omens and portents (Myrna)

[Myrna]

Myrna did begin to think that she was pushing Zenethil far too much, because the conflict within his eyes was growing more visible. It was also taking pains upon his mind as well, and she wondered if she had crossed a line that was too fragile to begin with. Here was a man that had been so convinced and steady in his convictions, and yet she had managed to crumble them into dust in a few moments. A little unnerving that she could wield power over the Knight Captain, and yet she felt no thrill in it like she usually would. Power and control had always been alluring to her, but the young woman found her intentions much less darker than usual. A part of her wished to help him, because he was a strong man clinging to beliefs that were rather childish and ignorant in her mind. Patience was useful for certain, but to the extent he used it? People needed to get angry and desire, or life would be rather empty in the long run. Myrna said no more as Zenethil continued to war with himself within his mind.

The slight of his cheek against her palm was progress, and so she kept her hand there. She watched as his eyes closed slightly, and Myrna could tell he was no longer thinking quite as much about fighting his desires. Had he spent so many years going about his way like this? She almost felt sorry for her, but she had never liked pity all that much. Her thumb brushed across the curve of his cheek absently, staring up at him through hooded crimson eyes. And what was to happen next? Myrna's eyes widened as Zenethil suddenly leaned down and pressed his lips against her. Her breath caught, and she felt a pleasant shock travel along her body. The action was certainly unexpected, and quite unlike what she was used to from a kiss. Innocent, sweet and more intoxicating than anything she had been indulged with. It was over far too soon, and before Myrna could even have herself respond back to it.

She blinked away her shock after a moment, and immediately caught Zenethil swirling within a tangled web of confusion and anxiety returned. Her head tilted, her brow raised in question at his stumbling apologies. Myrna was certainly not sorry, and she merely shook her head with a small smile curling upon her lips. "Why do you apologize? I am not some unwilling, innocent maiden ignorant to such actions. I regret it not, and neither should you," Myrna reassured lightly. Zenethil was quite amusing to attempt to break down, but he was rather charming in an odd way. Had he never experienced the simple pleasures that could arise between a man and a woman? A shame that was, because he was not unattractive by any stretch of the word. His appearance was certainly chiseled by battle and hardship, but she found that tasteful.

[Zenethil]

The conflict raged on, despite his newfound reserves of... Well, reserve. She brought forward feelings from deep within him that he had long since buried under a life of devotion, war and piety. Long had they festered, clamouring to get his attention, even for but a minute. But every time they did, he had buried them once again. But this time... This time, they could no longer be smothered, buried into obscurity. They flared into his mind. But they did so in a surprisingly gentle way. They cried out simply to show some affection. In particular, at this very moment, for the spectacular young woman before him.

Once again, she spoke, and he listened. The words, rolling so softly from those delightful lips, spoke of no regret. Not from her. And urging him to lose any thoughts as such himself. In the blink of an eye, he thought on her words that she was not an innocent, unwilling maiden. That she certainly was not. She was coaxing this out of him. Why? He could not tell you. But coax she did. And it was a strangely exhilarating, uplifting and liberating experience. For possibly the first time in his life, he cast aside the shackles he wore so tightly, and gave in to the side that had long been neglected.

He stepped back towards Myrna, tentatively at first, before steeling himself, and pacing forward again, more surely, one hand reaching up, mirroring her earlier action, cupping her cheek. He leaned in, his hand dropping beneath her chin, a single finger tilting her head back, his other hand seeking out her own. His head tilted to the side. Breathing shallowly, his lips pressed gently against hers, but unlike before, he remained there, reveling in the sensations that now washed through him.

[Myrna]

Myrna wondered if this was what a child looked like when told they could have something for the very first time. It was as if Zenethil needed permission to leave behind his constraints of patience and piety, and she was the one he sought for an affirmative. This was quite unlike anything she had coaxed out of someone before, and he appeared so innocent and hesitant that it baffled her. Myrna had encountered quiet and contemplative men before, but a few simple words had them falling into her thrall readily enough. This was much more different, because Zenethil was battling with himself and years of ingrained meditation and practices. Myrna found this to be very different than what she usually experienced, and assumed a patient and steady hand was needed to guide him through this. Ironic, no? Using patience to discard patience. She would have laughed, but why break the moment?

She watched with curious eyes as Zenethil appeared to come to some sort of decision within his mind. He stepped back toward her, and she merely glanced up at him with a quirked brow. There was a timidness to his step, but he soon moved more confidently toward her. She would allow him to instigate this next move, because it was entirely up to him. It was a little surprising that he would choose to do so, since she was a stranger to him. Only her name was known to him, but perhaps that was the allure? Myrna knew nothing of his personal life or inner mind, and so who was she to judge? Strangers were much more preferable to friends and family in that regard. Carmine eyes closed partway, continuing to watch him as he raised his hand toward her cheek.

An intimate gesture, and one she was not quite used to receiving. Affection was not an action she had been given throughout her life, and part of it did scare her. Passion and lust were familiar and welcome, but he was treating her almost like a fragile doll. As if she would disappear from his grasp, and that fact would break him. Like his first kiss had been. All sweetness and innocent trepidation, and it was so odd. Her own breath caught for a moment, following his movement that lifted her head back. There was an odd lightness in her stomach, and Myrna was caught off guard as his other hand reached for her own. What was he doing? Her thoughts scattered as his lips pressed against her own once more, and her crimson eyes closed completely. Her from was pliant against his, and he could do what he wished with her. There was such gentleness to his kiss that Myrna was unsure of how to respond.

Passionate lust was so much different than this gentle sweetness.

[Zenethil]

So this was what it felt like. It was pure bliss. Calm and tranquility flowed over him like liquid over a heated rock, soothing, cooling. The tensions of the past few days dulled, lessened, so absorbed was he in the intimacy of the moment. She seemed to lose all resistance, clearly taken aback, the hitching of her breath revealing that much, her willing compliance with his tender kiss saying the rest. He lifted her hand to his face, relishing in the touch that had broken the dam, pausing in his kiss enough to brush his cheeks against her fingers. He released her hand, before taking both sides of her face gently in the palms of his own hands, before kissing her full on the mouth, still tender, but with a little more urgency, more passion, less restrained.

The sensations pounding through his nerves were like water to a man dying of thirst. Land to a drowning man. The bliss of finding that which, unbeknownst to him, he had needed so much, was almost unbearable. His lips pressed against hers more firmly, head tilting further to the side, hands sliding to caress her neck oh-so-delicately, resting there as his lips began, of their own accord, to part lightly against hers. He was blundering through this, simply doing what felt right. Uncaring of the consequences. For the first time in his life, he simply gave himself over to instinct.

[Myrna]

Myrna was unused to being this compliant toward someone, but the gentleness was still reeling. When had the control of the situation passed onto Zenethil? Had she not been the one coaxing him, and yet now he was doing so with her. There was a lightness she felt to her body, feeling a slight dizziness that almost had her swaying upon her feet. The young woman took a few shallow breaths through her nose, wishing she could steady herself against this. Take control back, but why should she show resistance? Myrna could not deny that this was a pleasurable experience, and she enjoyed taking pleasure whenever it presented itself to her. From that interested her, those that challenged her, and Zenethil was doing both in this moment. Even if he did not realize such a thing, and being this taken by a simple kiss was addicting. Hazy thoughts began to scatter again as the Knight lifted their entwined hands upward.

Carmine eyes opened slightly, watching as he brought her hand to brush against his cheek once more. Their lips parted as he appeared to relish and treasure the brief, simple contact of her fingers against his skin. A few shaky breaths escaped her, blinking as the fog dimmed for a moment. Dazed eyes stared up at Zenethil, unsure of why his presence was muddling her like this. Warm palms cupped her cheeks, and his lips descended upon her own once more. There was more than just innocent curiosity, and the urgent passion beneath the tenderness was more to her flavor. This she could manipulate into her favor, and she felt herself begin to regain a more steady footing. Myrna lifted her arms, sliding them about his neck to tangle within his hair. A more steady pressure of her lips against his, and she felt a familiar enjoyment to this sensation.

Myrna twined her body against his as much as her armor allowed, pleased with the movements of his fingers caressing the skin of her neck. There was a need to Zenethil that she was more than happy to sate at the moment, because she was beginning to feel it as well. His lips parted against her own, and she could tell that this was a first for him. Teeth nipped lightly at his bottom lip, pressing a little more harshly into the kiss. While his was a tender passion, her own was wicked and wild thing that she had never attempted to curb. Myrna took all that was offered, and so she would take everything Zenethil was giving her. One hand slipped from his hair, trailing lightly down his neck and over his chest just a little mischievously.

[Zenethil]

The phrase 'in over your head' had never applied to Zenethil before. Ever cautious, he never dove into situations recklessly, into situations where the odds weren't in his favour. He aimed to preserve life, particularly because when he slipped up, people died. And he would not bear the lives lost because of his failings. He refused to. But here... He was more than in over his head. He was so far out of his depth, an anchor tied to his waist would do little to make his situation more precarious. His initial forays, as delicate and innocent as they were, had clearly shaken Myrna somewhat. She was clearly a woman unused to tenderness. Much like Zenethil. Her breathing was shaky, uneven, as though she didn't know how to respond.

His more impassioned motions, however, were met with the reaction of a woman who clearly knew what she was doing. Her hands twined through his hair, her body, despite being clad in armour, pushed against his body exquisitely, the closeness of the contact sending Zenethil's mind reeling further. If his renewed kiss had been a leap across a stream, hers crossed a river. His breathing quickened as her teeth sank into his bottom lip, not enough to break the skin, but enough to cause his mind to sway from the contact. A darker part of his mind was gleefully reminding him that this was what he had been denying himself his entire life. And it was heeded. One of her hands slid down from his unkempt looking hair, gliding down his neck, tormenting his chest with the gentle, but very much teasing touch.

The more animalistic part of Zenethil, so long brought to heel, so long thought tamed beyond repair, joyously flared into life once again, as it's cage burst open, torn apart by Myrna's intoxicating presence, as his hands ceased to cradle her face, one sliding delicately to the back of her neck, and the other traced a line, slowly, inexorably, down her jawline, following the graceful slope of her shoulder, to her collarbone, down that to the swell of her bosom, following it's curvature, tracing a curved line down her exposed midriff, coming to rest upon her waist. It was a delicate motion, but utterly without innocence. He was, without realising it properly, so lost in sensation, sampling the delights that her body had to offer. He pulled her head as his hand settled on her waist, lips crushing against hers, a full and unrestrained, open mouthed kiss, no longer tender, but alight with the flames of passion. And he relished every moment of it.

[Myrna]

Myrna enjoyed toying and playing with her new objects of interest, and Zenethil just happened to be that at the moment. Her mind was a pleasurable haze, and she certainly would not object if he wished to take things further. No doubt she would have much to show him, and the young woman enjoyed pleasure where ever she could take it. It was good to know that the Knight Commander was enjoying this as much as she was, and it almost felt nice to have someone so reclusive to open up this much. How easily twined he was becoming around her finger due to his own suppressed desire. Oh, Myrna was getting a little too ahead of herself again, and she should really just enjoy the kiss for what it was. Coaxing him from his patient ways was a fun task she had taken, and he was passing with flying colors so far. Such natural talent that had gone to waste for so long, and it would be such a shame to leave it that way.

It was easy to tell that her more forward gestures had his mind reeling. Honestly, that had been rather innocent to what she was really capable of. His hands began to slide down her body, and it was a very pleasurable sensation she enjoyed. Myrna nearly purred as his one hand traces the outline of her jaw, down along her chest, and lightly tracing her stomach to rest upon her waist. Yes, Zenethil certainly had natural talent in abundance, and she delighted in the thought of experiencing more of what he had to offer. The kiss became much more forceful. and she eagerly met the movements of his lips with her own. Myrna tightened the grip she had on his hair, nails scratching lightly against his scalp as she devoured him. Her lungs were beginning to ache for air, but she was content to ignore it for the time being.

She used her free hand to slide back up his body in a tortuously slow movement, nails scratching slightly against the clothed skin. Giving one last nip at his bottom lip, she pulled away to catch her breath. Her chest rose up and down as her lungs filled with desperately needed air. Carmine eyes were hooded as she stared up at him, licking her kiss swollen lips with a smirk. "Mm, you certainly kiss like you have done this before," she purred, twirling a strand of his hair around her index finger playfully. At least she sounded in control of herself, which Myrna was proud of. Leaving them to want more was always the fun part of the game. If Zenethil got to experience too much at once, then what would he have to look forward to later? Besides, pushing him too far would perhaps not be the best thing to do. "See? Is it not wonderful to let go of your inhibitions and indulge?"

[Zenethil]

It was quite unlike anything he had experienced before. He had heard it spoken of, and they called it passion. Some called it lust. He felt words constrained the concept too much. It was like faith. Or honour. Or duty. Indescribable, far beyond meaning that words alone could deliver. It required actions. For faith, restraint. For honour, morality. For duty, selflessness. But for passion? All that mattered was the pleasure. Utter selfish desire of another. And now, unleashed, Zenethil indulged this selfishness.

He felt her nails upon his scalp, the tugging at his hair, mixed with the slight pain of those nails, her lips matching, if not besting his own, he felt himself spiralling down into euphoria. Her voracious mouth, on a more fiendish creature, could have sucked the life from him. For her, it simply pulled him further into inelegant bliss. A final nip at his bottom lip, his breathing rapid, shallow, barely realising how out of breath he was. The look in his eyes almost animalistic, before her words brought a sheepish smile to his face, his eyes widening at the licking of those sumptuous lips, and the heaving of her chest from her deep breathing.

On the contrary Myrna. You would be the first. I am... Glad you enjoyed it. Inwardly, he suspected not as much as he had. He had never felt such intent emotion before. It was as terrifying as it was intoxicating. He nodded as she spoke again, sounding completely in control of herself. He thought otherwise, having heard subtle changes between her breathing and vocal utterances. Tenderness did something to her. Though almost delirious with pleasure, some things, namely the things that seemed to please her, did not escape his notice. He nodded once at her, before placing both hands on her hips smiling down at her. And I intend to indulge myself more often.

That was all the warning he gave, before he leaned in once again, his lips brushing oh-so-delicately against hers, as gently as the brushing of moths wings upon bare flesh. One hand gently caressed her waist, the other lingering over her hip, making small circular movements, slow, tender. In a more rational state, he would have said a tactical choice, based on her apparent weakness for gentleness. In his current, near-smitten state, it just felt right.