her concern? At first her gaze could only narrow, trying to summon the armor that she always kept between herself and the world. Preparing for the rejection that she always feared lurked just out of sight.
Instead, she felt a slender arm wrap around her waist, pulling her against the Greek woman. She felt Ana’s head dip to press into her chest, and without thinking, her arms wrapped loosely around the smaller woman. Her eyes closed as she felt those delicate fingers tracing along her spine. What was the effect this foreigner had over her? Was it merely from a decade’s worth of fantasizing finally made flesh? Or was it the woman herself? Chione couldn’t be certain, but there was something about her that had crumbled all of the Egyptians defenses in a few hours.
Her eyes fluttered open as Ana began to speak. She wanted to protest, to reassure her somehow. But there was no time to find the words. Not when one instant she was being tugged to the bed and then suddenly Ana was over her. She instinctively leaned back slightly, taking in the sight of the woman above her.
She had always relished the way a man’s eyes lingered over her beauty, the way another’s touch could drown out all her doubts and fears. Yet she never felt a pull to them more than she did to the substances she indulged in. Ana though... the sight of her left Chione oddly close to breathless. But she couldn’t think about that now. Not when she saw the tears begin to fall. Felt them against her skin.
Her hands tugged Ana closer, even as she leaned forward to close the distance between them. She might not know the words to make anything better, but the ways a body could erase the pain with delight... that was something she was well-versed in. Their lips met in a tender kiss, one hand snaking to the nape of the Greek’s neck, fingers threading into her dark hair. She kissed her slowly, deeply, sucking at her lip as she pulled away. Her lips shifted to move over the pale skin of her cheeks, kissed along the very path of her tears. One cheek, then the other.
Then her head dipped lower, along her jaw, trailing to her ear. Gentle, whisper soft kisses against the inflamed skin left behind by a man’s rage. Willing away the pain that lingered. Promising something sweeter in store. Her hands shifted to slide down the sides of her body, settling first at her hips, fingers digging in slightly before curving around to cup her behind, tugging her tighter against Chione herself.
The Egyptian slowly leaned back, pulling Ana down atop her, only to gently roll the Greek onto her back, propping herself up on her side next to her. She pulled back enough to meet her lover’s eyes, staring into them intensely. Her fingers traced the line from her temple to her jaw, thumb brushing over her lips. “Just let it fade away,” she commanded softly. “Lose yourself in the pleasure and there’s nothing left to remember.”
With that, she leaned forward, claiming her lips once more, willing away all the heartache. Her hand traveled down her chest, over her abdomen and down her thighs, tugging at the fabric she wore to slip beneath, seeking her center, the one touch that could banish all thoughts.
“Open yourself to me,” she whispered against Ana’s mouth, hand seeking to part her thighs even as her tongue darted out to run along her lips, begging entrance. Let me in...
This character is currently a work in progress.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It frightened her to see the hollowness that lurked within Ana’s dark eyes. She knew that the alcohol had tightened its hold over the petite woman, especially given the way she’d quickly drank those two goblets worth at the end. She had felt it in the unsteadiness of her steps. But to see her gaze seem so entirely lifeless... Chione knew it went deeper than mere intoxication.
Of course it was. How could it not be?
After what had just happened... Chione didn’t even know what Ana must be thinking let alone feeling. She had never had anything like love her in life. She assumed that was what she must have shared with Hena. After all, he’d bought her a villa to call her own. That wasn’t something a noble did for just anyone. That was a statement. And in an instant, Chione had soured that with her mere presence. How could Ana not resent her for that?
Had she only asked her to lead her away because she thought she had no where else to turn?
The sound that finally came for from Ana’s sweet lips had her looking up with concern. Did she think Chione a fool for her concern? At first her gaze could only narrow, trying to summon the armor that she always kept between herself and the world. Preparing for the rejection that she always feared lurked just out of sight.
Instead, she felt a slender arm wrap around her waist, pulling her against the Greek woman. She felt Ana’s head dip to press into her chest, and without thinking, her arms wrapped loosely around the smaller woman. Her eyes closed as she felt those delicate fingers tracing along her spine. What was the effect this foreigner had over her? Was it merely from a decade’s worth of fantasizing finally made flesh? Or was it the woman herself? Chione couldn’t be certain, but there was something about her that had crumbled all of the Egyptians defenses in a few hours.
Her eyes fluttered open as Ana began to speak. She wanted to protest, to reassure her somehow. But there was no time to find the words. Not when one instant she was being tugged to the bed and then suddenly Ana was over her. She instinctively leaned back slightly, taking in the sight of the woman above her.
She had always relished the way a man’s eyes lingered over her beauty, the way another’s touch could drown out all her doubts and fears. Yet she never felt a pull to them more than she did to the substances she indulged in. Ana though... the sight of her left Chione oddly close to breathless. But she couldn’t think about that now. Not when she saw the tears begin to fall. Felt them against her skin.
Her hands tugged Ana closer, even as she leaned forward to close the distance between them. She might not know the words to make anything better, but the ways a body could erase the pain with delight... that was something she was well-versed in. Their lips met in a tender kiss, one hand snaking to the nape of the Greek’s neck, fingers threading into her dark hair. She kissed her slowly, deeply, sucking at her lip as she pulled away. Her lips shifted to move over the pale skin of her cheeks, kissed along the very path of her tears. One cheek, then the other.
Then her head dipped lower, along her jaw, trailing to her ear. Gentle, whisper soft kisses against the inflamed skin left behind by a man’s rage. Willing away the pain that lingered. Promising something sweeter in store. Her hands shifted to slide down the sides of her body, settling first at her hips, fingers digging in slightly before curving around to cup her behind, tugging her tighter against Chione herself.
The Egyptian slowly leaned back, pulling Ana down atop her, only to gently roll the Greek onto her back, propping herself up on her side next to her. She pulled back enough to meet her lover’s eyes, staring into them intensely. Her fingers traced the line from her temple to her jaw, thumb brushing over her lips. “Just let it fade away,” she commanded softly. “Lose yourself in the pleasure and there’s nothing left to remember.”
With that, she leaned forward, claiming her lips once more, willing away all the heartache. Her hand traveled down her chest, over her abdomen and down her thighs, tugging at the fabric she wore to slip beneath, seeking her center, the one touch that could banish all thoughts.
“Open yourself to me,” she whispered against Ana’s mouth, hand seeking to part her thighs even as her tongue darted out to run along her lips, begging entrance. Let me in...
It frightened her to see the hollowness that lurked within Ana’s dark eyes. She knew that the alcohol had tightened its hold over the petite woman, especially given the way she’d quickly drank those two goblets worth at the end. She had felt it in the unsteadiness of her steps. But to see her gaze seem so entirely lifeless... Chione knew it went deeper than mere intoxication.
Of course it was. How could it not be?
After what had just happened... Chione didn’t even know what Ana must be thinking let alone feeling. She had never had anything like love her in life. She assumed that was what she must have shared with Hena. After all, he’d bought her a villa to call her own. That wasn’t something a noble did for just anyone. That was a statement. And in an instant, Chione had soured that with her mere presence. How could Ana not resent her for that?
Had she only asked her to lead her away because she thought she had no where else to turn?
The sound that finally came for from Ana’s sweet lips had her looking up with concern. Did she think Chione a fool for her concern? At first her gaze could only narrow, trying to summon the armor that she always kept between herself and the world. Preparing for the rejection that she always feared lurked just out of sight.
Instead, she felt a slender arm wrap around her waist, pulling her against the Greek woman. She felt Ana’s head dip to press into her chest, and without thinking, her arms wrapped loosely around the smaller woman. Her eyes closed as she felt those delicate fingers tracing along her spine. What was the effect this foreigner had over her? Was it merely from a decade’s worth of fantasizing finally made flesh? Or was it the woman herself? Chione couldn’t be certain, but there was something about her that had crumbled all of the Egyptians defenses in a few hours.
Her eyes fluttered open as Ana began to speak. She wanted to protest, to reassure her somehow. But there was no time to find the words. Not when one instant she was being tugged to the bed and then suddenly Ana was over her. She instinctively leaned back slightly, taking in the sight of the woman above her.
She had always relished the way a man’s eyes lingered over her beauty, the way another’s touch could drown out all her doubts and fears. Yet she never felt a pull to them more than she did to the substances she indulged in. Ana though... the sight of her left Chione oddly close to breathless. But she couldn’t think about that now. Not when she saw the tears begin to fall. Felt them against her skin.
Her hands tugged Ana closer, even as she leaned forward to close the distance between them. She might not know the words to make anything better, but the ways a body could erase the pain with delight... that was something she was well-versed in. Their lips met in a tender kiss, one hand snaking to the nape of the Greek’s neck, fingers threading into her dark hair. She kissed her slowly, deeply, sucking at her lip as she pulled away. Her lips shifted to move over the pale skin of her cheeks, kissed along the very path of her tears. One cheek, then the other.
Then her head dipped lower, along her jaw, trailing to her ear. Gentle, whisper soft kisses against the inflamed skin left behind by a man’s rage. Willing away the pain that lingered. Promising something sweeter in store. Her hands shifted to slide down the sides of her body, settling first at her hips, fingers digging in slightly before curving around to cup her behind, tugging her tighter against Chione herself.
The Egyptian slowly leaned back, pulling Ana down atop her, only to gently roll the Greek onto her back, propping herself up on her side next to her. She pulled back enough to meet her lover’s eyes, staring into them intensely. Her fingers traced the line from her temple to her jaw, thumb brushing over her lips. “Just let it fade away,” she commanded softly. “Lose yourself in the pleasure and there’s nothing left to remember.”
With that, she leaned forward, claiming her lips once more, willing away all the heartache. Her hand traveled down her chest, over her abdomen and down her thighs, tugging at the fabric she wore to slip beneath, seeking her center, the one touch that could banish all thoughts.
“Open yourself to me,” she whispered against Ana’s mouth, hand seeking to part her thighs even as her tongue darted out to run along her lips, begging entrance. Let me in...
To forget.
Everything that was Anastasia was an effort to do that. Absolved of a helpless past by the flames of rebirth, the young and captured Calliope of Aetaea burned away. But, the scared sixteen year old girl never failed to stare her in the eye, in the midst of chilling dreams and waking nightmares. More than the voice of Alector echoing through the night was the imagination that ran wild, the fantasies of a life given over to fear.
But, she always lived in fear. Anastasia of the Fallen Star could not escape it, no matter how strong her efforts were. Fear, regret, the manacles that bound through the eras. She realized that, when she imagined the echo of Alector in Akhenaten's features. A milder and younger embodiment of her fears, Anastasia could try to drink it away, but there was only one thing that'd absolved her in the past...
She imagined a scarlet wisp, a pale countenance, carved from the marble of the Aphrodisias.
If Anastasia missed Greece for one thing, it was the fact that she missed the Harimtu, Euterpe of Midas. A love lost to circumstance, still the siren carried the lessons learned, an affection left to simmer away, but never run rancid or rendered unfeeling.
Now?
Chione walked those same steps. She put herself in the same paces that the Harimtu had, offering her absolution in the form of exquisite beauty and pleasure stronger than the pull of any drug.
And in those sweet promises, Anastasia found herself lost, vulnerable to the gentle affections of concern and the lavishing of attention while her heart circled the pits of Tartarus. Words alone did not contain the flame needed to burn her despair away.
I made my life on words, and yet... words have never helped me reconcile...
Her thoughts were clipped in the wake of Chione's lips meeting hers. As Chione's fingers snaked into her hair and gripped at her nape. She relished in the pressure of her hair pulled back by a careful hand. Then, the kiss deepened. Eagerly, tongues entwined and Anastasia threw herself by the wayside, all too eager to serve in this mutual compliance with the lust that buried altogether more... dangerous feelings.
Then, Chione did something altogether unexpected. Pressed into the Egyptian as she was, she could feel the rabid tick of an unsettled heart in her own chest. Was Chione's just as erratic? Her numbed senses wilted her ability to feel it, so overwhelmed by all that she offered so freely. She could not lament it genuinely, missing that knowledge, but... it was missing. If she remembered any doubts in this evening, it might've been the single reservation, that Chione's heart might not have beat so unsteadily as hers.
She traced Anastasia's tears with her lips, drying them against heated lips that'd just claimed hers. Obedient to the Egyptian's whims, Anastasia allowed herself to fall pliant onto the bed next to her. Her eyes fell shut in that luxurious moment, when her back met rich linens and bedding. She opened her eyes just in time to meet Chione's, those orbs dulled just moments before containing a spark of life. Her lips, however, were curved in a wide smile, a crooked, drunken expression.
Chione's figure looming over her, her eyes intensely boring into her very soul...
She preened under this goddess' attentions.
She brushed her temple into Chione's touch, up until that digit traced over her lips next.
"Just let it fade away..."
And it was gone.
"Lose yourself in the pleasure..."
And it was done.
"And there's nothing left to remember..."
Untrue.
"I'll remember this," she assured the woman, just before her lips were claimed again. Chione's fingertips sought to rend fabric apart from her flesh, to expose her to greater and greater privilege, access to her body that was all-too-eagerly given over to her. Chione entreated Anastasia to part her lips in a moan, the sound muffled against the Egyptian. She pressed into her, tongues meeting in an eager dance just as her legs parted in instinctive obedience, so that Chione could do as she pleased to her.
Anastasia could not resist her, even if she'd wanted to.
But, she didn't.
She was easily given over to Chione's machinations, nodding at the last whisper given over to her.
"I'm yours..." she assured her.
She wanted... needed...
More.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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To forget.
Everything that was Anastasia was an effort to do that. Absolved of a helpless past by the flames of rebirth, the young and captured Calliope of Aetaea burned away. But, the scared sixteen year old girl never failed to stare her in the eye, in the midst of chilling dreams and waking nightmares. More than the voice of Alector echoing through the night was the imagination that ran wild, the fantasies of a life given over to fear.
But, she always lived in fear. Anastasia of the Fallen Star could not escape it, no matter how strong her efforts were. Fear, regret, the manacles that bound through the eras. She realized that, when she imagined the echo of Alector in Akhenaten's features. A milder and younger embodiment of her fears, Anastasia could try to drink it away, but there was only one thing that'd absolved her in the past...
She imagined a scarlet wisp, a pale countenance, carved from the marble of the Aphrodisias.
If Anastasia missed Greece for one thing, it was the fact that she missed the Harimtu, Euterpe of Midas. A love lost to circumstance, still the siren carried the lessons learned, an affection left to simmer away, but never run rancid or rendered unfeeling.
Now?
Chione walked those same steps. She put herself in the same paces that the Harimtu had, offering her absolution in the form of exquisite beauty and pleasure stronger than the pull of any drug.
And in those sweet promises, Anastasia found herself lost, vulnerable to the gentle affections of concern and the lavishing of attention while her heart circled the pits of Tartarus. Words alone did not contain the flame needed to burn her despair away.
I made my life on words, and yet... words have never helped me reconcile...
Her thoughts were clipped in the wake of Chione's lips meeting hers. As Chione's fingers snaked into her hair and gripped at her nape. She relished in the pressure of her hair pulled back by a careful hand. Then, the kiss deepened. Eagerly, tongues entwined and Anastasia threw herself by the wayside, all too eager to serve in this mutual compliance with the lust that buried altogether more... dangerous feelings.
Then, Chione did something altogether unexpected. Pressed into the Egyptian as she was, she could feel the rabid tick of an unsettled heart in her own chest. Was Chione's just as erratic? Her numbed senses wilted her ability to feel it, so overwhelmed by all that she offered so freely. She could not lament it genuinely, missing that knowledge, but... it was missing. If she remembered any doubts in this evening, it might've been the single reservation, that Chione's heart might not have beat so unsteadily as hers.
She traced Anastasia's tears with her lips, drying them against heated lips that'd just claimed hers. Obedient to the Egyptian's whims, Anastasia allowed herself to fall pliant onto the bed next to her. Her eyes fell shut in that luxurious moment, when her back met rich linens and bedding. She opened her eyes just in time to meet Chione's, those orbs dulled just moments before containing a spark of life. Her lips, however, were curved in a wide smile, a crooked, drunken expression.
Chione's figure looming over her, her eyes intensely boring into her very soul...
She preened under this goddess' attentions.
She brushed her temple into Chione's touch, up until that digit traced over her lips next.
"Just let it fade away..."
And it was gone.
"Lose yourself in the pleasure..."
And it was done.
"And there's nothing left to remember..."
Untrue.
"I'll remember this," she assured the woman, just before her lips were claimed again. Chione's fingertips sought to rend fabric apart from her flesh, to expose her to greater and greater privilege, access to her body that was all-too-eagerly given over to her. Chione entreated Anastasia to part her lips in a moan, the sound muffled against the Egyptian. She pressed into her, tongues meeting in an eager dance just as her legs parted in instinctive obedience, so that Chione could do as she pleased to her.
Anastasia could not resist her, even if she'd wanted to.
But, she didn't.
She was easily given over to Chione's machinations, nodding at the last whisper given over to her.
"I'm yours..." she assured her.
She wanted... needed...
More.
To forget.
Everything that was Anastasia was an effort to do that. Absolved of a helpless past by the flames of rebirth, the young and captured Calliope of Aetaea burned away. But, the scared sixteen year old girl never failed to stare her in the eye, in the midst of chilling dreams and waking nightmares. More than the voice of Alector echoing through the night was the imagination that ran wild, the fantasies of a life given over to fear.
But, she always lived in fear. Anastasia of the Fallen Star could not escape it, no matter how strong her efforts were. Fear, regret, the manacles that bound through the eras. She realized that, when she imagined the echo of Alector in Akhenaten's features. A milder and younger embodiment of her fears, Anastasia could try to drink it away, but there was only one thing that'd absolved her in the past...
She imagined a scarlet wisp, a pale countenance, carved from the marble of the Aphrodisias.
If Anastasia missed Greece for one thing, it was the fact that she missed the Harimtu, Euterpe of Midas. A love lost to circumstance, still the siren carried the lessons learned, an affection left to simmer away, but never run rancid or rendered unfeeling.
Now?
Chione walked those same steps. She put herself in the same paces that the Harimtu had, offering her absolution in the form of exquisite beauty and pleasure stronger than the pull of any drug.
And in those sweet promises, Anastasia found herself lost, vulnerable to the gentle affections of concern and the lavishing of attention while her heart circled the pits of Tartarus. Words alone did not contain the flame needed to burn her despair away.
I made my life on words, and yet... words have never helped me reconcile...
Her thoughts were clipped in the wake of Chione's lips meeting hers. As Chione's fingers snaked into her hair and gripped at her nape. She relished in the pressure of her hair pulled back by a careful hand. Then, the kiss deepened. Eagerly, tongues entwined and Anastasia threw herself by the wayside, all too eager to serve in this mutual compliance with the lust that buried altogether more... dangerous feelings.
Then, Chione did something altogether unexpected. Pressed into the Egyptian as she was, she could feel the rabid tick of an unsettled heart in her own chest. Was Chione's just as erratic? Her numbed senses wilted her ability to feel it, so overwhelmed by all that she offered so freely. She could not lament it genuinely, missing that knowledge, but... it was missing. If she remembered any doubts in this evening, it might've been the single reservation, that Chione's heart might not have beat so unsteadily as hers.
She traced Anastasia's tears with her lips, drying them against heated lips that'd just claimed hers. Obedient to the Egyptian's whims, Anastasia allowed herself to fall pliant onto the bed next to her. Her eyes fell shut in that luxurious moment, when her back met rich linens and bedding. She opened her eyes just in time to meet Chione's, those orbs dulled just moments before containing a spark of life. Her lips, however, were curved in a wide smile, a crooked, drunken expression.
Chione's figure looming over her, her eyes intensely boring into her very soul...
She preened under this goddess' attentions.
She brushed her temple into Chione's touch, up until that digit traced over her lips next.
"Just let it fade away..."
And it was gone.
"Lose yourself in the pleasure..."
And it was done.
"And there's nothing left to remember..."
Untrue.
"I'll remember this," she assured the woman, just before her lips were claimed again. Chione's fingertips sought to rend fabric apart from her flesh, to expose her to greater and greater privilege, access to her body that was all-too-eagerly given over to her. Chione entreated Anastasia to part her lips in a moan, the sound muffled against the Egyptian. She pressed into her, tongues meeting in an eager dance just as her legs parted in instinctive obedience, so that Chione could do as she pleased to her.
Anastasia could not resist her, even if she'd wanted to.
But, she didn't.
She was easily given over to Chione's machinations, nodding at the last whisper given over to her.
"I'm yours..." she assured her.
She wanted... needed...
More.
Chione knew nothing of how deep the Greek’s pain went, how much fear permeated everything that she was. She knew the bard only as the charismatic temptress she could not resist. The woman who saw beneath every excuse and defense she had within moments of meeting her and had unleashed upon her a level of desire and pleasure she had never before tasted.
Yet the Egyptian noble was not without her own ghosts, haunted by insecurities. Anastasia had found herself a coveted place at the side of one of the Heis heirs. Clearly favored and kept... she had risked his anger for this newfound friendship they shared. She had paid far too dearly for it as far as Chione was concerned. That his hands had dared marred such delicate beauty... it was unforgivable. Never mind the doubts he had cast upon her with his harsh words of dismissal. But she stood to lose so much more if she lost his favor. The home and wealth he provided her. The love he had once lavished upon her.
How long before Anastasia regretted her choice this night?
It was the least she could do to shelter her, to offer her another choice. One safe from his anger and instead filled with the comfort she was best equipped to provide. The heights of pleasure that she could lift her to was enough to banish her heartache at least until morning. Ideally then, she would be far too sated for such thoughts, quick to fall into a peacefully exhausted sleep.
If there was one skill Chione H’Isazari had, it was distraction. So for tonight, that she would be. If when she woke Ana wished for nothing more from her... well, at least she could relive this night again and again in the years to come. It wouldn’t matter if she could never taste the Greek’s sweet nectar, nor enjoy the taste of wine on her lips, if no one ever made her heart beat quite as fervently as the petite foreigner.
That’s what she tried to convince herself of at least. Maybe she needed this distraction just as badly as Ana did.
’I’ll remember this.’
Such a simple statement and yet... why did it make Chione’s chest feel so suddenly full? She poured this strange new feeling into the kiss, closing her eyes to breathe the other woman in as she explored her. Lips and legs parted eagerly for her and she explored both with a tenderness she had never before afforded a lover.
’I’m yours...’
For this one night, Chione could take solace in that. Could pretend that those words didn’t nearly undo her with a longing for so much more than what could very well be one final night. She moaned against Ana’s lips before pulling away. “This simply won’t do...” she murmured softly as she propped herself up to look down at the petite Greek. “I need all of you.” She tugged the smaller woman upright, beginning to undress her, needing her pale skin bared in its entirely before her, needing the freedom to offer her every last ounce of pleasure that she could.
Yet somehow, even the process of stripping her was too enticing to resist. She couldn’t stop herself as her lips lingered over every inch of newly exposed skin. The fabric settled around her waist, exposing her breasts to the Egyptian and she couldn’t wait the few moments it would have taken her to remove the offending fabric altogether. Her lips claimed the rosy bud of one, sucking and teasing it until it was a hardened pebble between her lips. She shifted to the other, offering it the same treatment. All the while, her fingers continued to tug and pinch at her other nipple, toying with her relentlessly. When her lips pulled back, her free hand began to work in tandem with the other. Her lips shifted lower before her hands followed, fingernails scraping lightly over tender skin to grip the edge of her dress, tugging it over her hips and down her legs only to be tossed aside without care.
This, this was a sight to behold. She knelt at the bed’s edge, before her lover looking up at her with a light in her pale eyes. “You are the only goddess I worship tonight, Anastasia. This bed is your altar. All that I have... all that I am is your offering. Anything you wish is yours. Speak it and I will see it done,” she whispered, a reverence in her voice.
Chione leaned forward, pressing her face between Ana’s thighs, dragging her tongue along her slit, pressing her nose against the pearl of her pleasure, inhaling the scent of her. She lingered there, gently rocking her face and mouth against the paler woman’s core, needing to give her more pleasure than she had ever known before. Needing her to realize that no man’s ignorant actions could detract from all that she was. Anastasia had opened her to this forbidden ecstasy, and for that, no thanks would ever be enough.
She pulled back just enough to look at her once more and speak freely. “I am yours, Anastasia. I am nothing more than your humble servant. My only duty is bestow you with all the pleasure I can offer, until nothing more remains. To bend to your every whim until you are so sated you can remember nothing more the euphoria contained within the walls of this room.”
With that, she pressed forward once more, capturing that delicate bundle of nerves between her lips, sucking at it. Meanwhile her fingers shifted up the lines of Ana’s thighs to part her pretty little lips. One finger slipped within her, stroking and coaxing her, intent on adding more digits as she grew more eager. All the while, she lavished more attentions with her mouth and tongue, growing more and more insistant. There was no delicacy here, no teasing. She wanted to flood Ana’s senses until nothing existed beyond her touch, beyond the joining of their bodies. For once - perhaps the only time in her life - she cared nothing for her own pleasure, only in what she could shower upon her lover.
Please, let it be enough. Let what I can offer be enough for her.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
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Chione knew nothing of how deep the Greek’s pain went, how much fear permeated everything that she was. She knew the bard only as the charismatic temptress she could not resist. The woman who saw beneath every excuse and defense she had within moments of meeting her and had unleashed upon her a level of desire and pleasure she had never before tasted.
Yet the Egyptian noble was not without her own ghosts, haunted by insecurities. Anastasia had found herself a coveted place at the side of one of the Heis heirs. Clearly favored and kept... she had risked his anger for this newfound friendship they shared. She had paid far too dearly for it as far as Chione was concerned. That his hands had dared marred such delicate beauty... it was unforgivable. Never mind the doubts he had cast upon her with his harsh words of dismissal. But she stood to lose so much more if she lost his favor. The home and wealth he provided her. The love he had once lavished upon her.
How long before Anastasia regretted her choice this night?
It was the least she could do to shelter her, to offer her another choice. One safe from his anger and instead filled with the comfort she was best equipped to provide. The heights of pleasure that she could lift her to was enough to banish her heartache at least until morning. Ideally then, she would be far too sated for such thoughts, quick to fall into a peacefully exhausted sleep.
If there was one skill Chione H’Isazari had, it was distraction. So for tonight, that she would be. If when she woke Ana wished for nothing more from her... well, at least she could relive this night again and again in the years to come. It wouldn’t matter if she could never taste the Greek’s sweet nectar, nor enjoy the taste of wine on her lips, if no one ever made her heart beat quite as fervently as the petite foreigner.
That’s what she tried to convince herself of at least. Maybe she needed this distraction just as badly as Ana did.
’I’ll remember this.’
Such a simple statement and yet... why did it make Chione’s chest feel so suddenly full? She poured this strange new feeling into the kiss, closing her eyes to breathe the other woman in as she explored her. Lips and legs parted eagerly for her and she explored both with a tenderness she had never before afforded a lover.
’I’m yours...’
For this one night, Chione could take solace in that. Could pretend that those words didn’t nearly undo her with a longing for so much more than what could very well be one final night. She moaned against Ana’s lips before pulling away. “This simply won’t do...” she murmured softly as she propped herself up to look down at the petite Greek. “I need all of you.” She tugged the smaller woman upright, beginning to undress her, needing her pale skin bared in its entirely before her, needing the freedom to offer her every last ounce of pleasure that she could.
Yet somehow, even the process of stripping her was too enticing to resist. She couldn’t stop herself as her lips lingered over every inch of newly exposed skin. The fabric settled around her waist, exposing her breasts to the Egyptian and she couldn’t wait the few moments it would have taken her to remove the offending fabric altogether. Her lips claimed the rosy bud of one, sucking and teasing it until it was a hardened pebble between her lips. She shifted to the other, offering it the same treatment. All the while, her fingers continued to tug and pinch at her other nipple, toying with her relentlessly. When her lips pulled back, her free hand began to work in tandem with the other. Her lips shifted lower before her hands followed, fingernails scraping lightly over tender skin to grip the edge of her dress, tugging it over her hips and down her legs only to be tossed aside without care.
This, this was a sight to behold. She knelt at the bed’s edge, before her lover looking up at her with a light in her pale eyes. “You are the only goddess I worship tonight, Anastasia. This bed is your altar. All that I have... all that I am is your offering. Anything you wish is yours. Speak it and I will see it done,” she whispered, a reverence in her voice.
Chione leaned forward, pressing her face between Ana’s thighs, dragging her tongue along her slit, pressing her nose against the pearl of her pleasure, inhaling the scent of her. She lingered there, gently rocking her face and mouth against the paler woman’s core, needing to give her more pleasure than she had ever known before. Needing her to realize that no man’s ignorant actions could detract from all that she was. Anastasia had opened her to this forbidden ecstasy, and for that, no thanks would ever be enough.
She pulled back just enough to look at her once more and speak freely. “I am yours, Anastasia. I am nothing more than your humble servant. My only duty is bestow you with all the pleasure I can offer, until nothing more remains. To bend to your every whim until you are so sated you can remember nothing more the euphoria contained within the walls of this room.”
With that, she pressed forward once more, capturing that delicate bundle of nerves between her lips, sucking at it. Meanwhile her fingers shifted up the lines of Ana’s thighs to part her pretty little lips. One finger slipped within her, stroking and coaxing her, intent on adding more digits as she grew more eager. All the while, she lavished more attentions with her mouth and tongue, growing more and more insistant. There was no delicacy here, no teasing. She wanted to flood Ana’s senses until nothing existed beyond her touch, beyond the joining of their bodies. For once - perhaps the only time in her life - she cared nothing for her own pleasure, only in what she could shower upon her lover.
Please, let it be enough. Let what I can offer be enough for her.
Chione knew nothing of how deep the Greek’s pain went, how much fear permeated everything that she was. She knew the bard only as the charismatic temptress she could not resist. The woman who saw beneath every excuse and defense she had within moments of meeting her and had unleashed upon her a level of desire and pleasure she had never before tasted.
Yet the Egyptian noble was not without her own ghosts, haunted by insecurities. Anastasia had found herself a coveted place at the side of one of the Heis heirs. Clearly favored and kept... she had risked his anger for this newfound friendship they shared. She had paid far too dearly for it as far as Chione was concerned. That his hands had dared marred such delicate beauty... it was unforgivable. Never mind the doubts he had cast upon her with his harsh words of dismissal. But she stood to lose so much more if she lost his favor. The home and wealth he provided her. The love he had once lavished upon her.
How long before Anastasia regretted her choice this night?
It was the least she could do to shelter her, to offer her another choice. One safe from his anger and instead filled with the comfort she was best equipped to provide. The heights of pleasure that she could lift her to was enough to banish her heartache at least until morning. Ideally then, she would be far too sated for such thoughts, quick to fall into a peacefully exhausted sleep.
If there was one skill Chione H’Isazari had, it was distraction. So for tonight, that she would be. If when she woke Ana wished for nothing more from her... well, at least she could relive this night again and again in the years to come. It wouldn’t matter if she could never taste the Greek’s sweet nectar, nor enjoy the taste of wine on her lips, if no one ever made her heart beat quite as fervently as the petite foreigner.
That’s what she tried to convince herself of at least. Maybe she needed this distraction just as badly as Ana did.
’I’ll remember this.’
Such a simple statement and yet... why did it make Chione’s chest feel so suddenly full? She poured this strange new feeling into the kiss, closing her eyes to breathe the other woman in as she explored her. Lips and legs parted eagerly for her and she explored both with a tenderness she had never before afforded a lover.
’I’m yours...’
For this one night, Chione could take solace in that. Could pretend that those words didn’t nearly undo her with a longing for so much more than what could very well be one final night. She moaned against Ana’s lips before pulling away. “This simply won’t do...” she murmured softly as she propped herself up to look down at the petite Greek. “I need all of you.” She tugged the smaller woman upright, beginning to undress her, needing her pale skin bared in its entirely before her, needing the freedom to offer her every last ounce of pleasure that she could.
Yet somehow, even the process of stripping her was too enticing to resist. She couldn’t stop herself as her lips lingered over every inch of newly exposed skin. The fabric settled around her waist, exposing her breasts to the Egyptian and she couldn’t wait the few moments it would have taken her to remove the offending fabric altogether. Her lips claimed the rosy bud of one, sucking and teasing it until it was a hardened pebble between her lips. She shifted to the other, offering it the same treatment. All the while, her fingers continued to tug and pinch at her other nipple, toying with her relentlessly. When her lips pulled back, her free hand began to work in tandem with the other. Her lips shifted lower before her hands followed, fingernails scraping lightly over tender skin to grip the edge of her dress, tugging it over her hips and down her legs only to be tossed aside without care.
This, this was a sight to behold. She knelt at the bed’s edge, before her lover looking up at her with a light in her pale eyes. “You are the only goddess I worship tonight, Anastasia. This bed is your altar. All that I have... all that I am is your offering. Anything you wish is yours. Speak it and I will see it done,” she whispered, a reverence in her voice.
Chione leaned forward, pressing her face between Ana’s thighs, dragging her tongue along her slit, pressing her nose against the pearl of her pleasure, inhaling the scent of her. She lingered there, gently rocking her face and mouth against the paler woman’s core, needing to give her more pleasure than she had ever known before. Needing her to realize that no man’s ignorant actions could detract from all that she was. Anastasia had opened her to this forbidden ecstasy, and for that, no thanks would ever be enough.
She pulled back just enough to look at her once more and speak freely. “I am yours, Anastasia. I am nothing more than your humble servant. My only duty is bestow you with all the pleasure I can offer, until nothing more remains. To bend to your every whim until you are so sated you can remember nothing more the euphoria contained within the walls of this room.”
With that, she pressed forward once more, capturing that delicate bundle of nerves between her lips, sucking at it. Meanwhile her fingers shifted up the lines of Ana’s thighs to part her pretty little lips. One finger slipped within her, stroking and coaxing her, intent on adding more digits as she grew more eager. All the while, she lavished more attentions with her mouth and tongue, growing more and more insistant. There was no delicacy here, no teasing. She wanted to flood Ana’s senses until nothing existed beyond her touch, beyond the joining of their bodies. For once - perhaps the only time in her life - she cared nothing for her own pleasure, only in what she could shower upon her lover.
Please, let it be enough. Let what I can offer be enough for her.
It was gone.
Long gone was the mind to pay anything but the rich linens that draped over this bed they shared. There was nothing but it and the woman above her, the heat that spilled from the very proximity to Chione. The phoenix always called to Anastasia, the flaming bird that burned away doubts and resurrected itself from the dead. Anastasia was the phoenix, the siren, the star. Whichever she chose to be, but in the realm of Egypt where the sun God, Ra, was reveled with worship... Chione seemed to shine with the indomitable rays of the kingdom's sun. She forged a blade from the light of her words, a burning spear that pierced through the anger, the resentment, and the lingering mind to the travesty that had transpired.
If Akhenaten plunged in darkness and evil in action, then Chione was winged light, absconding the fallen star to the heavens she'd fallen from.
It was a beautiful thing, to see the vision of living fire in front of her so ardent in her efforts to distract the fallen star. The hammering within her chest grew more and more erratic, the breath hitched in her lungs at the swell of sensation that arose. Not from her loins, but deep within that unsteady chest. Before arousal, before distraction, Anastasia understood the reckoning of the heart. Too familiar with stories of this feeling rising unbidden from the depths of the dark, Anastasia ordinarily would find it surprising, alarming... terrifying. But, in this moment, she surrendered.
"This simply won't do..."
Words moaned against Anastasia's lips snapped the storyteller's eyes open, a curiosity welling within her gaze as she wondered exactly what it was that she implied. Then, she pulled Ana to a sitting position, easily tugging away fabric until it pooled around her waist. In being unwrapped, Anastasia reveled. Already, Chione was intimately aware of her body, lost herself in the supple curves and had been intoxicated by what she'd seen and tasted. In the midst of this violent feeling within her chest, every sensation that the Egyptian instilled within her took an entirely new context.
She felt beyond violated, tendrils of fire that wrapped around her, seared through her skin and served to pound the sound of her heartbeat within her eardrums again and again. If the touch of Chione's fingertips and proximity wasn't enough to send her whirling to oblivion, her lips pushed her well and through the veil to a different reality. Shivers and gooseflesh both tore through the siren's body, her back giving just as the moans parted her lips, her throat vibrating as she brought herself and Chione back against the bed. Nails trailed along the Egyptian's shoulders and back, the grasp growing more and more lax until she was helpless, writhing beneath the attentive caresses of her lover's lips.
Nipples hardened beneath the Isazari heiress' ministrations, Ana unable to feel the lift of her back as it arched and separated the small of it from the mattress. She bared herself so fully, so willingly, eagerly submitting herself to the noble's touch up until...
"You are the only goddess I worship tonight, Anastasia..."
No you.
"This bed is your altar..."
I don't deserve you.
Chione outdid herself, again and again, in her efforts to distract her, to absolve her of this pain. Anastasia. As Chione continued to speak, Ana felt her jaw fall agape, those hazel eyes, just moments before suffused with sultry desire that clouded her vision and rendered her fully engrossed in sensation to... staunch realization and then, submission to that realization.
"Speak it and I will see it done," she whispered so reverently, harkening Anastasia to the priestesses of Aphrodite. In another life, Hathor would've been lucky to have such a woman in her rank and file. But, Anastasia was pleased to steal this woman from a deity she did not revere herself. She basked in the way that Chione bared herself to Ana without any fabric spilling from her form. She bared her heart, even if she didn't yet realize it. The Fallen Star felt the gasp pour from her lips as Chione leaned into her, her cheeks pressing into the heated flesh of Ana's inner thighs. Instinctively, her thighs parted, allowing the true goddess in this room to do as she pleased.
Anything you wish is yours... Speak it and I will see it done...
She heard the words in her own voice, but her throat was parched, a thirst nestled deep within her core making speech, thought, expression... all of it was absorbed into the entity that was overwhelming sensation. Chione, for all of her words, claimed what she wanted, as if innately aware that their desires were one and the same. Tongue and lips rocked against her core, the shiver of pleasure coursing through her body, her thighs shutting just slightly around the Egyptian's cheeks, her head tipped back as the moans poured louder and louder from her lips.
"Gag me!"
The breathless words emerged as nothing more than a whisper, her throat hoarse from the way that Chione seemed to rip the soul from her body.
"You already know... I don't need to... tell you," she admitted, her features so heavily tinged with red that she feared she might catch aflame.
She already had.
Chione and Anastasia, already, had ventured so far past the point of no return... Chione's means of apology, of sheltering her from the fallout of their indulgent and very much mutual attraction. It was a blessing, a curse... An addiction.
And yet, it sustained her. Vice and sustenance in one, Chione was an elixir she could drink forever and never once grow close to being full from.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It was gone.
Long gone was the mind to pay anything but the rich linens that draped over this bed they shared. There was nothing but it and the woman above her, the heat that spilled from the very proximity to Chione. The phoenix always called to Anastasia, the flaming bird that burned away doubts and resurrected itself from the dead. Anastasia was the phoenix, the siren, the star. Whichever she chose to be, but in the realm of Egypt where the sun God, Ra, was reveled with worship... Chione seemed to shine with the indomitable rays of the kingdom's sun. She forged a blade from the light of her words, a burning spear that pierced through the anger, the resentment, and the lingering mind to the travesty that had transpired.
If Akhenaten plunged in darkness and evil in action, then Chione was winged light, absconding the fallen star to the heavens she'd fallen from.
It was a beautiful thing, to see the vision of living fire in front of her so ardent in her efforts to distract the fallen star. The hammering within her chest grew more and more erratic, the breath hitched in her lungs at the swell of sensation that arose. Not from her loins, but deep within that unsteady chest. Before arousal, before distraction, Anastasia understood the reckoning of the heart. Too familiar with stories of this feeling rising unbidden from the depths of the dark, Anastasia ordinarily would find it surprising, alarming... terrifying. But, in this moment, she surrendered.
"This simply won't do..."
Words moaned against Anastasia's lips snapped the storyteller's eyes open, a curiosity welling within her gaze as she wondered exactly what it was that she implied. Then, she pulled Ana to a sitting position, easily tugging away fabric until it pooled around her waist. In being unwrapped, Anastasia reveled. Already, Chione was intimately aware of her body, lost herself in the supple curves and had been intoxicated by what she'd seen and tasted. In the midst of this violent feeling within her chest, every sensation that the Egyptian instilled within her took an entirely new context.
She felt beyond violated, tendrils of fire that wrapped around her, seared through her skin and served to pound the sound of her heartbeat within her eardrums again and again. If the touch of Chione's fingertips and proximity wasn't enough to send her whirling to oblivion, her lips pushed her well and through the veil to a different reality. Shivers and gooseflesh both tore through the siren's body, her back giving just as the moans parted her lips, her throat vibrating as she brought herself and Chione back against the bed. Nails trailed along the Egyptian's shoulders and back, the grasp growing more and more lax until she was helpless, writhing beneath the attentive caresses of her lover's lips.
Nipples hardened beneath the Isazari heiress' ministrations, Ana unable to feel the lift of her back as it arched and separated the small of it from the mattress. She bared herself so fully, so willingly, eagerly submitting herself to the noble's touch up until...
"You are the only goddess I worship tonight, Anastasia..."
No you.
"This bed is your altar..."
I don't deserve you.
Chione outdid herself, again and again, in her efforts to distract her, to absolve her of this pain. Anastasia. As Chione continued to speak, Ana felt her jaw fall agape, those hazel eyes, just moments before suffused with sultry desire that clouded her vision and rendered her fully engrossed in sensation to... staunch realization and then, submission to that realization.
"Speak it and I will see it done," she whispered so reverently, harkening Anastasia to the priestesses of Aphrodite. In another life, Hathor would've been lucky to have such a woman in her rank and file. But, Anastasia was pleased to steal this woman from a deity she did not revere herself. She basked in the way that Chione bared herself to Ana without any fabric spilling from her form. She bared her heart, even if she didn't yet realize it. The Fallen Star felt the gasp pour from her lips as Chione leaned into her, her cheeks pressing into the heated flesh of Ana's inner thighs. Instinctively, her thighs parted, allowing the true goddess in this room to do as she pleased.
Anything you wish is yours... Speak it and I will see it done...
She heard the words in her own voice, but her throat was parched, a thirst nestled deep within her core making speech, thought, expression... all of it was absorbed into the entity that was overwhelming sensation. Chione, for all of her words, claimed what she wanted, as if innately aware that their desires were one and the same. Tongue and lips rocked against her core, the shiver of pleasure coursing through her body, her thighs shutting just slightly around the Egyptian's cheeks, her head tipped back as the moans poured louder and louder from her lips.
"Gag me!"
The breathless words emerged as nothing more than a whisper, her throat hoarse from the way that Chione seemed to rip the soul from her body.
"You already know... I don't need to... tell you," she admitted, her features so heavily tinged with red that she feared she might catch aflame.
She already had.
Chione and Anastasia, already, had ventured so far past the point of no return... Chione's means of apology, of sheltering her from the fallout of their indulgent and very much mutual attraction. It was a blessing, a curse... An addiction.
And yet, it sustained her. Vice and sustenance in one, Chione was an elixir she could drink forever and never once grow close to being full from.
It was gone.
Long gone was the mind to pay anything but the rich linens that draped over this bed they shared. There was nothing but it and the woman above her, the heat that spilled from the very proximity to Chione. The phoenix always called to Anastasia, the flaming bird that burned away doubts and resurrected itself from the dead. Anastasia was the phoenix, the siren, the star. Whichever she chose to be, but in the realm of Egypt where the sun God, Ra, was reveled with worship... Chione seemed to shine with the indomitable rays of the kingdom's sun. She forged a blade from the light of her words, a burning spear that pierced through the anger, the resentment, and the lingering mind to the travesty that had transpired.
If Akhenaten plunged in darkness and evil in action, then Chione was winged light, absconding the fallen star to the heavens she'd fallen from.
It was a beautiful thing, to see the vision of living fire in front of her so ardent in her efforts to distract the fallen star. The hammering within her chest grew more and more erratic, the breath hitched in her lungs at the swell of sensation that arose. Not from her loins, but deep within that unsteady chest. Before arousal, before distraction, Anastasia understood the reckoning of the heart. Too familiar with stories of this feeling rising unbidden from the depths of the dark, Anastasia ordinarily would find it surprising, alarming... terrifying. But, in this moment, she surrendered.
"This simply won't do..."
Words moaned against Anastasia's lips snapped the storyteller's eyes open, a curiosity welling within her gaze as she wondered exactly what it was that she implied. Then, she pulled Ana to a sitting position, easily tugging away fabric until it pooled around her waist. In being unwrapped, Anastasia reveled. Already, Chione was intimately aware of her body, lost herself in the supple curves and had been intoxicated by what she'd seen and tasted. In the midst of this violent feeling within her chest, every sensation that the Egyptian instilled within her took an entirely new context.
She felt beyond violated, tendrils of fire that wrapped around her, seared through her skin and served to pound the sound of her heartbeat within her eardrums again and again. If the touch of Chione's fingertips and proximity wasn't enough to send her whirling to oblivion, her lips pushed her well and through the veil to a different reality. Shivers and gooseflesh both tore through the siren's body, her back giving just as the moans parted her lips, her throat vibrating as she brought herself and Chione back against the bed. Nails trailed along the Egyptian's shoulders and back, the grasp growing more and more lax until she was helpless, writhing beneath the attentive caresses of her lover's lips.
Nipples hardened beneath the Isazari heiress' ministrations, Ana unable to feel the lift of her back as it arched and separated the small of it from the mattress. She bared herself so fully, so willingly, eagerly submitting herself to the noble's touch up until...
"You are the only goddess I worship tonight, Anastasia..."
No you.
"This bed is your altar..."
I don't deserve you.
Chione outdid herself, again and again, in her efforts to distract her, to absolve her of this pain. Anastasia. As Chione continued to speak, Ana felt her jaw fall agape, those hazel eyes, just moments before suffused with sultry desire that clouded her vision and rendered her fully engrossed in sensation to... staunch realization and then, submission to that realization.
"Speak it and I will see it done," she whispered so reverently, harkening Anastasia to the priestesses of Aphrodite. In another life, Hathor would've been lucky to have such a woman in her rank and file. But, Anastasia was pleased to steal this woman from a deity she did not revere herself. She basked in the way that Chione bared herself to Ana without any fabric spilling from her form. She bared her heart, even if she didn't yet realize it. The Fallen Star felt the gasp pour from her lips as Chione leaned into her, her cheeks pressing into the heated flesh of Ana's inner thighs. Instinctively, her thighs parted, allowing the true goddess in this room to do as she pleased.
Anything you wish is yours... Speak it and I will see it done...
She heard the words in her own voice, but her throat was parched, a thirst nestled deep within her core making speech, thought, expression... all of it was absorbed into the entity that was overwhelming sensation. Chione, for all of her words, claimed what she wanted, as if innately aware that their desires were one and the same. Tongue and lips rocked against her core, the shiver of pleasure coursing through her body, her thighs shutting just slightly around the Egyptian's cheeks, her head tipped back as the moans poured louder and louder from her lips.
"Gag me!"
The breathless words emerged as nothing more than a whisper, her throat hoarse from the way that Chione seemed to rip the soul from her body.
"You already know... I don't need to... tell you," she admitted, her features so heavily tinged with red that she feared she might catch aflame.
She already had.
Chione and Anastasia, already, had ventured so far past the point of no return... Chione's means of apology, of sheltering her from the fallout of their indulgent and very much mutual attraction. It was a blessing, a curse... An addiction.
And yet, it sustained her. Vice and sustenance in one, Chione was an elixir she could drink forever and never once grow close to being full from.
