The Secret Chamber (For Akuma)

[CyanDimitrik]

She rather likes the way her name sounds in her voice. She wants to hear it more often. Another reason to keep her around. But does she need more reasons? What even is she planning with her? She has no idea.

But that's why she's playing it 'safe'. At least, safe in her mind. It's complicated and more than a little convoluted. But her comfort zone is assertiveness. Control. Predictability in people and circumstances. Like with this, with squeezing Beatrice. She predicts the girl will melt into her very willingly. Which she seems to do. She also predicts she'll want to kiss her again.

'Take me' was not expected.

Should she do that? Just... go into it? Take her? Press her down into the couch and have her fun with her?

Her arms slide lower along her back to secure a better grip, and then they clench again. This takes the pressure off her toes and allows Nefret to support her weight more fully in her grasp. Which happens to mean holding her upper-body tighter to herself. It really was the only thing missing from their match before - that exquisite feel of skin against skin. It was almost a tease, spending so much time grappling with her, pinning her down, knowing she felt an attraction to her, and on some level deeply wanting to feel her body.

"Not here..," she murmurs to her. "But I will." Her head tilts, finally letting her soft lips touch Bea's. It's a teasing lip-nibble, focusing on her lower lip, toying with it before adding, "My people could come back any second. So tell me..." Her head tilts in just a hair closer, finally giving her a full kiss. Lips knead to lips, in no hurry to finish her sentence. But eventually, she adds that finish: "...what made you give yourself to me tonight?"

[BlackAkuma]

In Beatrice’s fanfics, this would be the part where she did a fade-out. Honestly, she wasn’t that good at writing the, uh, more mature scenes, or so her critics on adultfanfiction.net liked to tell her whenever the site actually worked for longer than three minutes. Finding the right words to make it evocative and effective was hard, and she often was left with scenes that looked like they were written by an AI trying to describe a porno. Flat. Lifeless. Cheesy, and not in a good way.

This was different. This was better. This is what Beatrice wanted - two lovers, meeting in secret, sharing passion in the shadows. She could almost see the words on the page. The night they could have together.

But not now. Not here.

There was no hiding the look of disappointment, but it was brief and vanished completely when the kiss came. Featherlight and fleeting, the smallest taste of what she could have, but much more than she could’ve ever asked for. Her lips were still moving when they parted. Nefret’s mouth had something more interesting to do, though.

That was an interesting question. Why did she come here, exactly? What brought her over.

At first Beatrice did like she always did, hesitating and hedging, but the answer struck a moment later ”Because you’re interesting. I think you might be the most interesting person I’ve ever met.” It was so easy to get lost in those eyes. It was like hypnosis. ”You’re gorgeous, but if that was it, I don’t think I’d have come. I’m a storyteller, I like stories, and the story we told in the ring…”

She leaned in, closed her eyes, and pressed her forehead to Nefret’s. Enjoying the touch. The connection. ”I want to see how it ends.”

[CyanDimitrik]

Nefret doesn't shy away from the touch of her forehead to hers. Rather, the Egyptian adds just a slight amount of motion, side to side brushing in what some might dare to suggest is cuddling. They would no doubt be struck hard for such utterance. Even if the motion causes their noses to gently rub together.

"A storyteller...," she murmurs; not in mockery, but in interest. "Is that so?" The question comes out barely above a breath. "So am I. Everything you've seen.. it's all story.. I have yet to tell the people who I am, what I am about, so I don't fault you for now knowing..."

A knee subtly slips forward with the express purpose of brushing her thigh between hers. The sense of Bea's body against hers is comfortable, warm, even sweet. The girl has gone from cute to endearing, and now that she's feeling her body against her, a natural attraction is there. A pull. Something magnetic about her honesty, something charming about it. Even disarming. Albeit gradually.

"..there is so much you don't know about me," she realizes as she lets her eyes fall shut. "Is this what you want? To know me?" Her head tilts again, this time upwards to brush her lips tantalizingly against Bea's before whispering, "Or is the end you seek only pleasure?"

[BlackAkuma]

Both storytellers, then?

Beatrice had sort of sensed that about Nefret. Most people would’ve been satisfied with simply squashing her in brutal fashion and being done with it - one or two moves, then a pinfall if she was lucky or a submission hold if she wasn’t. It would’ve efficient. Easy. Quick.

Boring.

She got the impression that would’ve been the greatest sin for Nefret - to be unremarkable, unmemorable, and on that they certainly agreed.

Beatrice’s hands moved over Nefret’s body now, daring to move about her hips, teasing at going lower but not traveling there just. It didn’t feel okay to do that just yet. She wasn’t sure when she would know itwas okay, only that she would know.

At the feel of the knee between hers, Beatrice provided some reason at first - just a little, enough to make Nefret work for it, but not enough to truly stop her. She opened up at the slightest effort and let it, wanting that thigh against her.

Those lips again, playing against her own. Beatrice swore, she wanted nothing more than to close that distance, but she held herself back for now, showing a modicum of restraint.”I want the pleasure…” She dipped in, pressing their lips a touch close, just by milimeters. ”...of knowing you.”