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Post by Bogwoppit on Jul 8, 2009 11:15:48 GMT
What the fuck was this? A hyperactive fucking pixie?? Didn't she ever shut up? Lake was beginning to wish he hadn't bothered rescuing her... she might have talked that twat Boromir to death by now, which would have been funny as fuck. Gypsy... Yeah, he could just imagine her being brought up on some weird hippy commune, but then why the fuck did she join the air force? Surely she should be running round saving whales or knitting daisy chains or some shit? Lake groaned, rubbing his arm across the frown that was giving hi a headache, and sat up. "Where the fuck is that beer...?" he began to say, but was brought up short by the sight of a very pissed looking Thrace standing in the doorway behind the kid. "Oh bollocks..." Lake muttered under his breath, though why the fuck he felt like he'd been caught out he didn't have a clue. He stared at Thrace, knowing he looked like crap, but the dangerous glimmer in her darkening eyes instantly turning him on. He swallowed, trying to work some moisture into his dry mouth, but he couldn't ~ he needed a fucking drink, where the fuck was that girl? Even as he thought it the wench appeared in the hall behind the two very different women - Calvin small and nervous-looking, Thrace thundering passion - and Lake had a sudden urge to laugh. It was all beginning to look suspiciously like a fucking Carry On film! "Bring it in here!" he told the wench, who was looking lost, and not a little scared herself when faced with the uncontrollable fury of Thrace. She scuttled past the blonde with eyes squeezed shut, and placed the tray containing a vast jug of ale and two mugs overly cautiously on the floor beside the bed. Curtsying too briefly, she spun round and almost ran out of the door, disappearing with haste. Lake picked up the jug and took a long swallow before pouring a brimming mug full of the pungent beverage. Better. He grinned up at Thrace, ignoring Calvin. "Couldn't keep away darlin'?" he drawled huskily, and nodded towarrds the bath. "You're just in time to scrub my back." |
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Post by Pinkie on Jul 9, 2009 22:59:54 GMT
The blonde had no idea why she had come to Lake's room... She had an idea but that was just ridiculous and not worth entertaining. The mere suggestion that she had been unable to get him off her mind for the whole day was just not possible. That she had enjoyed their liason the night before was equally farcical - and that he might be exactly what she needed in a man was downright ludicrous. And yet she had forsaken a night with good wine and a good looking man who wanted no strings attached to come to Lake's room and glower at him. Thrace did feel rather ridiculous standing there as the servant, slave.. wahtever the fuck she was, came in and served Lake his beer. Hazel eyes pierced through the hazy light in the room at Lake who stared back at her. The air seemed to crackle between them, an unspoken enmity having it out in the ethers between their bodies. Oh he looked like shit alright! He was dirty, tired - the heavy, dark circles under his eyes aged him and the stubble on his chin and cheeks made it look like he had never seen the sharp edge of a blade since Christmas. His eyes were tired, almost close to bloodshot and his posture was despicably flippant. Yet Thrace felt her breathing become harder, her heart thudding faster in her chest and bouncing against her ear drums so that she was convinced that Lake could hear her heart beat across the room. As the slave, servant or whatever she was, scuttled by her, Thrace shifted her weight from one foot to the other, a petulant and surly cast to her face as she watched the girl place the beer next to the bed, curtsey! (Thrace snorted derisively), and then scuttle back out the door. The blonde looked daggers at Lake who was taking a long, refreshing gulp of the awful liquid. He grinned at her and Thrace's cheek twitched. Too fucking far! And in front of the kid?!?! Thrace, seething with an unameable anger, smiled viciously at Lake and took a casual step forward. "Get a fucking grip Lake." she growled at him and produced an unlit cigarette from her breast pocket, brandishing it to the side so that Calvin would see it - "Just came lookin' for a light, Sir." she added the title venomously, glaring deviously at the Captain. She half turned to look over her shoulder at Calvin and frowned. "Still here?" she asked snidely, sauntering over to stand by Lake. She didn't wait for permission as she reached into the breast pocket of the jacket he wore for his lighter, her fingers careful not to linger or make contact with anything of his that contained his warmth if she could avoid it. Two clicks and the flame burst frmo the lighter, Thrace lit the tip of her cigarette and inhaled deeply, holding the smoke within her lungs as she looked at Gypsy expectantly. Gypsy's eyes, wide and bemused, looked from Lake to Thrace and she gave a bright, nervous smile. "Ohm... nope, sir, ma'am." she gave a whimsical salute as she backed out of the door, obviously greatful to be out of the tense atmosphere. The door clicked closed as she stood back from it and puffed out her cheeks and shook her head in bewilderment. Once the door was closed Thrace rounded on Lake. "Feeling fucking brave and cocky cause you could convince two fucking kids into your room? As if you could get it, or keep it, up for either of them... You're a fucking disgrace Nathan Lake." she intoned with obvious distaste in her voice, the cigarette dangling loosely from her lips - but in the same moment that she chastised his actions she was pulling off her jacket and unbuckling the belt at her waist, opening the button and zip before straddling the man's legs as he sat on the bed. Plucking the cigarette from her lips, Thrace placed her arms around Lake's neck, her forearms resting on his shoulders. She rose up on her knees to get comfortable on his lap, her breasts a breath away from his lips until she sat down again on his thighs, blowing smoke gently towards his face. And despite knowing this was a really, really bad fucking idea, she felt... she felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, a tension eased from her muscles. Grinning devilishly, Thrace dangled one hand down Lake's back and gently scratched her nails along his t-shirt, digging her nails in harder the higher up she went and leaned her face in close to his. "Scrub your back... what the fuck do you think I am, huh?" she uttered between gritted teeth, tipping her head to the side to take another puff of her cigarette but keeping her hazel eyes on Lake's, giving hte barest of gyrations of her hips against his, an unthinking movement, a natural inclination obeyed. |
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Post by Pinkie on Jul 13, 2009 20:15:17 GMT
Gypsy had an idea, an inkling, as to relationship between Lake and Thrace as she stood outside the door that came to close on her face. She pursed her lips and her wide brown eyes crinkled at the edges in amusement as she thought of how the two of them would kill each other. Oh it wasn't right! Not at all, and for countless reasons too, but Gypsy was not their superior and it was, quite frankly, none of her business. She turned on her heel and pursed her lips, beginning to whistle quietly to herself as she walked the halls of teh large fortress, hands in her pockets, kicking her feet out ahead of her as if she had not a care in the world. Her head tilted side to side as she looked up at the large and magnificent pillars, her wide eyes taking in the nooks and crannies, in awe of all that surrounded her. It really was like a fantasy novel or something... As she walked adn thought and walked some more, she went around in cicles adn came back to Lake and Thrace, wondering if West knew about the duo at all... She liked West. He was intimidatingly big and brawny but he was as gentle as a baby, ready with a smile and ... safe. He was safe. She wondered if Kawalsky knew about them.. he seemed quite good pals with Thrace. She wondered if Mark... Mark... Gypsy's smile fled and her heart sank. Mark.. she was still uncertain of the relationship between Thrace and Mark but she kinda had an idea and she kinda knew, in her bones, that he would be upset by this revelation. The young woman paused and looked back the way she had come - somewhere along that corridor she had walked past Mark's room. Quite unsure of what she would say, Gypsy wandered back the way and paused at his door, flinching at the thoughts of telling him what she had just seen. It was silly. Pointless kind of silly. It would only hurt him adn he didn't really have to know. So long as whatever was between him and Thrace was truly over it aught to be ok... right? With a deep breath, Gypsy resolved she wouldn't tell Mark but she'd knock in to see him nonetheless. They could talk. Like old times. Except in 'old times' she had not had butterflies with steel capped wings fluttering about her stomach at the thought of seeing Mark. Gypsy rapped her small hand against the door and rocked forward onto the balls of her feet. "Hey Mark? Mark - it's Gypsy. Just ... wanted to say hi.." she called out against the door, giving a breath of bubbly laughter to punctuate her greeting as she rocked back onto her heels and waited, looking at the door hopefully, hands stuffed back into her pockets. |
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Post by Bogwoppit on Jul 14, 2009 12:52:15 GMT
Why the sudden surge of adreniline? Must be the beer... but generally alcohol just made him feel... better... real... not this blood coursing heart thumping excitement that hit him as he watched Thrace saunter into the room. Lake almost, almost, felt sorry for the poor kid as the blonde growled at her, but the sizzling air was too hot with expectation for him to focus on anything but the woman in front of him as she reached towards his pocket. He licked dry lips surreptitiously - wouldn't do to let her see how much she affected him - and blinked, regulating his breathing with his face impassive. Her intentions, despite her words, were clear... her need was clear to anyone but the most unobservant, and Lake glanced briefly at the door as Calvin scuttled away, wondering if she could keep her mouth shut about this because she sure as fuck couldn't about anything else! His groin tightened and twitched as she straddled his hips, but he ignored it, leaning back away from her and watching her insolently, both hands resting behind him on the bed. "So what the fuck are you doing here then?" he rasped, almost in a whisper. She rested her arms across his shoulders, and despite himself he lifted his hands to rest them deceptively gently on her hips, thus bringing himself closer to her, eyelids lowered as he watched the rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed. He hissed, back arching towards her as she raked her nails along his spine. Strong, blunt fingers dug into her flesh, and he tipped his head back to see the devilish light in her hazel eyes. "What the fuck do you want from me Thrace?" he asked, still in a gravelly whisper, mocking her own question as he brought his mouth towards hers. He wanted her, the fucking bitch; he wanted to hurt her, possess her, make her sorry for knowing that he wouldn't be able to resist her. But fucking hell he felt alive! He was hard, and tipped his hips up to press against her heat with a slow, controlled movement. He wouldn't be a pushover... if she wanted him she could fucking ask him for it this time! "Tell me what you want..." he growled. |
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Post by Bogwoppit on Jul 14, 2009 13:18:39 GMT
The sound of a voice outside the door jerked Mark awake. For a moment he wondered where he was... his dream had been so real... Molly... someone had tried to take Molly from him and he was trying to get her back, but then Katee was there and she was in danger and he hadn't known what to do... he had to choose between them, who to save... He jumped as he awoke, splashing luke warm water up into his eyes and banging his elbow on the side of the metal tub as he tried to sit up. "Shit!" he cursed quietly, and stood, dripping onto the thick fur rug in front of the fire searching for something to cover himself with. "Hang on..." Plucking a rough woven towel from the simple wooden chair which stood by the bed, he wrapped it loosely around narrow hips, and dripped his way to the door. Having no idea how confused and cute he looked with his hair darkened by the water and sticking up in tuffs on his head, droplets running down the grooves in his cheeks, he opened it to find Gypsy standing the other side. "Oh... hi..." he said, the dream still thick in his mind. "Uhm... hi..." He blinked a couple of times owlishly, then sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, still looking at the dark haired girl before him. "Sorry... sorry..." he said eventually. "Come on in." He turned from the open doorway and padded across the room to the bed, shivering now even in the warmth from the fire, a consequence of the dream combined with the bath water going cold as he lay there. Picking the heavy quilt off the bed absently, he wound it around himself before sitting down with his back against the headboard, bare legs crossed in front of him. It wasn't that he wasn't pleased to see Gypsy... in fact he could probably do with her bright company right now. But he was tired,and cold, and not looking forward to the morning. |
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Post by Pinkie on Jul 16, 2009 10:46:03 GMT
The room felt too hot and too stuffy all of a sudden. Mari could feel her chest rising and falling hard as she struggled to get soothing gulps of air into her lungs from the startlement. There was no civilised way of backing out of the room now, not without looking like a fool. And besides, a very silly part of her didn't want to back out of the room now! A very silly part of her wanted to stay and blush and smile with him for she knew that he would put her worries and silliness to one side and be kind to her and .. well, she was unused to that kind of treatment. What woman would then, unused to such kindness, not look forward to it? His strong hand touched her arm softly, holding her to where she was. Mari's cheeks flushed a deep red and she felt her heart flutter girlishly at the strength of his hand, the sheer size of it encompassing her slender arm and how warm it was, how gentle and how sweet! Her dark eyes looked down and she bit the edge of her lip, turning her head to the side so that her cheek was against her shoulder, DJ able to see her pretty profile but her eyes looking down at the ground by her side and not at him out of respect. How was Mari to know how much of a cliche it was? The young woman had tentatively turned her wide and trusting eyes to DJ when he said it was good to see her alright. She gave him a dazed smile at his concern and hugged the pitcher of hot water tighter to her stomach, sighing contentedly and nodding at his request like a dolt. "Oh - oh of course I will, surely!" she exclaimed in a rush, relieved to be of some use to him rather than merely standign whilst he lay in the tub of water... naked... Mari felt another blush creep down her cheeks, turning her pale skin about her neck and cehst rest also as she placed the pitcher by the side of the tub and knelt down next to it also. She sat back on her heels and smiled at DJ before turning up her sleeves to her elbows. There was a bruise on oen arm from the skirmish but it was only a dark blotch against her pale skin and nothing worse. Her hips and back were similar but there was nothing that would prevent her from working. "The healers said that there were only bruises and scrapes, there was nothing serious. They said that I aught to thank whoever had intervened very kindly for it could have been much, much worse for me." She told DJ quietly, her voice reverent as she once more referred to his heroics, kneeling up so that her flat stomach rested against the side of the tub, her soft, slender hands reaching into the water, dark brown eyes glancing up at DJ's face to make sure it was ok for her to do so. She fetched the cloth from the water and rung it loosely. "I told them of the troll and they were all so very scared - but they all agreed that you acted so bravely, so thoughtlessly of your own well-being. Some even joked..." she blushed and shook her head, giving a gentle laugh as she pressed the cloth to his strong back, her dark eyes looking at the contours of the muscles beneath the skin, how the water cascaded in rivulets down his skin in accordance with those contours. "Oh.... nevermind, it is just silly talk really." she spoke faintly, shaking her head as her eyes lifted to his face and her hand stilled on his back. |
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Post by Pinkie on Jul 20, 2009 22:00:07 GMT
Elendur didn't think that there was a woman beneath the exterior she pushed out there. She would not have adimtted to there being another part of her to like, a fragile and helpless part of her, one that needed a comforting arm and soothing voice. Joe West offered these things to her and so would a hundred other men at that. Her beauty was well known throughout Gondor, from the poorest man to the richest. It was not something the woman ever hid and she most definitely flaunted it. But she never sold herself on her beauty alone. Men who were drawn in by her golden aura were entertained and amused but soon shot down once they tried to take their attentions further than the blonde wished. Ah - a tease? Perhaps - but Elendur had a good sense of her own self-worth, and oh she valued herself very highly. As Joe came towards her, Elendur tipped her head forward a little, allowing him to reached for the jacket and take it from her shoulders. She almost expected the fingertips that caressed her skin btu she had been expecting it at the shoulders, not at the collarbones and the difference was immense. The breath that left her lips was warm but startled and she felt uncontrolled goosebumps rise along the spine. Ah! Silly! She was so used to the men of Gondor and their methods of seducing her but Joe had taken a different, foreign approach it seemed. Elendur smiled faintly, steeling her resolve against the inevitable, predictable 'moves' he would make. All men, no matter the universe they came from, were the same... surely...? There was something very warming and comforting about the thickness of his arms, the rippling muscles that flexed as he tossed his own jacket onto the bed. Elendur blinked lazily at him, creating the inevitable conversation in her mind and preparing her responses. He would attempt to woo her, startle her with his steely resolve and amazing will-power, how he could never do anythng but be brave, how it was not an effort at all how... The blonde felt her noble facade slip into a dazzled stare as he admitted, frankly, that he had to 'train' to be as brave as he was. It was certainly not the answer she was expecting and so she had to quickly rejig her thoughts to prepare then for wat he might say next and then he surprised her again by looking her over....! Elendur felt her cheeks flush pink and her pulse quickened. By all the was good in Middle Earth!!! But she knew she looked a mess! She could feel the grime on her skin and her dress was ruined, it was dusty and the shoulder strap torn somewhat, threads hung loose and her feet were bare! Black and bare! Never had she felt more embarrassed...! Elendur's head snapped up when Joe asked her if she wanted to wash her face. He was so... so.... normal with her! It was as if he had no intention of wooing her, or attempting to. He had her in his room and he wanted nothing more than to ensure her face and feet were clean! Self-consciously, the blonde looked down at her grubby toes and curled them inwards, fingers curling into the blue material of her skirts as she looked up at Joe, abotu to hotly accuse him of insulting her but when her eyes met his she found that her haughty attitude dissolved. She could not think he meant ill when he looked at her so openly with his handsome lips edging towards a smile and his broad shoulders flat with easiness and comfort at her presence. It was strange that he was not trying to impress her and so Elendur's tricks and wiles seemed to be redundant. Smiling sheepishly, the woman scuffed a toe against the arch of her other foot and bit her bottom lip. "I suppose I aught to." his attitude worked. She did need normal right now and whilst his attitude was not something she was accostomed to he was treating her like a normal person and that had a positive effect on the Steward's daughter. And with an unusual amount of consideration for someone other than herself she took a deep breath and continued, walking towards Joe and touching his arm lightly as she walked by him, looking at the tub of hot bath water by the fire. "Perhaps I can make my father believe that I was entirely unaffected by the whole thing. It would grieve him terribly to know how close I came to injury. Boromir also. He would rampage to the gates of Mordor itself if he thought any harm had come to me." Elendur admitted, hunkering down by the tub and dipping her hand into the water. She smiled over her shoulder at Joe - "I will use only what I must and leave the rest for you. Oh but you must be tired... you must be wearied by it all, Joe West... even with all your training, you must..." Elendur said, standing and turning to him, a hand lifting to the centre of her chest in consternation, her voice thick with pity for his plight as she looked across the room to him. |
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Post by Pinkie on Jul 23, 2009 15:51:12 GMT
 Why had she come here of all places? Thrace had known walking the halls of this foreign palace that she had been making a bad, very bad decision. She had a perfectly decent offer from a man who was more honourable, more thoughtful and to her taste than Nathan fucking Lake, and yet she had diverted from there to here because ... she wanted to see him, she wanted to touch him and taste him so badly! God but she could only deny it so long. The night before had been a mistake. He had riled her and she had risen to his challenges and she had been punished for it. Tonight was something different altogether. She came before him because she wanted to be there, not because he had teased and tormented her into it. She unbuttoned her trousers, undid her belt and threw away her jacket because his unfamiliar hands would feel good against her skin. No good could come of this decision of hers, none at all, but she was not about to turn and leave now, not when she felt his hungry eyes on her, felt the warmth of his breath against her chest as his gleaming blue eyes looked down at her breasts. The blonde drew her teeth hard against her bottom lip, watching as the man hissed and arched towards her. She grinned devilishly at his reaction, feeling her own breath quicken and her eyes darken. Ah! It was too similar to what Mark had asked earlier. The question grated against every nerve ending in her body, setting fire to her temper and making her teeth grind angrily. Thrace's nostrils flared and her mouth gaped open in surprise to feel Lake's hips lifting to meet hers, the solid hardness of his arousal pressing against her already. She felt dizzy, angry, sensual... her lips parted and she shut her hazel eyes, the flat of her palm hard against Lake's shoulders, sliding up the centre of his back, twisting to continue on up over the nape of his neck to his short hair. Her fingers stiffened and she ran the tips of her fingers against his scalp, not hard, but sure and confident. Her elbow crooked on his shoulder, Thrace groaned and tipped her face down towards Lake's, her lips close to his as she opened her eyes, blazing fury and desperation plain. Those emotions dissolved as her hazel eyes pierced his, as she realised that with Lake she didn't have to think of the right thing to say when he asked her that question. When Mark asked her it he meant it in a grand philosophical way, he meant it in a 'life' kind of way, in a manner that would affect her forever more. Lake was not so complicated. His rugged face was close but she was distant enough to read his expression, the stubborn challenge he put forward despite how much he desired her right now. What did she want? She wanted to get her own back on him for last night, she wanted to ride him hard and long and make him want her more than he wanted the bottle. Christ - why did she care about that? She grinned as the realisation of how simple it was with him came to her. She smiled and then laughed, tipping her head back and giving a breathy chuckle of relief and delight before leaning forward, rising up on her knees above him, her chest a mere breath from his face and her blonde hair tipped forward, shadowing her features as she placed her two hands on either side of his face. Such a worn face, such eyes that had seen many bad and sad things. She didn't give a fuck. He could give her what she wanted right now for right now. "All of it." she rasped, still grinning, youth, vigour and sultry heat oozing from her every pore as she leaned forward, pressing her body against Lake's until he fell back on the bed and she pressed her hands on the mattress on either side of his head, smiling down at him. "All of it, all of you - all of you inside me now until you are sore and spent and then I will want it again, and again." she she spoke one of her hands reached down between his legs, the flat of her palm against the hard bulge of his cock which she massaged roughly, not enough to cause pain, but enough to make him wary of the pain she could cause. "I want you to lay back, Nathan Lake, and let me use you like you used me." her lips hovered above his mouth, her breath mingling with his. There. She said it. Precisely what she wanted right now for right now. Tomorrow she might not want the same thing, in fact, she knew she would not. But right now, right this moment in time she wanted Nathan Lake and all he could offer her which was pure, raw, sensual and sexual satisfaction, a way to relieve all the tension and anxiety in her body and her life. |
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Post by Pinkie on Aug 28, 2009 2:48:46 GMT
She heard scuffles inside and cocked her head to the side. The young woman knew her place in the world, she knew where she aught to be and aught not to be. She appeared young and hapless at times but there was more to her than met the eye. Behind the cheery demeanour was a sophisticated defense system to preserve and protect her from people like her husband. Gypsy knew that Mark was not like that and knowing how unlike her husband he was, she was drawn to him. He was gentle, genuinely gentle, intelligent, caring and funny. She also knew that her need to be around him could become a nuisance for him and so when he opened the door she was resolved to pick up his mood to her appearance immediaetly adn act on it. If he was in any way reluctant to have her around she would make like a shepherd and get teh flock outta there. The woman had been wiping the heel of her boot against the toe of her other one as she waited for Mark to open the door so that what met her eyes first were his bare wet toes. Her heart lurched. At toes. How stupid! The young airman lifted her eyes immediately to his face and felt another lurch at the befuddled expression in his sleepy eyes, at the drops of bathwater that traced shimmering lines down his cheeks and the wet spikes of hair atop his head. Yeah so she had a crush. The woman gave him a quick, quirky smile as he greeted her, twice, and apologised, twice. He turned, shivered and tottered back inside inviting her onwards and inwards. Gypsy smiled fondly and bit the edge of her lip, making a new resolution not to look at his bare back or legs again. With a spring in her step, the woman stepped inside teh room and closed the door over a little but didn't shut it, letting Mark know that she was willing to leave him to his bath if he but asked her to. "Uh - sorry for disturbing your bath Sir. I can .." she thumbed to the side even as she plopped herself down on the other end of his bed, one knee hitched up and her head cocked to the side curiously at him. There was the shadow of a smile on her lips, as if it were always there. A playful easiness, an understanding and sympathetic lilt to her voice as she spoke. "Or I can scrub your back instead?" she teased cheerily. The hard set of his shoulders, the crinkle in his forehead and shadow in his eyes let her know that he needed cheering up. Gypsy was not the best judge of character at all, but she had spent enough time in Mark's company to know how to read him. A bit. Well, three days literally in his pocket meant something, right? The woman pursed her lips. "Bumped into the prince dude from the party the other night. Boromir. He's a really nice guy." she commented brightly, nodding her head in confirmation of her own statement. Silence hung between them... Well that wasn't going to work. Gypsy went out on a limb a little, narrowing her big bright eyes and biting her bottom lip, worried that her next comment might be a little invasive. "You seem... different since we got here, Llewellyn. Is everything ok?" she asked, flinching, quiet. |
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Post by Bogwoppit on Sept 4, 2009 9:12:44 GMT
Immediately a look of concern came over DJ's features when he saw the bruise on the girl's arm. Any natural stirrings of desire at having a beautiful young woman alone in his room were quelled by the desire to protect and nuture. DJ was as hot-blooded as the next man, but he had always had a soft spot for those in need, which probably had more than a little to do with his lack of success with women. Those he met in his line of work tended to be more butch than he, and were looking for some rough and ready soldier to challenge them. Mari was different - she was so young and seemed so vulnerable. For once in his life DJ felt up to the task of being the protector. He listened as she spoke shyly, unable to prevent a tender smile from replacing the frown of concern as she alluded to his heroics. Her hands on his back, small and soft and at first hesitant, sent a pool of fluttering warmth to settle in the pit of his stomach whilst at the same time causing goose bumps to appear all along his arms. He glanced surreptitiously down to make sure her administrations weren't about to cause them both any embarrassment, but to his consternation little DJ had begun to twitch with interest. DJ gulped, and desperately recited the chemical compounds of every alien substance he could remember. As he felt Mari's hand still on his back, her last words seeped into his befuddled brain, and he looked up at her, frowning and smiling at the same time. "Go on," he grinned, forgetting the state of his nether regions for the moment, "what did they say?" His fragile ego, bolstered by his earlier moment of glory, wanted to bask in more praise from one who seemed to be impressed by his very exsistence. DJ was by no means arrogant or narcisistic, quite the contrary, which was why he wasn't about to miss this rare opportunity to be a hero. He shivered slightly - the water had begun to get cold - and looked around for a towel, sighing inwardly as he saw it lying on the bed about three miles away across the room where he had left it. |
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Post by Bogwoppit on Sept 4, 2009 11:11:43 GMT
Major Joe West was not a calculating man. He did not study women and treat them in a certain way so as to easier woo them or lure them into his confidence. He didn't compliment them unecessarily and pretend to play into their hands so as to talk his way into their hearts or beds. He wasn't that kind of man. He could, however, read people. It was his job to get the best out of people and to instill confidence where it was needed. With Elendur he knew from the start that here was a woman used to getting her own way, a woman to whom men flocked, and generally crawled from after a lashing from her tongue or a flick of her golden hair. West did not like women like this, not usually. He would do anything to get the job done - to learn intel from a society he would be pally with the men, flirty with the women, old and young alike, but he rarely allowed himself to become involved. He was clever enough to know when to quietly withdraw his friendship and remain on the grounds of officialdom. This woman had been put in the box of 'powerful females with influence - to be carefully nutured', when they had first arrived in Minis Tirith. West was not a weak man; he could hold his personal feelings and emotions in check when it came to diplomacy and the good of his planet. Now however, he had seen a chink in the armor of this particular female. The game he had assumed she knew he was playing slightly lost its appeal when he saw her bare, dirty feet and tearful face, looking far younger than her attitude would have one believe. Even her voice had lost its arrogant tone, and West felt an urge to wrap her in his strong arms and make her admit to being human, to shake off her air of superiority. He certainly wasn't about to treat her any differently than he would one of his subordinates, or anyone else in need of care after a battle. She may be special here, in this city, but she was just a beautiful woman to him. And he had never been intimidated by women, beautiful or otherwise. Joe smiled, his green eyes following the pale if dusty length of her bare arm as she dipped her fingers in the water. He was tired, exhausted, could sleep for a week. But he was trained to keep going, what he had told her was the truth. It wouldn't be the first time he had gone a couple of days without sleep and it wouldn't be the last. "I'm ok," he replied softly, still watching her, his eyes narowed slightly. "Take all the time you need. I'll wait." If she expected him to leave the room while she bathed she was going to be sorely disappointed, and tired though he was a small part of him mischievously wondered what she would do if he refused to leave. He sat down on the end of his huge bed and bent down to untie his boots, pulling them off and lining them up neatly. Sitting back up straight he tugged his t-shirt out of the waistband of his pants and pulled it off over his head, grimacing slightly at the smell of blood and Orc that assailed his nostrils in passing. Ignoring, for all intents and purposes, the gorgeous girl in his bedroom, he lowered himself back down onto the embroidered cover and closed his eyes. |
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Post by Bogwoppit on Sept 4, 2009 12:23:29 GMT
Mark instantly shook his head, still a little muzzy from his sleep, and not realising that she was merely trying to make him smile. "No, no it's ok, the water's cold now anyway," he replied. "If you hadn't knocked when you did I might have drowned in my sleep!" He grinned then, unaware that perhaps his refusal to allow her to scrub his back, no matter whether in jest, may offend her a bit, maybe make her think he didn't find her attractive enough to flirt with. Far from it, he was growing to like her more and more with each passing exchange between them. She was cute, funny, light-hearted, cheerful, easy company... all the things which Katee was not in fact. Each time they parted Mark would feel like breathing a sigh of relief, however much he still wanted to be with her, as though his entire being was tensed up when he was with her. Gypsy was altogether... simpler company. Not that he looked at her in a romantic light... he was too hung up on Thrace, too hesitant to allow anyone in again, and anyway he seemed to think there was a man somewhere in Gypsy's life. Married or not, he wasn't sure, but he thought there had been mention of a man. She was too cute to be on her own. Mark blinked, her bright words not penetrating his musings until an awkward silence had stretched between them for minutes. The more serious tone of her voice caused him to look up sharply, seeing the tiny flinch as she spoke her mind. It was weird, the change of atmosphere between them. Previously they had exchanged light-hearted, sometimes jokingly flirting conversation to pass the time. Only the night before had there been a small moment where it could have changed, but neither of them was prepared to allow it then. Now though, something was different. Maybe the battle and the adreniline that went with it, which always made emotions run high and wild, maybe his exchange with Katee and the thought that nothing would ever change between them, maybe the subconcious fear of the unknown that tomorrow would bring. Whatever it was, Mark wanted... needed... something... someone, and Gypsy was uncomplicated. He shivered again, and pulled the quilt closer around him as he looked longingly at the fire. In front of the hearth was a fur rug, thick and inviting, and Mark needed warmth. He swung his legs around and off the bed, standing up still wrapped in the quilt. "Come and sit with me," he said, holding out his hand as though it was the most natural thing in the world. He sank down onto the rug and let the quilt slide off his almost dry shoulders as he gazed into the flames thoughtfully. He wasn't tired, just confused. Stretching his long legs out along the edge of the hearth he closed his eyes and tipped his head back, hands out behind him to hold him upright and bare chest glistening in the flames. "Do you have a boyfriend... a guy... Gypsy?" he asked abruptly, feeling a little stupid at using the word 'boyfriend' and thus changing it. Boyfriends and girlfriends were what you had in school, not now, when your whole life revolved around staying alive. He didn't even know why he asked it, except that the thought was in his mind, and he wanted to know that she knew the emotions that went with relationships. She just seemed so young and innocent and... happy. Not one to have been through heartache. |
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Post by Bogwoppit on Sept 5, 2009 15:07:28 GMT
Lake knew a moment of triumph even as he fell back against the bed beneath her. Ha! So she admitted it, she wanted him. He could dine out on that for months... But it was all too intense to silently gloat over his victory for long. Her hand on his cock caused the throbbing member to strain at his zip as he thrust against her, mindless of the potential pain. The warmth of her breath against his lips had him almost groaning with desire, hands trembling on her hips, fingertips tightening more on her tender flesh in an effort to still them. It would be so easy to take over, to lift her up and throw her down on the bed, his wiry strength more than a match for her however tough she thought she was, to take her roughly as he had the night before, to listen to her whimpers of protest and watch her hazel eyes flash with impotent fury. His hard body begged for that very thing, but he ignored it, revelling in the far too unusual passion her closeness caused. He would let her have her way - she could use him whatever way she wanted, fuck him senseless for all he cared. How often did a washed-up has-been like him get an offer like that off any female, let alone one this fucking hot? He never had liked insipid women, those who fawned over him - and there had been many in his past life, despite the derision he knew it would cause if he tried to convince Thrace of that - He couldn't stand women who would do anything he wanted or asked, who would just lay there and take whatever he dished out to them. He had been wild in his youth, a self-confessed bastard. Not that he would try to claim anything different now... it was just that now he was a bastard generally, not just where women were concerned. Only one woman had changed him, and she hadn't even had to try... He closed his eyes against the brief unwanted flash of memory, dark lashes hiding the pain in his blue eyes as he grit his teeth. Taking a deep breath to regain control he smirked, opening his eyes to watch Thrace's lips so close to his own. Then slowly he lifted his hands away from her and stretched them out above his head on the pillow, surrendering himself to her. "You take whatever you want darlin'" he growled, firmly back in the present again. "I'm all yours." Oh yes, he was going to enjoy this. A small part of him was well aware of the pain she could cause him if he completely surrendered his body to her. But the larger part of his mind didn't give a fuck. He was past caring about pain. Still now, there were plenty of days when he would welcome death with open arms, and pain was just one step closer. |
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Post by Pinkie on Sept 7, 2009 19:51:27 GMT
Mari was everything feminine and sweet. She was quiet and gentle, innocent and trusting. In another time nad place her femininty might have been viewed with scorn and disdain - a woman to be so dependant, but in Gondor, in an age and land of heroes her dependancy did not seem such a thing of shame. The woman idolised DJ for what he had done, for what he was - a warrior. Whether he could repeat the actions of earlier when he had saved her from the Orcs would never matter. That he had done it once was enough and she would never expect anything more than that from him. In saving her life he had found himself a most loyal and adoring follower in Mari. The young servant gave a bashful smile, busying herself with brushing along the centre of the man's spine with the damp cloth. Her brown eyes were on his back and she shrugged one small shoulder up to her ear, crunching her dark brown curls about her smooth cheek and chin as she smiled shyly. "Ok - but it is what they said and not I. Remember that, ok?" she asked, her wide and sincere eyes looking up into his. Bottomless and dark, her eyes were windows to her soul and the high opinion that she had for the soldier was clearly evident. And also her desire for what she was about to say to be the truth. Dipping the cloth once more, Mari rung it out and rose to her feet neatly. She was using to this kind of serving and walked to the bed to get the towel that was so carelessly splayed there. "Well, some of the women said that you must have saved me especially and that I aught to come here this evening and show you my gratitude." she admitted. Admittedly she did not truly understand what the women had meant by showing her gratitude. She had not understood their secret smiles and had come to DJ to show him her gratitude, in her own way though. By being of service to him, by ensuring his needs were met and that he knew, verbally, just how much she appreciated what he did. Towel in hand, Mari turned back to DJ and smiled at him, still with her eyelashes fluttering with embarrassment and shyness. She spread the material of the towel wide and stood by teh side of the bath, her head tilted to one side for decency, her chin touching her shoulder. "But I do not think you saved me especially at all - I think you would have done the same for any one of them. Would you have?" she asked then with sudden bright interest, her eyes a mixture of hope and fear for she hoped he would say that he had saved her especially btu fear that he would not have done the same for any other woman in need. Her fingers were small, curled into the towel that she held ready for the soldier. |
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Post by Pinkie on Sept 7, 2009 20:20:47 GMT
Just a beautiful woman? Elendur was more than just a beautiful woman. She had influence and appeal. Men adored her and desired her. Such was the way of things in Gondor. The untouchable daughter of the Steward was an object of desire amongst the men and an object of admiration and jealousy amongst the women. She was used to such opinions of her, and used to people treating her based on these opinions. Perhaps that was why West had such a strange effect on her. Since when did Elendur care about a man being tired? A soldiering man at that! Soldiers were meant to be tired - that was why they were soldiers. They did... soldierly things. Her fascination with how he carried on was only manifested this day because, for once, Elendur had not been utterly sheltered from what it was to be in the middle of a battle. She had never known a fight before in her life and so faced with it she found it humbling and tiring and terrifying. When he smiled at her Elendur felt self-conscious. She lifted her wet fingertips from the water and tucked a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear, dipping her head and pulling her foot inwards in an effort to hide her dirty toes. He was going to allow her to take the bath-water first she realised and felt a swell of gratitude for that until he sat down on the bed and started to undo the laces of his boots. A shimmer of her former self flashed in her eyes as he did that, and sat up straight on the bed. Disapproval warred with the gratitude she had just felt but both were rushed from her mind when he shamelessly pulled his t-shirt off over his head revealing a ... well, a truly magnificent body beneath. There were red welts that would be bruises later, and there was the darker patches where blood had dried against his skin, but that did not take away from the fact that he had the most desirable upper body the blonde had ever truly set eyes on. In fairness men tended not to strip to the waist before her. As she was staring at his torso Joe seemed to be uncaring of her hot gaze as he lay back on the bed casually and closed his eyes. Elendur realised what she was doing and snapped her teeth together audibly. She lifted her chin adn tossed her head a little, looking at the water and then back at the relaxed man on the bed. He was not peeking, she was certain of that, but it was still rather rude of him to presume she would strip so brazenly before him and ... What choice did she truly have? The blonde licked her lips surreptitiously and turned to the bath. She glanced over her shoulder at Joe and pushed the sleeve of her dress down to her elbow. She paused and bit the edge of her lip. Frowning, she pushed the other side of her dress down to her elbow also, holding her arms close to her side to keep the material covering her breasts. "Um.." she said quietly, uncomfortably, shifting from one foot to the other. Another glance over her shoulder showed the man still laying relaxed and at ease as she squirmed in uncomfortable and uncharacteristic modesty. Heaving a sigh, she shook her head and awlked over to the bed, straps still about her elbows, dress hanging precariously against the lucious swell of her breasts and she tilted her head. "I cannot undress with you ... with you ... there.." she told him, almost sounding haughty more out of habit than intent. The way her eyebrows raised and her lips tightened it was obvious she was shy rather than arrogant. The closer proximity allowed her to see the hurts he had taken more clearly and for a moment she was mesmerised by the contours of his upper body. Without thinking she reached down and traced a finger across a blackening muscle over his lower abdomen. His skin felt warm to the touch, invitingly smooth and again, without thought, Elendur allowed her other fingers to fall straight and touch the wounded muscle gently also, sliding her fingers across to his side where she flattened her hand against his lower ribs. Her head tilted to the side in wonderment. "Does it hurt?" she asked him, as if in a daze as she sat on the edge of the bed next to him, still with her elbows tight to her side to hold her falling dress in place, her eyes not lifting from his impressive body to see his reaction as she continued to touch his soft skin, feeling the hard muscle beneath in awe. |
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