Now, I finally got that scene typed up in Trickster's Folly. Go me. So proud of myself. With no internet I didn't have anything else to do. Other than read 'Survivals of Roman Religion' for the umpteenth time, but only I'd enjoy that dusty tome that much, but I digress. Keep in mind, this is a quasi PG-13 clip and it hasn't been edited to my normal OCD levels. It's just a teaser.
Happy Friday, folks!
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“I
can’t believe you signed those divorce papers.” Rayna emerged from the bathroom
posed artfully, one arched foot on top of the cream colored seat of dressing
stool. The twisty vines of metal forming the base accenting her other calf as
it narrowed into a two-toned emerald and taupe shoe made of multiple, thin
straps which had to have graced a denuded street hustler somewhere.
Up
and up, Amber’s tired eyes dragged as more than her libido woke following lithe
lines of knee to thigh to where lush loveliness disappeared underneath a shell
of matching green dress. “Your dress is really pretty, even if it is kind of
crooked. It’s a nice green color.” From the sudden bloom of red high on Rayna’s
cheeks, Amber’s customary lack of fashion sense turned the smaller woman’s
crank – again.
“This
is a Grecian style, it is meant to be off one shoulder. It is an elegant style
you heathen – it is not crooked.” Her
sharp little nose popped right into the air, damn but it was sexy. It was all
she could do to keep herself sprawled on the floor at Rayna’s feet, to keep
acting like she was bored out of her mind by the frippery, and just a bit
amused when all she wanted to do was muss that fine dress while Rayna’s leg stayed
hiked up in that vulgar way.
“Oh,
it’s Greek. That’s why it’s olive
colored,” Amber nodded and stared at Rayna’s foot like it was fascinating.
“It
is not olive! It is sea green, there is a huge difference! One would think you
were completely color blind!” She huffed tossing her arms, which caught Amber’s
eye. One hand held the second shoe, the other a slim bit of yellow colored
leather. Whatever could that be for,
she mused?
“Aren’t you ever going to get dressed?” Rayna
might be thrilled as a pig in poop to attend the black-tie fundraiser for animals’
rights groups, but Amber was getting the impression she was probably the only
one. Well, Rayna, and possibly Princess Pain-in-the-ass, Celena. But still,
Amber would rather sit at home with Huginn and Steve and watch her toenails
grow.
Grumbling,
she pulled off her bathrobe to reveal she was still wearing her vambraces, the
leather vest that protected her shoulders against Hugs claws, and bikini
underwear. “I’ve showered before you. Can you make me presentable in the time
given, oh, my queen?”
“Yes,
smarty pants,” the answering smile was soft, playful and full of hidden
meaning. Quickly Rayna slid on her second shoe then walked over, stride slow,
measured. With a quick furtive movement she slid her hands around Amber’s neck.
If it were not for decades of trust, Amber would have pulled away, but she
didn’t. She stayed, trusting, loving the tiny woman in front of her more than
anything possible. When she felt something small, thing and almost tight cinch
around her neck, she had an odd notion of what it was, a sort of collar, if she
was right. Looming over Amber, Rayna swallowed nervously, smiled, and then
commanded, “Take out your braid, and let your hair fall naturally over your
skin.” Perking a brow at the order, but interested at this change of pace Amber
did as directed.
Keeping
her golden eyes on Rayna’s limpid brown one’s, she unhurriedly freed the elastic
end then used her fingers to brush the entwined length into a long curtain of
waves flowing over her back, over her shoulders, down her arms. It itched, brushing
over her skin, and she wished it was elsewhere, but if it made her lover happy,
she was more than content to indulge Rayna’s fantasy.
A
click sounded almost overloud in the small room. From somewhere Rayna had found
a length of gold-plated chain and attached it to the collar now clasped around
Amber’s neck. Really into this ‘amber for
Amber’ theme aren’t you, she chuckled inwardly. “Take off the vest,” Rayna
ordered, her voice low, cracking with emotion.
Amber
nearly grinned. The last time Rayna tried to top from the bottom she made it
about this far and then just started begging for what she wanted. Not a
problem, not like Amber had any qualms about giving the goddess trying not to
bite her lip in sudden indecision exactly
what she wanted, but then again if being in control or in charge was part of
what she wanted…how to make her curb this indecisiveness? Amber’s inner sadist
woke and howled with glee.
Sitting
back on her haunches, Amber let her weight rest on her heels. She kept her gaze
on the throbbing pulse point in Rayna’s throat, her body loose, elbows down,
shoulders flat, posture almost as perfect as if she were trying out for a
swimsuit model piece on the beach – the only difference being her hands were
slowly, deftly moving to pop the buttons one at a time from bottom to top. As
if Rayna realized and reacted even harder to the impersonal show, Amber frowned
and pulled back.
“You’ve
gotta be kidding,” she pouted, angling a glance upward through dark lashes.
Holding the top buttons, she arched her back, tilted her hips, and pulled out
every trick she could recall seeing a stripper toss in her direction while
stuck in the same direction. When Rayna’s eyes nearly popped, Amber smiled slow
and hot.
“Uh,
uh. No way. You wanted to master this beast, remember?” Her muscular arms
stretched out, then folded back, submissive. “You got the chain, you’re in
control.” On her knees she crowded closer, using her nose, she rubbed the soft
flesh of Rayna’s knee, slipping the silk of her dress higher, but still not breaking
eye contact. “You wanted to be in control then do it.” Amber’s breath fanned
out between Rayna’s spread thighs, ah the naughty girl was only wearing the
tiniest of lace thongs. If it weren’t for the liner on the dress, the silk
would be ruined with a single wrong placed lick. “Can you do it? Can you bring
me to heel?”
Rayna
shook like a palsy victim. Absently her left hand spooled the slack of the
chain as she bent over her lover and would-be-slave. “I think I can handle
this, so kiss me – now.” Grinning like a sinner, Amber leaned in and gave her exactly what she asked for.
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