RP post: Saffron

[scots_wolf]

It's warm in Urquhart's room tonight. When they brought up the white sangria, the rats already lighted the braziers, so there is light and warmth when Urquhart and Saffron enter.

The flickering lights reflect from the tiles and the copper trays doubling as tabletops, and shimmer on the shallow pool by latticed windows.

"We won't get cold," Urquhart says, grinning at her.

Comments

[yosafbridge]

"That wasn't my intent anyway," she murmurs. She hasn't been wearing many layers to begin with - whoever said redheads couldn't pull off red was clearly lying, because the scarlet dress she wears is colored deeply enough to complement her hair rather than clash with it.

Slowly, Saffron reaches up behind the curtain of her red curls to undo the bow that ties around her neck, pulling it loose with a slow tug.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart watches her. He does refresh their drinks, but he doesn't take his eyes off her for more than half a heartbeat.

[yosafbridge]

It's not the only thing holding her dress up - not by any means, and she keeps the front of the dress pressed against her breasts with her forearm, swiveling around to expose her back to him.

"There's a zipper, just there. Would you mind?"

[scots_wolf]

"What do I do with it?" Urquhart asks, putting down the glasses and coming up behind her.

[yosafbridge]

"Pulling it down, of course," she purrs, as if there were any other thing he would do with it.

It's an excuse, really, to wait until he's just behind her before she presses back against him, grinding her backside into his hips.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart bends his head, and kisses her neck. Long blond hair slides over her shoulders, like a caress all of its own.

[yosafbridge]

One of her arms slides up and back, her hand moving around to cup the back of his neck while she sighs, presses into him.

The top half of the dress, undone, slips down to bare her breasts to him when she shifts, tilts her head to expose more of her neck to him, strands of her red hair sliding through his lighter ones.

[scots_wolf]

He bends deeper to kiss the top of her breasts, pale and firm and soft.

His hands find the little metal tab at her back, and pulls. The dress opens, as if by magic.

[yosafbridge]

It only requires a small wriggling of her hips to let the dress slip down her body in a whisper of fabric, pooling around her ankles.

Beneath it, there's only skin, pale and soft and warm against his hands, and she finally turns around to face him, pressing her body to his.

"We've got a long night of catching up to do," Saffron says softly.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart slides his hands down her back. They are large and warm and unexpectedly gentle.

"We do," he murmurs, kissing her. "And we have all night for it."

[yosafbridge]

"Good," she says, her own hands caressing over the strength idling beneath his arms.

"Because I can think of a few things I'd love to do with that fruit over there."

[scots_wolf]

"Bananas?" Urquhart says, all innocent.

He is definitely still wearing too much.

[yosafbridge]

"Not quite," she murmurs, and presses a lengthy kiss to the place where a small piece of his chest is bared through his shirt.

"Lay down," Saffron coaxes.

[scots_wolf]

He complies, lying down on the rug-covered divan. Where his shirt is open a little, the generous, pale fluff on his chest is visible.

He smiles at her, expectantly.

[yosafbridge]

She reaches for one of the glasses into which he's served some of the fruit-laden sangria, and then brings it, kneeling beside him, her red hair spilling over her shoulders while she settles.

Her eyes shine with mischief, and her hands move to tug his shirt up over his chest, baring more of his fur-covered skin to her. Her fingers dip inside the glass to recover a piece of sliced peach, and she holds it out over his chest, wringing the chilled juices onto his skin. Saffron pushes the fruit into her mouth, chewing slowly, and then lowers her head to lap up the juice from his body with long, slow swipes of her tongue.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart lies back, and chuckles as the sticky juices trickle through his pelt.

He chuckles more, pleased and excited by the way her tongue teases his chest. There is the slightest, sweetest hint of pain with the pleasure.

Urquhart enjoys it. He likes an edge.

[yosafbridge]

The caresses of her tongue slowly descend, lower and lower, down his chest and stomach and underneath his navel, and then her hands gently tug down his trousers, grabbing another piece of fruit to drizzle juices over the hard angle of his hipbone.

She hums against his hip, the sweet juice contrasting with the salt of his skin, teasing him with slow licks and nibbles.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart arches his back, sighing with surprised pleasure. She has such good ideas!

Enjoying Urquhart with fruit.

[yosafbridge]

She likes this, likes being able to draw him out slowly, with noises that prove to her how much he's enjoying things like this. And it's not completely one-sided, either; she can feel her own excitement growing as she shifts her weight, settling down between his legs.

Her fingers are wet and sticky, and she picks up one last slice of peach, the fruit swollen with a combination of its own juice and the sangria it's absorbed, and squeezes it out underneath his navel, letting the juice trickle down between his legs and over his length, and then urges the peach between his lips while she tilts her head down to take him into her mouth, seeking out the remnants of the fruit's nectar as she sucks him.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart gives a long moan.

She is like nobody else. Nobody!

What a delightful imagination!

[yosafbridge]

She answers with a moan of her own, the sound sending vibrations up and down and around the length of him when she takes him deeper into her mouth.

Her fingers find his hip, gently digging in, as she finds an easy rhythm, her head bobbing as her tongue licks and laps to recover the taste of peaches as she finds it.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart moans loudly, his control just good enough not to buck upwards and give her trouble.

His hands tighten on the rug, though, nails raking through the silky, colourful pile.

[yosafbridge]

She knows to stop before he's reached the point of no return, drawing him out just enough to keep him hard and ready for her.

Saffron slides up to lay on top of him, fingers combing through the long, blonde strands of his hair.

"Like that?"

[scots_wolf]

"Oh yes," he gasps. "I do! What a great thing to do with fruit."

[yosafbridge]

She wriggles to straddle him just so, grinding down to let the tip of him slide between her folds, teasing them both for just a few moments longer.

"It's the least I can do," she says, whispering the words against his mouth, shuddering slightly as she resists the urge to guide him inside her, to feel his cock buried deep.

"The very least."