Post by TEAGAN TEAGAN TEAGAN TEAGAN TE on Jun 10, 2008 22:37:13 GMT -5
At the very least, their hormones were happy.
Lucre explained that Teagan was the only one for him as far as all the other gals went. His tantalizing breath brushing against her neck made her drowsy. Was he sure he was a human? He never stated he was. Perhaps he was a very seductive human, one who used very seductive man perfume. The flesh where his finger trailed on her made her nerves tingle numbly. She shivered, but she did not know why--Was there a trickle of terror behind this invasive fuzzy feeling, was her sudden excitement going to express itself against her wishes, was there menace behind Lucre's motions that she was not conscious of?
Hell, he kept capturing her so easily... Why not dare to take the potential danger with the definite threat?
She listened carefully. She stayed still while he repositioned himself.
He said that he knew she liked being with him "like this." She flat-out, against her will and every other desire, liked being with him. She did not understand the "like this" part. Maybe he meant being physical. As in perverted physical.
Teagan was now a pervert.
She wondered if the castle would fall down now and the planet invert itself because of such a bizarre thing. Yet, time continued forth.
He also called her "baby." This would not do.
"Don't call me 'baby,'" she eventually whispered.
He gave her complete control over him, begging her to stop trying to be so difficult and unfriendly and strong. He wanted to make her happy, too. Also, a force was keeping them together (after all the chaos she went through to stay away, Teagan could believe that). He asked her if she liked him.
This had to be the absolute cheesiest speech she ever heard, but, as much as she would not admit it, it made her feel a little more comfortable. Just a little. Not a lot. Just a teensy, weensy, tiny smudge more.
As far as she was concerned, though, he was certainly off his rockers to talk so much and risk just as much. Teagan supposed she would have to talk a little in this relationship--he spoke paragraphs (literally), and she occasionally released a sentence or two every once in a while. He knew what he was doing, and she had not a clue. He was completely open, and she was pulling herself more deeply into her shell. He was friendly, and, well, she threw the people who dared talk to her off of towers.
After a moment, the tingling finally cooling down, Teagan somehow managed to think of how to respond. She was not used to personal conversations at all. The only things she usually said aloud used logic or orders. She did not... socialize.
He was definitely a seducer of some sort.
"I," she began, looking timidly into his eyes. She started again, even more softly, her sincere voice barely above a whisper. "I like you..."
The spidery fingers of her warm right hand slowly slid against his left hand at her waist. They delicately curled around his own fingers, gingerly clasping them as if they were artifacts so archaic they might dissolve at her touch. She did not try moving them; she only clasped them very tenderly.
Blinking only every few moments to right her color-seeing contacts, her russet eyes remained hypnotized by his charcoal ones. Were they the reason for these atypical unsteady stutters?
"You--You can," she began slowly, unable to look away, "stay as long as... you want."
Lucre explained that Teagan was the only one for him as far as all the other gals went. His tantalizing breath brushing against her neck made her drowsy. Was he sure he was a human? He never stated he was. Perhaps he was a very seductive human, one who used very seductive man perfume. The flesh where his finger trailed on her made her nerves tingle numbly. She shivered, but she did not know why--Was there a trickle of terror behind this invasive fuzzy feeling, was her sudden excitement going to express itself against her wishes, was there menace behind Lucre's motions that she was not conscious of?
Hell, he kept capturing her so easily... Why not dare to take the potential danger with the definite threat?
She listened carefully. She stayed still while he repositioned himself.
He said that he knew she liked being with him "like this." She flat-out, against her will and every other desire, liked being with him. She did not understand the "like this" part. Maybe he meant being physical. As in perverted physical.
Teagan was now a pervert.
She wondered if the castle would fall down now and the planet invert itself because of such a bizarre thing. Yet, time continued forth.
He also called her "baby." This would not do.
"Don't call me 'baby,'" she eventually whispered.
He gave her complete control over him, begging her to stop trying to be so difficult and unfriendly and strong. He wanted to make her happy, too. Also, a force was keeping them together (after all the chaos she went through to stay away, Teagan could believe that). He asked her if she liked him.
This had to be the absolute cheesiest speech she ever heard, but, as much as she would not admit it, it made her feel a little more comfortable. Just a little. Not a lot. Just a teensy, weensy, tiny smudge more.
As far as she was concerned, though, he was certainly off his rockers to talk so much and risk just as much. Teagan supposed she would have to talk a little in this relationship--he spoke paragraphs (literally), and she occasionally released a sentence or two every once in a while. He knew what he was doing, and she had not a clue. He was completely open, and she was pulling herself more deeply into her shell. He was friendly, and, well, she threw the people who dared talk to her off of towers.
After a moment, the tingling finally cooling down, Teagan somehow managed to think of how to respond. She was not used to personal conversations at all. The only things she usually said aloud used logic or orders. She did not... socialize.
He was definitely a seducer of some sort.
"I," she began, looking timidly into his eyes. She started again, even more softly, her sincere voice barely above a whisper. "I like you..."
The spidery fingers of her warm right hand slowly slid against his left hand at her waist. They delicately curled around his own fingers, gingerly clasping them as if they were artifacts so archaic they might dissolve at her touch. She did not try moving them; she only clasped them very tenderly.
Blinking only every few moments to right her color-seeing contacts, her russet eyes remained hypnotized by his charcoal ones. Were they the reason for these atypical unsteady stutters?
"You--You can," she began slowly, unable to look away, "stay as long as... you want."