Post by devilinthedetails on Feb 12, 2018 7:43:01 GMT 10
Title: Desert Rose
Rating: R
Word Count: 904
Summary: Kalasin is sunburnt, and Kaddar cares for her.
Desert Rose
“You’re a red shrimp.” Kaddar had never tasted a shrimp before Kalasin, herself only introduced to the Yamani delicacy through her brother’s beloved Shinko, had insisted on importing crates of it from the Yamani Islands, but now it was a favorite metaphor and meal for him, a fact that never failed to bring a secret smile to Kalasin’s lips.
“No, I’m a green palm leaf.” Kalasin, sprawled on a silk divan with her unbound hair stirring in the breeze streaming through the curtains that flowed into the balcony outside their quarters, squirmed in mingled pain and pleasure. The burns on her face, neck, and shoulders where her finger-thin straps hadn’t shielded her from the strength of the Carthaki sun ached with heat—reminding her of the perils of playing with fire—but Kaddar’s palms were so gentle as they massaged green aloe lotion he made with his own hands and recipe that she wanted to moan the way she did when he made the divan rattle with the force of their lovemaking. She could have healed herself, of course, but mustering her magic would have made her exhausted bones shake with the effort, and the calming coolness of the aloe lotion felt better than the icy fire of her Gift. Besides Kaddar relished any opportunity that presented itself to touch her body, and she saw no reason to deny either of them that joy.
“Green or red, my point is that your pale skin is not made for the sun.” Kaddar rubbed aloe into the sunburnt tip of Kalasin’s nose. “You roast like a pig over a kitchen fire.”
“All things are made for the sun, Kaddar.” Kalasin tilted her nose into her husband’s tender ministrations. “Even the humble desert rose turns its petals to drink in the sun’s rays. Are you suggesting that an empress can’t do what a humble desert rose can?”
“You’re as red as a desert rose now, so I’m suggesting that an empress with skin as milky as the moon would be wise to wear a veil when she travels under the midday sun.” Kaddar’s hands drifted down to massage Kalasin’s sun-baked neck.
“Don’t give me grief about wearing a veil.” Kalasin’s neck knotted as she resisted the temptation to twist away from his touch and fix him with a frigid blue glare. “Your mother bothers me enough on that sore subject for both of you.”
“Relax.” Kaddar squeezed the tension out of her neck. “Don’t rake me over the coals about my mother. It’s not my fault that the gods surrounded me with headstrong women who refuse to get along because they’re too much alike. Now stop ruffling your feathers at me and remember I’m merely suggesting that you’d burn less if you wore a veil. A veil is practical and traditional. There’s a reason behind the custom you find so offensive, darling.”
“I don’t find the custom offensive.” Kalasin shook her head and felt strands of her hair stick in the aloe lotion smeared on her cheeks. “It’s the people who are adamant that I ought to wear a veil who seem to find my skin offensive.”
“Not offensive.” Kaddar’s hands rubbed at her shoulders, and, though it wasn’t necessary to treat her burns, nudged the straps of her dress down until her breasts were exposed. “Something far more dangerous. Seductive.”
“Do you find my skin seductive?” Innocent as a serpent, Kalasin slithered her hips backward into Kaddar’s and felt warmth flower inside her as there was a stiffening between Kaddar’s thighs.
“Only when it isn’t peeling off like a snake’s, and you know that happens whenever you burn no matter how much aloe I put on you.” Kaddar’s palms were kneading at her breasts.
“My breasts aren’t sunburnt.” Kalasin fought to speak when Kaddar’s lavishing attention on her breasts left her breathless.
“Are you certain of that?” Kaddar stroked a nipple into hardness while he teased the other with light circles around it. “You’re wearing a rather plunging neckline.”
“My neckline was perfectly modest until you yanked it down.” Kalasin thrust her hips against Kaddar’s again. “You’re just being possessive.”
“Most ladies find a possessive man irresistible.” Kaddar’s tone was smug as the finger that pinched Kalasin’s erect nipple.
“I find possessive men ugly as warts.” Kalasin craned her neck to glare up at her husband. “I know you only want me to wear a veil because you’re being frightfully possessive and can’t stomach the thought of other men beholding my beautiful face.”
“There are times when it’s more attractive for a woman to cultivate an aura of mystique.” Kaddar finally began coaxing her neglected nipple into hardness. “My main concern, though, is the damage you do to your poor skin when you turn it red and wrinkly as a shrimp.”
Studying him through her uplifted eyelashes, she saw that he truly was more worried about her sunburns than he was about what some whispered was the looseness of her lack of veil while riding. Relenting, she trailed a finger along the smooth tunic that covered his chest, promising in a murmur, “I’ll still travel unveiled, but I’ll wear a hat. Satisfied?”
“If you’re worried about my satisfaction, there’s something else you can do to please me.” Kaddar pressed against her, so she could feel that he was stiff as a spear, and, sliding her dress to her knees, she obliged him.
Rating: R
Word Count: 904
Summary: Kalasin is sunburnt, and Kaddar cares for her.
Desert Rose
“You’re a red shrimp.” Kaddar had never tasted a shrimp before Kalasin, herself only introduced to the Yamani delicacy through her brother’s beloved Shinko, had insisted on importing crates of it from the Yamani Islands, but now it was a favorite metaphor and meal for him, a fact that never failed to bring a secret smile to Kalasin’s lips.
“No, I’m a green palm leaf.” Kalasin, sprawled on a silk divan with her unbound hair stirring in the breeze streaming through the curtains that flowed into the balcony outside their quarters, squirmed in mingled pain and pleasure. The burns on her face, neck, and shoulders where her finger-thin straps hadn’t shielded her from the strength of the Carthaki sun ached with heat—reminding her of the perils of playing with fire—but Kaddar’s palms were so gentle as they massaged green aloe lotion he made with his own hands and recipe that she wanted to moan the way she did when he made the divan rattle with the force of their lovemaking. She could have healed herself, of course, but mustering her magic would have made her exhausted bones shake with the effort, and the calming coolness of the aloe lotion felt better than the icy fire of her Gift. Besides Kaddar relished any opportunity that presented itself to touch her body, and she saw no reason to deny either of them that joy.
“Green or red, my point is that your pale skin is not made for the sun.” Kaddar rubbed aloe into the sunburnt tip of Kalasin’s nose. “You roast like a pig over a kitchen fire.”
“All things are made for the sun, Kaddar.” Kalasin tilted her nose into her husband’s tender ministrations. “Even the humble desert rose turns its petals to drink in the sun’s rays. Are you suggesting that an empress can’t do what a humble desert rose can?”
“You’re as red as a desert rose now, so I’m suggesting that an empress with skin as milky as the moon would be wise to wear a veil when she travels under the midday sun.” Kaddar’s hands drifted down to massage Kalasin’s sun-baked neck.
“Don’t give me grief about wearing a veil.” Kalasin’s neck knotted as she resisted the temptation to twist away from his touch and fix him with a frigid blue glare. “Your mother bothers me enough on that sore subject for both of you.”
“Relax.” Kaddar squeezed the tension out of her neck. “Don’t rake me over the coals about my mother. It’s not my fault that the gods surrounded me with headstrong women who refuse to get along because they’re too much alike. Now stop ruffling your feathers at me and remember I’m merely suggesting that you’d burn less if you wore a veil. A veil is practical and traditional. There’s a reason behind the custom you find so offensive, darling.”
“I don’t find the custom offensive.” Kalasin shook her head and felt strands of her hair stick in the aloe lotion smeared on her cheeks. “It’s the people who are adamant that I ought to wear a veil who seem to find my skin offensive.”
“Not offensive.” Kaddar’s hands rubbed at her shoulders, and, though it wasn’t necessary to treat her burns, nudged the straps of her dress down until her breasts were exposed. “Something far more dangerous. Seductive.”
“Do you find my skin seductive?” Innocent as a serpent, Kalasin slithered her hips backward into Kaddar’s and felt warmth flower inside her as there was a stiffening between Kaddar’s thighs.
“Only when it isn’t peeling off like a snake’s, and you know that happens whenever you burn no matter how much aloe I put on you.” Kaddar’s palms were kneading at her breasts.
“My breasts aren’t sunburnt.” Kalasin fought to speak when Kaddar’s lavishing attention on her breasts left her breathless.
“Are you certain of that?” Kaddar stroked a nipple into hardness while he teased the other with light circles around it. “You’re wearing a rather plunging neckline.”
“My neckline was perfectly modest until you yanked it down.” Kalasin thrust her hips against Kaddar’s again. “You’re just being possessive.”
“Most ladies find a possessive man irresistible.” Kaddar’s tone was smug as the finger that pinched Kalasin’s erect nipple.
“I find possessive men ugly as warts.” Kalasin craned her neck to glare up at her husband. “I know you only want me to wear a veil because you’re being frightfully possessive and can’t stomach the thought of other men beholding my beautiful face.”
“There are times when it’s more attractive for a woman to cultivate an aura of mystique.” Kaddar finally began coaxing her neglected nipple into hardness. “My main concern, though, is the damage you do to your poor skin when you turn it red and wrinkly as a shrimp.”
Studying him through her uplifted eyelashes, she saw that he truly was more worried about her sunburns than he was about what some whispered was the looseness of her lack of veil while riding. Relenting, she trailed a finger along the smooth tunic that covered his chest, promising in a murmur, “I’ll still travel unveiled, but I’ll wear a hat. Satisfied?”
“If you’re worried about my satisfaction, there’s something else you can do to please me.” Kaddar pressed against her, so she could feel that he was stiff as a spear, and, sliding her dress to her knees, she obliged him.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!