retroductions | reverie overflow.

[ oh! she did not expect this kind of hunger from Herlock Sholmes of all people. her surprise comes out as a giddy little laugh as he ruts up between her spread thighs ]

I could bring you off just like this, you know.

[ rubbing fond circles beneath his jaw with a thumb. he would look so pretty, and she would make it feel so good for him ]

Would you like that?

[It is supremely difficult for him not to chase self-indulgence, to not follow pleasurable impulses; ask anyone who's known the detective over the years, for good or ill, and they would agree. Yet he has not loosed all of his self-control. Her laughter is bright in his ears, and he looks up at her with a flushed face, gaze hazy with want, but echoes an airy laugh right back.]

And undo our grand plans for a few hurried moments of bliss?

[He grinds against her again, cheeky.]

Surely you're in no such hurry.

[ bliss, he says, but also, you. that makes her laugh again, sable this time; she reaches between, slips her fingertips through the wetness beading at the tip of him ]

I would take my time. [ there's warmth there, in her tone, but also an affectation of poutiness. her fingers slip up again, now to smear his lips with his own precome... if he allows it. ] But precisely what grand plans are you thinking?

[ it would be its own pleasure, she's sure, for him to detail it. she likes hearing him talk. ]

[He does allow it, and it shines his lips as she drags a finger across them. Sholmes worries at his bottom lip ever so slightly, catching the tang of himself in his mouth.

She would take her time, she says — oh, he is quite sure she would. The purposeful way she touches him now, almost languishing in every action, makes that clear. Sholmes supposes it comes down to which scenario sounds the most enticing.

If nothing else, he can give her the pretty, indecent words that she asks for.]

Your legs spread wide and my tongue exploring the place between them. You have already teased me too much with your nearness — just how cruel of a mistress will you be, Ms Vaux?

[There is nothing about his tone that reveals he is displeased by this at all, of course.]

Though perhaps you would prefer me inside of you, instead. Clenched tight; warm, slick. Touching yourself all the while. I should remember every detail of you then, as well.

[ just like she thought it would, his answer paints a pretty picture and sends a series of warm, damp thrills all through her. he could suggest just about anything and she's sure her body would agree. it's evident in the bitten smile she gives him, amused and eager. ]

I think you should give me both.

[ wraps her arms around him, ostensibly an embrace. her skin is humid, slightly wet, and she thinks he feels good pressed against her, just sharing contact. ]

Out of your fondness for me.

[Sholmes buries his face in the crook of her neck, taking in scent and warmth. The curve of his smile brushes against her.

His heart thumps in his chest. He wonders if she can hear it, for how thunderous it feels in his ribs.]

Then get comfortable on the bed, my dear.

[ her Perception modifier is, alas, also a negative. pretend to be shocked. but she can feel it, that steady pulse beneath her palm when she cups his neck, rubs her thumb beneath his jaw. ]

Eager to have look at me, hm?

[ she can't blame him. a tiefling must look so exciting and exotic, to his eyes. with a sinuous sort of expertise, she shifts her weight from his lap and moves to lay in the middle of the bed. her tail whispers over him as she leaves him, this long, unwinding touch. then, feeling oddly teenage, she spreads her thighs ]

Quite so.

[It’s okay. It is not so dire rolling low against Sholmes.

His touch lingers against her as she slips away, making herself comfortable in this sorely unused bed in this sorely unused motel room. It is as though he does not want to be away from her heat for longer than necessary—again, self-indulgent detective that he is—but he does not have to be parted from her too long. Sholmes shifts over, knees pressed between her legs. His erection bobs between his own, hard and throbbing, but is very much ignored in favor of her own arousal.

He lowers himself, hands first wandering upwards to glide across her hips, her belly, temporarily resting at her sides where his fingers press gently into her form; his head follows, tasting at her wet cunt, a long and experimental upwards drag of the tongue.]

[ crooking a finger at him as he kneels: come here, come closer--and he does. she exhales a soft, tremoring sigh as he licks her, turning the hand she'd beckoned him with and sinking it into his hair. nicely scrunching and unscrunching her fingers over his scalp, tousling it; a reward for the detective.

murmured, ] Show me.

[ show her what? ]

[Mm? is the noise he makes, a reverberation on his tongue. Her kneading fingers in his hair—already so easiliy mussed even without an external force to displace it—have given him a strangely rakish look as he lifts his head at just the right angle to look up at Sprezzatura.]

Show you?

[Show her what, indeed.]

[ with a pang it hits her: he really is handsome. fuck. she hooks one leg gently over his shoulder and lets the other fall open, so that even with that point of contact, of her thigh resting against his cheek, she's still nicely spread for him. ]

Show me how you kiss, Detective.

[Ah. He shifts slightly so that they might both be comfortable, pushing his weight a little more onto his elbows which press into the mattress on each side of her.]

As you wish.

[A simple request, one that takes his mouth against her folds again, leading with his tongue but ending with his lips -- a kiss, as she requests, slow, at first, but taking little time before he's sucking at her clit. Lavishing in both taste and scent.]

Oh.

[ that's right, that's absolutely right. and with so little guidance, too. she exhales slowly, shakily, and skates her palm down her stomach to stroke at the back of one of Sholmes' hands, entreating. she wants to hold hands. hold her hand.

she throbs beneath his lips; wordless encouragement for what he's doing, and how. ]

Just like that, yes. Again.

[Her fingers grasp at his hand, and he thinks to himself what fond affectations are still present between them, even as he has his mouth buried between her legs, his tongue moving in slow, tracing circles when he isn’t kissing, sucking. Sholmes obliges, and happily so — he turns his wrist at just the right angle to twine his fingers through hers, if she allows for it.

Makes a pleasurable little noise at this gesture, of all things, and though handholding certainly has little to do with how she twitches beneath his tongue, he can appreciate both in equal measure. She asks him to continue, and so he does, though he never truly paused at all.]

[ it has more to do with it than you'd expect, Sholmes. a spark of pleasure runs through her as she helps him to lace their fingers; she bites her lip and muffles a laughing moan, because she wants to hear him instead. the sound of his sucking kisses, and his breathing as it fans over her. Mammon, it's all... so nice. incongruently relaxing. ]

Mmmmmn. More.

[ she pushes her toes into the small of his back, a playful nudge of encouragement. she'd do it to his buttock, but she can't actually... reach... ]

[He twines his fingers with hers, a tactile connection that will remain for as long as she wishes. His other hand, however, no longer feels content at her side, doing little more than remaining idle; it moves upwards, knuckles brushing beneath the curve of her breast. His limbs are quite long enough to reach, after all.

His mouth, however, continues its warm ministrations. Sucking languidly, giving her clit the focus it deserves to make her twitch in rhythm to his attentions. Yet, at some point, he does interrupt the process by flattening his tongue against her, gliding it upwards, long and slow.

Eyes flick up just to take her in. His lips shine from his efforts.]

Mm, and more still?

[ the unhurried nature of this is really doing it for her. pleasure running parallel. she twists and rocks herself beneath his lips with nothing short of deliberate hedonism; she doesn't urge him faster, only closer, and her tail only creeps so far down as to mirror his wandering hand, and strokes indulgently up and down his side. ]

Yes. [ just about a purr as she squirms gently in place. smiling down her body at him, and the very pretty sight he makes down there, indeed. ] You look perfect, Herlock.

[Pleasure running parallel — it had not been an exaggeration, and it still applies. Her praise is its own ego boost, coiling his belly with a new flare of heat. He loves this sight of her, the musky scent of their sex, the way she wiggles closer to him, unabashedly requesting more.]

And if only you could see yourself, Ms Vaux.

[He will make her wait just long enough for a compliment to be paid in turn, at least. The hand not clasped around her own trails up and down her torso.]

A stunning sight. Remarkable in many ways.

[ his fingers will brush through the thinnest film of sweat; she is not unaffected by all this ]

That was what mirror was for.

[ sometimes. ]

Room is so cold after your mouth. Sore already?

[He is absolutely throbbing for stimulation, if that is her meaning. The air is bracing when they’re apart, seemingly to highlight this further — not that they are very much apart, now, limbs still twined against her.

But she had appeared to enjoy the slow, indulgent nature of it all. Who is he to deny her? It is not as though she’s twisting his arm to do any of this.

Another slow, drawn-out lick. The tip of tongue teases at her clit.]

Taking my time. Would you prefer otherwise?

[ drops her head back on her shoulders, ah ]

Mmmmno.

[ she rather thinks she likes having Sholmes kissing her cunt and speaking to her in dulcet tones. the noted lack of urgency seems to make every touch feel more pronounced—more the reward than the motivation itself. Sprezzatura squeezes his hand, nice and slow ]

I could stay like this...

Forever?

[He kisses again, the warm sensation of his mouth doled out with a questing tongue and lingering lips slick with her wetness. His hand squeezes hers back, while his other draws little, idle circles along her torso with callused fingertips.

He draws it out, nice and slow, indeed.]

[ echoing: ] Forever.

[ the stretching of the moment finally realizes a shift; gasping once, soft but sharp, her stomach clenches under his palm. the same languid motions he's been keeping up from the very start are suddenly and hellishly there—she can feel his lips and tongue moving, acutely, all her nerves catching fire.

Sholmes will be able to tell he's getting there not least of all from the way she tosses her head back and reaches up above her head to clench her fist in the sheets. soft sounds—but getting louder. ]

Oh, please.

[Her muscles tensing under her touch is the first easily notable thing, but the rest come just as evidently, from the way she fists at the sheets, to the gentle sounds she begins to make. He thinks to himself that forever may not last at this point, but he also does not think she would complain terribly, not the way things are going now — and so Sholmes hums a little noise of appreciation, of encouragement, as she writhes a little against him.

What was once slow and languid begins to hasten, so slight. His tongue laves against her with a steadily increasing tempo, warm and uninterrupted, his hand sliding back down to lightly brace at her hip; his other remains holding onto hers, that connection still ever-present.]

[ oh, it is warm. that minute shift in his tongue's frictional glide prompts Sprezzatura's first full moan—low, nearly purring—and she arches on the bed, pulls her knees up so she can splay herself more open for him. everywhere his mouth touches feels like it's throbbing, wet, all the way deep into muscle and fat. it's perfect.

she unfurls her tail from his side and tries to wriggle it beneath him, to belatedly tend to his untouched cock. ]

Herlock. [ s q u e e z i n g his hand ] Just like that, just like that. Don't be shy. Do feel how wet you've made me? It's all for you.

[ surprise! she's a talker. ]

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